Chapter 43
Grandfather’s old office may look different after Zadorov redecorated, but the same ghosts haunt it as when I was a child. The walls are a different color, but they suffocate me as if no time has passed. The only difference now is that I’m sitting behind the desk instead of, well…
I feel his presence before he even makes a noise. “Come in, moya sila,” I call, still looking down at the cluster of paperwork spread out in front of me.
He does as commanded, plopping down in the chair across from me and kicking his feet up on the desk.
“Is it bad?”
While I’ve been locked in Zadorov’s office for the past twenty-four hours, doing my best to sort out the mess he’s gotten the once-powerful Taranov Bratva into, Misha has been dealing with the more tragic aftermath of our takeover.
“It’s not as bad as it could’ve been. Less than twenty—”
“And their families?”
“All taken care of with enough money for this life and the next.”
“Good. How’s Thatcher?”
Misha chuckles and grins for the first time since yesterday. “He’s milking the shit out of all of this. He’s got every old nurse in the place babying him. You’re going to have your hands full with that one. I’ll tell you that right now.”
The mention of Thatcher brings a stabbing pain in my chest that I can’t seem to fight. There’s so much I need to tell him, and I’m not sure he’ll stick around when he finds out.
“What about you? Have you been able to sort anything out yet?” Misha asks, bringing me back to the moment.
Rubbing my temples, I finally look up. “No, and I don’t think I’m going to anytime soon.
This takeover was more than any of us expected, and it’s going to take months of effort from Ivan, our cousins, and me to get our outfit back on track.
Can you imagine what my father would think of me now?
Not only am I running the largest branch in the States, but I’m heading up a massive cleanup in the Motherland.
I’m sure he’s rolling over in his grave at the thought of his daughter taking on more than he ever did. ”
Misha scratches his neck, then slides a folder to me. “That’s actually what I came in here for. You see, Ivan’s hacker guy has been working on gathering all the digital intel for him and when he came across these files, well, look for yourself.”
I never know what to expect with Misha, but I would have never imagined this.
It’s page after page of conversations between Father and Zadorov going back and forth about my place as the leader of the Thunder Bay branch, spanning years.
I’m trying to make sense of it all, but the more I read, the more hazy everything becomes.
“What…what is this?”
“Read it—”
“I can’t!” I hiss as my eyes begin to water.
Misha smiles lazily, any ounce of teasing gone as he softens his voice.
“He always wanted you to take his place. It was Zadorov fighting it all along. He started years ago, trying to get your father to agree to a marriage between you and Oleg, to no avail. After years of Igor turning him down, he pulled out the big guns. First with Teddy. I’m not sure how he found out about your brother, but even that didn’t shake your father. ”
I flip through the papers and do my best to focus on the conversations about my brother. God, Father really basically told Zakhar to fuck right off.
“Tell the board I have a son. I couldn’t care less. My daughter has more balls than you and your pathetic son combined. If Mila wasn’t the best man for the job, I wouldn’t be leaving her my legacy.”
“God, did he even know about Teddy before then?” I ask under my breath.
“Unclear, but it didn’t sway his decision either way. It wasn’t until, well. Flip to the back.”
I do as he asks, only to find the same pictures Ivan and I received as blackmail last week.
“He knew?” I whisper.
“He knew…”
Silence fills the room as I read through the final messages in the folio, and Zadorov’s final threat.
“She marries Oleg, or these get sent to every member of the Taranov board.”
I never told Father about what happened to me in Russia. He seemed to respect and cherish me, but I assumed that admiration would only go so far.
“Under no circumstances will Mila ever marry your son. Teddy will be my heir. And with Mila no longer in charge, nobody will give a damn about those pictures. All you will do if you ever release them is bring a war upon our outfits, one you will undoubtedly lose. Thanks to my daughter’s genius, our branch has and will continue to outperform yours in every respect.
The only reason you aren’t already dead is because it would set off a war between our families and cause the death of too many Russian men.
But if you ever threaten the ones I love again, I will not be so generous. Do I make myself clear?”
“The ones he loves?”
“I would say he loved you very much, moya tsaritsa.”
Tears are falling freely down my face at this point, and Misha can’t help his tears, either. I allow myself a moment to let things sink in, to feel…Until a familiar knock sounds from outside the office.
“Come in, Thatcher,” I call out as I straighten up in my chair and wipe my eyes.
My sunshine boy strolls in, brightening the entire room with his smile, stopping only when he sees the redness from Misha’s and my tears. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay? Are you alright?”
Misha stands and pats Thatcher on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“What’s wrong?” he asks, still somehow brightening the room, even with concern on his face.
“Um, why don’t you sit down. I think you and I need to discuss some things before we take this…thing, between us any further.”
“This thing being love?” He does as I ask and slowly sits in the chair Misha was just in. And if this conversation is anything like the last, we are in for an emotional ride.
“Yes.” I chuckle. “This thing being love. I do love you. Truly, I do. But this isn’t a gentle life I live, and well…love is hardly ever enough but certainly rarely in the position I’m in.”
Thatcher’s brow creases in confusion as he stares into my eyes. Into my soul, more like. “I don’t care about your job. I think it’s badass—”
“This isn’t a job, Thatcher, it’s my life!
You may not care now, but you will. I’m not like Ivan or Sasha, who met the love of their life and found a way out of this life.
There isn’t an out for me, and even if there were, I wouldn’t take it.
This is my first love. I’m not saying I don’t love you, solnyshko, because I do…
so, so much. But you will always have to deal with the demands this life makes on me.
The mental energy alone is hard, but the time I’ll have to spend away.
Even living together would feel long distance.
Is that really the type of relationship you want to have for the rest of your life?
I mean, I’m not trying to rush into marriage or anything, but you don’t exactly get to just walk away from the Bratva with the information you would have as someone so close to me.
And not to mention the danger of it all.
You would be the first place my enemy would go to get to me. ”
“I don’t care about any of that. I thought I made myself perfectly clear when I interrupted your Bratva wedding!”
“Yeah, that was dumb. You can’t do things like that anymore. You could’ve gotten us both killed! See, it’s things like that—”
“Yes, yes, I know it was dumb, and I swear I’ll never do anything like that again, but I couldn’t lose you. I refuse to lose you. If my life is the price for your love, so be it, because I swear to God, it’s not a life worth living without you.”
Our heavy breath is the only sound in the office as we get lost in each other’s gaze. I want to say okay. I want to move on and make peace with the fact that two other living people know what happened to me all those years ago and be done with it, but I know I can’t.
“It’s not just that, is it? There’s something else…”
“I…I can’t have children.”
Thatcher pauses, and his already soft eyes never leave mine.
“Is that…is that something that you wanted? Because from my standpoint, Mila, I can tell you that you’re more than enough for me.
We can be the most fun aunt and uncle to Teddy’s kids, or if you want to be a parent, we can adopt.
But for me, I’m fine without children of my own. I just want you.”
“No, I’m at peace with it now, and I love my life without kids. It’s why I can’t have them…”
My good boy sits and listens to every word as I tell him about what happened to me all those years ago. As I tell him why I left Russia. Something I’ve never done. Ivan found out through photos. Misha was there when it all happened. But I’ve never actually spoken the words.
I didn’t move to Thunder Bay until I was a teenager.
My father thought he was doing me a favor by not bringing me over.
He was growing Thunder Bay’s outfit at the time and thought it was safer for me back in Russia, so I spent my childhood living in my grandfather’s house.
I was raised to be a particularly special kind of killer.
One as deadly as any soldier, who could charm men to their demise as well.
My physical training took place with the other men but the, um…
intimate training was behind closed doors.
At the hands of, well…Grandfather. I didn’t know any better of course, this was all I ever knew.
Until I got pregnant. I was late to get my period because of the training, and when I did get it, I was too scared to tell anyone.
But eventually, I couldn’t hide my growing stomach anymore.
Grandfather was beyond angry and had me sent away to get rid of the baby immediately.
I didn’t know it at the time, but he ordered they give me a hysterectomy as well, so that no other accidents would ever happen.
The pain was unreal. I never wanted to be a mother, necessarily, but to have my child ripped out of me against my consent was devastating.
I was curled up in the fetal position, crying on the floor, when Misha found me.
He’s the only person I knew I could trust beyond a shadow of a doubt.
So I told him everything. He was appalled.
He held me as we both cried together, then helped me get my revenge.
We waited until the time was right and got rid of Grandfather in the way he personally trained me to, with seduction and poison.
After that, we hightailed it to my father in Thunder Bay and never looked back…
Thatcher stands and rounds the desk, squatting in front of me so that we’re eye level. He rarely ever touches me without my permission, but he kisses me without hesitation, and I allow it. In fact, I welcome it. For the first time in my life, I feel safe as a man holds me romantically.
“Mila Taranova, my love for you is more undeniable than the sunrise. My heart has belonged to you from the moment I met you, and there is nothing you could do or say to ever undo that. I am yours. And I don’t care about what you’ve done in the past or what you’ll do in the future, as long as you’re mine.
You are the bravest, strongest, most incredible person I’ve ever known, my love.
Let me take care of you as you take over the world.
Let me sit and watch as you rule, knowing that I bring you peace and joy in your darkest days. Let me be that man.”
A million thoughts race through my mind. But all of the reasons I’ve never allowed someone close to me before pale in comparison to the overwhelming need to let this man love me.
“Okay, solnyshko.”
“What does solnyshko mean, anyway?
“It means little sun or sunshine. And you are, Thatcher. You are my light, my everything, and I would be honored to be yours. In this life and the next.”