Taken

Chapter Sixteen #3

I want to shout. I want to put a stop to this madness, but I can’t even try.

My heart races faster, my breathing shallow as I try steadying myself. But the more I look at them, the more it feels like the walls are closing in all around me, leaving me trapped in a world I don’t understand.

My fingers curl into fists by my sides, and I can’t stop the sinking feeling in my stomach.

I can’t escape the gaze of the men who are now a part of this.

As the arguing reaches a new level of loudness, I hear Isaak shouting, and his words are full of a rawness I would never have expected to hear from him.

“I have lost one child, and almost lost another! I found Chiara alive and well, and I did what I would want somebody to do for my child, Francesco! What more do you want from me?!”

The tension in the room shifts, the atmosphere suddenly becoming thick with something darker, and something deeper.

Everybody turns to look at Isaak, but I can only focus on the twins; on Nikolai, and on Mikhail.

Slowly, I watch the way their expressions change; twin mirrors of pure shock and confusion.

For a solid second, nobody moves.

It’s like the entire world stops.

My heart beats so loudly that it drowns out everything else around me.

I can’t help but wonder what else.

What else is left to be revealed this evening?

They don’t speak. Not yet.

Instead, they look from their father to me, and for a moment, I’m frozen under the weight of their stares.

Again.

The tension rises even more.

They take steps closer to Isaak, and in that moment, I feel everything changing once more.

Nikolai’s voice cuts through the tension, so sharp and direct.

“What do you mean by that?”

His words are laced with disbelief.

Mikhail doesn’t hesitate either, his question following suit, his voice low.

“What are you talking about, Otets?”

I watch the way both pairs of eyes flicker from me to Isaak as they desperately try to piece together the pieces of this puzzle which has been left unfinished for far too long.

My own eyes shift to Papa, taking notice of the way his entire body has grown tense now. It’s almost as if he’s become frozen in time, transported to the past which these men are all desperately holding onto.

As Isaak sighs heavily, he runs a hand through his hair. His dark eyes are wary, filled with something like regret, and I can see just how badly he’s trying to keep himself composed, but there’s also something fragile about the way he’s doing it too.

“The woman you once knew as your mother…” Isaak begins saying slowly, his voice tight as though the words are difficult to get out. His gaze moves to me briefly, then back to his sons. “She had lost everything. Lost her mind. Lost herself.”

His words are heavy with grief.

I don’t even know how to process this. In my time being here with Nikolai and Mikhail, I don’t recall them ever saying anything about their mother, so I wonder if this even means anything to them.

Glancing over at them both, I see their expressions hardening, almost as if they’re both holding a deep level of understanding at their father’s words, but I don’t know what it means.

“Otets…” Nikolai growls, inching a step closer. “Why are you telling us this now?”

I step closer too, feeling Dario’s fingers tighten around me once again, as I watch Papa’s face turn ashen.

“Alyona was the one who ordered it.” Isaak’s dark eyes meet mine. “My wife is the reason why your mother was murdered, Chiara.”

My lips part, a whimper escaping.

Mama.

Tears immediately rise to my eyes, my gaze moving back to Nikolai and Mikhail.

Did they know about this?

They don’t let anything show.

Instead, Mikhail’s voice slices through the air.

“A lost child?” He repeats, referring to what was said earlier on, his words laced with confusion. “What’s that about?”

Isaak looks over at the Don, who gives him a small nod.

With a sigh, Isaak’s eyes return to his sons, and he exhales slowly, as if he’s gathering the strength to say something that he’s clearly been hiding for far too long now.

“I had a daughter.” He says, his voice low, and his eyes momentarily clouded with something I can’t quite read. “She is your little sister.” He pauses, and his next few words completely knock the air out of my lungs. “Her mother was an Italian woman.”

I freeze.

My mind immediately thinks of a possibility; a reason why he is revealing this now.

My stomach sinks.

I don’t want it to be true.

Forcing my eyes away from him, I look up at Dario.

Could it be that…?

My brother shakes his head, only holding on to me even tighter.

I swallow hard, releasing a breath as I focus on calming my racing heart, listening as Isaak continues.

“In a mix up of identities, Serena was murdered under the direct order of Alyona, rather than my daughter’s mother, like Alyona had hoped for.

” I watch Isaak’s chest rise and fall, the way that he says the words so slowly and carefully.

“Your mother is the reason why Chiara’s mother was murdered, my sons. ”

Nikolai and Mikhail freeze, their bodies growing tense in a way I haven’t ever seen before.

For a moment, neither one of them moves, and I can practically hear the sound of their thoughts racing, trying to understand what their father has just revealed.

The silence surrounding us all feels suffocating.

Nikolai’s brows furrow, his eyes narrowing as he processes the information.

His mother…my mother…

My throat feels tight as I hold onto my brother even tighter, desperately trying to seek comfort in him.

“Has our sister passed?”

Mikhail asks, his voice hoarse with something I can’t quite place, a tinge of fear, perhaps.

Isaak shakes his head slowly, his expression darkening.

“No. My daughter lives.” His voice dips even lower as he continues, his eyes flickering towards Papa for just a moment before they settle back on Nikolai and Mikhail. “But just barely. She has no idea who she is. She has no idea about any of us.”

His words echo around in my head, but I can’t seem to make much sense of them.

Their mother is responsible for my mother’s death.

I can’t even wrap my head around it.

They have a little sister with Italian blood running through her veins.

I stare at Isaak, then back to the twins, watching their reactions to all of this with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Their gazes shift back to mine, so intense and heavy, and the realisation of this all settles deep in my stomach.

They’re looking at me differently now, and I'm not sure if I can bear it.

Though they don’t speak, their eyes…

They’re searching mine, trying to understand how this secret, this hidden part of their lives, is now tangled up in mine.

My body trembles, and the room seems to grow smaller with every passing second. The air grows thick with all these secrets now being revealed.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t look away from them.

Isaak’s voice cuts through the haze.

“She has no idea about us.”

He repeats, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself, but I have no idea why.

He’s saying it to the twins, but I feel like his words are meant for the rest of us too.

Nikolai and Mikhail exchange a look, their eyes heavy with unspoken questions. Neither one moves first, they just stare at me, their expressions unreadable.

I watch as their confusion slowly shifts to something else; something darker, something dangerous.

Isaak captures our attention again.

“My daughter no longer lives in America. She was forced to move, because this all landed back on her. Only a child, only six years of age, and her entire life changed. And because Alyona was so angry about the fact that both my daughter, and my daughter’s mother still lived…

” His chest heaves as we all wait for him to reveal the rest of this story.

“She tried to kill my son. She tried to ruin me.” I feel my heart drop into my stomach.

“My son was only thirteen at the time—Mikhail was still just a boy—when my wife tried to end his life. She drugged him, and left his unconscious body in the water to drown. She said it was a way to get back at me. A horrific way to take revenge. Like I said, she was losing her mind, and losing herself to insanity. She wanted me to lose it all.”

Everybody is silent.

Barely anybody even breathes.

I press a hand to my mouth, whimpering, his name barely a whisper as it falls from my lips.

“Mikhail…”

I notice the way his shoulders slump, and the way his face crumbles.

Why would Isaak reveal this…in front of all these men…

I look around the room, realising that the only people who look surprised at hearing this are the twins themselves, Dario, and myself.

And then the question I don’t want to hear, the question that’s been floating around in my mind ever since Isaak first spoke, is asked aloud.

“What does this have to do with her?” Nikolai’s voice is tighter, his gaze unnerving as it flicks to me, searching me, demanding answers.

“Our mother was responsible for her mother’s death, and our sister was forced to move away from the country.

My brother was almost murdered because of all of this, so I ask you this again, Otets.

What. Does. This. Have. To. Do. With. Her? ”

A sharp ache appears in my chest, squeezing me tight.

I don’t know if I even want to hear the answer, because somehow, this is all tangled up around me, whether I like it or not.

A murder.

My mother’s.

A little sister.

Theirs.

A horrific trauma.

Mikhail’s.

And somehow, I’m part of this twisted history.

Nikolai continues staring at me, the weight of it almost unbearable, and I can't take it any longer.

I need to look away, but I can’t.

I’m frozen in place.

“My daughter’s mother…my Stella...she was killed by her own brother when the truth about my fatherhood to my daughter was revealed.

” Isaak’s gaze pierces into mine. “I didn’t receive a body, but rather pieces of it, personally hand-delivered to me by Francesco.

” My breathing stutters as my heart stops beating.

I shrug out of my brother’s hold, stepping away from him, unable to bear his comforting touch any longer.

“This happened only days after Mikhail was almost killed. I barely had the strength to mourn her. I was too busy making sure my son would live.” Isaak’s eyes never leave mine, not even once.

“My Stella...murdered…another innocent life lost because of your father’s anger. ”

I wrap my arms around myself, my throat so sore now, my heart so heavy in my chest.

Isaak’s voice is sharp, his voice as cold as ice as he continues.

“Your father is the reason why my daughter is no longer with us.” He spits, the words thick with anger and resentment. He turns to look at Papa, and I see his expression turn ten times more furious. “You took my daughter from us, and you helped murder her mother too!”

Papa’s growl rumbles from deep in his chest.

Every word that leaves his mouth drips with pure venom.

“Your wife is responsible for this all! None of this would have happened if she did not order the first hit!”

He snarls out, his fists clenched at his sides, his body shaking with rage.

Both men stand face-to-face, the room vibrating with their anger. Neither one of them moves yet, but the air crackles with the promise of violence. It’s as if everything in this room can shatter at any second now.

Each beat of my heart reminds me that I’m trapped in the middle of something I still don’t fully understand.

Alessandro, who has been silent for a while now, releases a deep sigh. I watch him looking up at the ceiling, a look of exhaustion crossing his face, as though he’s praying for this all to end. It’s as if the chaos around us is all too much for him now, and he’s just waiting for it to pass.

When he speaks, I hear the words, but they don’t make much sense.

I can’t understand anything.

My legs feel like they’re about to give out beneath me.

All the anger, and the hatred in this room, has become too thick, making it difficult to breathe.

Whatever Alessandro is saying makes Isaak’s face contort, his eyes flashing with hot rage. His body stiffens, and his jaw tightens. For a second, I’m sure he’s about to throw a punch.

The air is electric, charged with all the years of hurt, anger, and revenge.

But before anything can happen, everything around me turns black.

I don’t feel myself falling.

I don’t feel anything at all.

The last thing I hear is the awful shouting around me, but it’s fading fast.

And then, nothing.