16. Artem
Artem
“How is she?” Max asks as he hears me quietly closing the bedroom door while I step out.
“Not good. And not just because she’s upset,” I say with a sigh as I turn to go down the steps and he follows, walking into the kitchen where Roman waits for us.
“Well, you need to try to talk to her dad right? If you’re sure he knows more then . . . ” Max says and I sigh as I tilt my head and contemplate it.
Call him and what?
Hey so, I know that you lied to everyone and your wife was brutally murdered, and maybe your daughter is in danger, so help pretty please?
No.
I don’t need any other man stepping in, I made a vow to him the day he gave her to me and he made me accept it knowing what I know now.
“Look Artem, you can’t just go into this blind with her. You have to wait and gather more information. I don’t personally think someone in her own family would target her,” Roman says, ever the logical one.
But there is no logic here. This lifestyle we were thrust into defies all fucking moral bounds and possibility.
“Shouldn’t Giselle get to figure out what the truth is before you two march in? I mean, her family owes her an explanation,” Max says.
“Do you think anyone would actually be honest with her? If we go, they might be more incentivized to tell the truth. Caesar admitted to me he wants to keep her in a bubble,” I explain as I pour a drink.
“He said what?”
Her voice cuts through the kitchen like a blade—and I almost choke on my first sip.
“What? Vodka got your tongue or something?” she asks as she stalks closer and yanks the cup from my hand and downs it with a cringe.
“Fuck that, and fuck Caesar if he said that to you. I’m perfectly fine to march down there and confront him and Leo myself,” she says as she helps herself up to sit on the counter.
“Attagirl,” Maxim chimes in, as he pats her shoulder with a smile. He clears his throat and drops his hand when he sees me narrowing my eyes at him.
“Yeah, you aren’t going anywhere yourself anymore until we figure out if you’re in danger, or did you already forget that?” I ask as I move closer and offer her a bottle of her own.
“Then come. I don’t give a fuck. I’m going either way. Someone has to answer to this shit.” She takes the bottle, downing some of the flavored rum. “Wow, this isn’t bad,” she says as she tilts it to the side and reads the label.
I definitely won’t mention I bought that so she’d stop complaining about the selection.
“Well I’d sure like to go. I’d like to see what happens,” Maxim says as he shares the bottle with her.
“I don’t think so,” I say as I snatch it from him. “If it’s what you want solnishko, I’ll take you. But not tonight.”
“Why? I’m ready to go right now.”
“Because I don’t think you need alcohol in your system for this.”
“Actually, I think I do.” She hops down from the counter, taking a breath. “I don’t think I’m ever gonna work up more nerve than this so let’s get it over with.”
“Fine. But you,” I say as I point at Maxim, “are staying here.”
I follow after Giselle as she storms toward the front door, seeming ready for a war already.
“Are you sure you can do this?” I ask her as we walk outside toward my car.
“Seriously? Don’t tell me you think I can’t handle it. What the fuck do I need to do to prove to everyone that I’m not some incapable little girl!”
I can’t help the rumble of laughter that escapes me at her outburst. I grasp the top of her head with my hand, holding it in place as I adjust her so she looks at me.
“I’m asking because you were a wreck yesterday. That was tough news.”
I can see her crumpled face soften more, as she crosses her arms, realizing that I wasn’t insulting her.
“I’m fine. I got it out of my system, and now I’m just pissed. Caesar has a lot of explaining to do and I won’t fucking leave until I’ve heard it all.”
“Then I’ll make sure you get your answers.”
She looks at me for a moment before she huffs, breaking the slight intimacy of the moment and turning to let herself into the car.
When we arrive at her old home, I can see her face go dull.
I know she wants to act tough, but deep down she’s struggling with the idea that she may not be able to trust anyone in her family.
I think the reality that she really may only be able to trust me and mine is something she isn’t ready to grapple with.
Caesar greets her with a smile and open arms, but she puts her hand out.
“When did you plan to tell me that mom was killed by Uncle Robert?”
Caesar looks at me, as if I’m going to save him. As if I’m going to help him lay it down sweetly.
“Don’t look at him, look at me. In the fucking eyes, look at me and tell me why you would keep something that big from me?” she says as she stares down into his soul.
“Okay, I get it. I knew you might find out one day but—”
“But? But what? But you didn’t think it was important to tell me about MY own fucking mother’s death? Say it how it is Caesar! Don’t fucking sugarcoat it and charm the situation like I’m one of those whores who you can manipulate into thinking you’re prince charming!”
“Okay, okay, Gigi calm down—”
“Did you seriously just tell me to—” I wrap my arm over her and muffle her with my hand. I look at Caesar, my expression serious.
“I don’t want to get involved in this sibling shit you have going on, but if I have to be the one to step in, I will. When my wife asks you a question, you answer it. I told you once before, I don’t give a fuck if you are her brother, you will give her respect.”
She was trying as she might to wrestle my hand off her mouth as I spoke, but I only release her after I’m done.
Caesar sighs, and we follow him deeper into the home to the foyer. He asks if she wants to sit, but she only stands there with her arms crossed over her chest.
“This wasn’t my secret to tell in the first place, Gigi. Dad made me swear not to tell you. He told me you didn’t need to know how it happened.”
“And you agree?”
His silence is her answer, and she dramatically swings her arm down.
“Why? How can you agree? Since when have you ever considered me incapable of handling difficult fucking information?”
“You’re my little sister. All I wanted to do was protect you from it. Telling you would have changed nothing, Mom is still dead— it just would’ve been harder for you.”
“How would you know what’s harder for me?
Do you want to know what was actually harder for me?
Thinking all these last twelve years that this was all my fault.
That if I had just not been a fucking brat, I would’ve went with her, and the timing would be different or—whatever stupid fucking butterfly effect caused the accident wouldn’t have happened. ”
Caesar’s face contorts to guilt. He goes to reach for her, but his eyes find mine and his arm goes back down.
“I didn’t know you felt that way, Gigi. You never told me you were holding onto that.”
“Well, you didn’t ask. No one did, actually.
No one ever asked me if I was okay with how my mom died, no one considered how fucked up it would have made me.
You think it was easier to think she died in a car crash, wondering why?
How? Was she crying and distracted because I changed my mind when she was so excited for me to go for weeks that she didn’t see the man barreling down the road at her? ”
“You are not fucked up, Gigi. We all have problems. No one blamed themselves more than Dad did.”
“Good. He should fucking blame himself! How could he let that happen to her? Don’t tell me Uncle Robert just randomly decided to kill her on an impulse?”
“No . . . ” Caesar says trailing off, like he isn’t willing to say it.
“I haven’t heard a single explanation or answer,” I remind him ominously as I look at him, my patience wearing thin.
No wonder Giselle is so reactive. How can you be around people who treat you like a bomb they’re trying to keep inactive? Who treat you like you don’t deserve to know things because it’s easier for them?
“Fine. You want the truth? Mom and Uncle Robert were having an affair for years and Dad knew but he tried to ignore it to keep us united. Uncle Robert couldn’t handle sharing her with Dad anymore and . . . he lost it. He went with her to the show and killed her when she refused to get a divorce.”
I can see her gears turning. And they’re turning the same direction mine are.
“Why, Caesar? Why was he so adamant about the divorce that he’d kill her? Why not end it?”
Caesar shakes his head at her question, his head down like he can’t look her in the eye.
I see her eyes welling up. “You’re not saying it all,” she pleads softly.
His eyes flick to mine, and I already know what he isn’t saying. I put my hand on her shoulder, which only makes her lose her composure, throwing herself into me as she cries into my chest, realizing the same.
“Is it both of you then? Or only her?” I ask, as I hold her against me.
“No, it’s both of us. And he knows.”
I shake my head, sighing as I look down at her.
“He can’t have children of his own. That was why he didn’t argue when it started. For him, it was harmless, even though it bothered him, he needed to pass down his title as the oldest brother or lose it. He wanted no one else to know we were illegitimate.”
She’s let most of it out, slightly separating from my chest as she wipes her cheek with her forearm. I take the handkerchief from my pocket and wipe her eye down to her mouth, trying to help because I know she hates crying in front of people.
Caesar continues, “at some point, dad realized that they were in love. They had been secretly in love since before the wedding, and it was already too late. He let it go on because by then Gigi and I were young, and he loved us so much, he didn’t want our lives to blow up in a scandal.”
“That, and the legitimacy of him as the Head. If they knew then, your uncle would have been given his rightful place. Men who can’t pass down the title don’t get to keep it,” I point out.
I know all too well the standards of our world. It can be archaic, but it’s order. Without order, all these dangerous chess pieces would be impossible to compel. Though, the game is always at the highest tension.
Caesar shakes his head. “My father isn’t evil. He might be good at lying, but he does love us. He loves you a lot, Gigi.”
“I’m . . . not sure what to say. Are you saying Leo is . . . ”
“Our half-brother? Yes, he is. I’ve known that for a long time. He told me that when we were in middle school. I didn’t really believe him . . . not until Uncle Robert killed Mom five years later.”
I don’t really listen as they continue, lost in my own thoughts.
Is it right, though? I’m pretty sure that . . .
“Earth to Artem,” she says waving a hand in my face. “Why are you all zoned out? Because I honestly don’t think I can handle much more shock in one night.”
“It’s probably nothing, I think I must be remembering something wrong.”
“What is it?” Caesar asks.
“I thought that Roman said the autopsy reported long-range shots to the back of her head and back. If your uncle was with her when she died, he couldn’t have done that.”
“Well, maybe Roman is wrong? We have to ask,” she says, hopeful that Roman is wrong. Not because she wants it to have been her uncle, but that she needs clarity. She needs closure. She needs her mother’s death to be solved and over or she can’t be at peace yet.
“But if your brother is right, then . . . could Uncle Robert really not have killed her? Why would he not plead his case?” Caesar asks out loud.
“I have to go see him,” she says, turning to me.
“What? Giselle, that man—”
“No, Artem. He isn’t just . . . that man!
He’s my biological father and we have an inkling of a doubt that he killed my mother!
If my own dad won’t tell me anything, maybe he will.
I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t hear him out .
. . I need to know what happened to her that night.
And . . . I need to talk to him about the affair.
If he didn’t kill her then maybe . . . ”
“Gigi, you need to let this be. Dad forbade us from speaking to Uncle Robert, and he seriously might have killed mom. And just because there is an inkling of a chance, there’s also an inkling of a chance he had someone kill her so he didn’t have to.”
She shakes her head. “No, this is all wrong, Caesar. He loved mom. You really think he’d do that?”
She looks excited, like all of her life is finally falling into place. Her hope that she can fix her fucked-up family . . . it breaks my heart. Because I know that I’ll be the one to pick up the pieces if everyone disappoints her.
But I’ve found that I’d walk through fucking fire to carry her to safety, even if I told her it would burn and she stubbornly disobeyed.
So don’t worry, lyubimaya.
I will be the one still here when your world comes crashing down.