Tears of Betrayal

Besides my mom and dad’s deteriorating health, I have no other problems.

I’m happy.

Walking into the Starbucks, I head over to the counter.

“Hey, hon,” Jessie, the barista, says, grinning at me.

“Hi.” I glance around at the other patrons. “You’re not as busy as I expected.”

“You just missed the rush. The usual?” she asks.

“Please.” I smile at her before I look at the selection of food on display. “Let me have a chocolate chip cookie as well.” I take the right amount of cash from my wallet and hand it to her.

“Your order is coming right up.” While Jessie prepares my beverage, she asks, “How’s work?”

“Good,” I reply. “I got to do a bridal party’s makeup this week which was awesome.”

“Oh, great. That must’ve been fun.”

“It was.” Mostly I’m glad they didn’t complain about the fee I charged. I’ve just increased my prices and was worried it would make it more challenging to get work.

Jessie hands me my latte and cookie. “We should hang out sometime.”

“Sure, I’ll give you a call,” I reply. I take my order and head to the first open table I see. Sitting down, I enjoy my beverage while nibbling on the cookie. I go over the list of things I had to do, and I only have one stop left before I can go to the nursing home.

I check my social media accounts and emails as I swallow down the last sip of my latte. Just as I get up, a man enters Starbucks.

Holy mother.

I can’t stop myself from staring at him as he heads to the counter. Tilting my head, I take a moment to admire him from behind because he’s nothing short of perfect. Movie star good looks with a muscled body that’s… just perfect.

Now that’s what I call tall, dark, and handsome. Sigh.

I take a deep breath and grant myself one last look before I shrug my bag onto my back and head outside.

I’ll definitely be picturing him as my book boyfriend in the romance I’m currently reading.

Climbing onto my scooter, I take care of the last errand and drive toward the nursing home. I park in my usual spot and leave the helmet with my scooter before going inside.

When I see Ashley, a smile instantly forms on my face. She’s been fantastic with taking care of my mom.

“How is she today?” I ask.

Ashley shakes her head. “Not too good. She’s stuck in the past and determined to get ready for a date with Sergei.”

Nodding, I reach out a hand and give Ashley’s arm a squeeze. “Take a break while I visit with her.”

“Thanks, sweetie. Good luck!”

As I make my way to my mom’s room, I brace myself because it’s still hard when she doesn’t recognize me.

I stop in the doorway, and my eyes find her where she’s sitting in front of her dressing table, pulling a brush through her blonde hair. My mom has always been a beautiful woman.

She glances over her shoulder and then frowns at me. “Can I help you?”

I force a smile to my lips, doing my best to ignore the bite of sadness. “I heard you have a date and wanted to help you with your makeup.”

“Really?” she asks, her mouth curving up at the sides. “That’s nice of you to offer.”

Stepping inside the room, I go stand next to her. “So, who’s the lucky man?” I ask for what must be the thousandth time over the past couple of years.

A smitten look softens Mom’s features. “He’s in Seattle for business. A handsome Russian.”

“Yeah? How did you meet?” I ask as I help Mom turn on the chair, so she’s facing me.

“We were on the ferry at the same time and just started talking,” she grins dreamily.

Arranging the makeup supplies I leave in her room, I begin with dabbing primer onto her skin.

My parents had an affair while my dad was here on a business trip. It only lasted a month before he had to return home. Mom never got over Dad, and he couldn’t leave his wife because their marriage was an alliance of sorts. I’m well aware my father is a criminal – the head of the Bratva, to be exact – but I have nothing to do with that world. I’ve overheard some of the conversations Dad’s had whenever he visited me. The names of the men I heard him talking to stuck in my memory, though. Mostly Russian. The Aulov, Nicollaj, and Petrov families are all part of the Bratva. Alexei Koslov and Demitri Vetrov work closely with my father. I once heard Dad mention they’re the best killers in the world.

The memory alone sends a shiver down my spine.

But they all belong to a life I know nothing about. To me, Dad’s just my dad. Since his heart problems got worse, he hasn’t been able to travel, and we now call each other once a month.