With This Secret

“Nothing.”

“Aldie …”

She sighed. “Don’t take this the wrong way but this time, it’s a little bit different.”

“How so?”

“His life is on the line too. I’m not trying to shit on your dad, but he’s not exactly been the model father. He framed it well with all his talk of downing sleeping pills and a bottle of vodka, but at the end of the day, he did sell you off to Bogdan to save his own sorry skin.”

I opened my mouth to answer her.

She showed me her palm and carried on talking, “Even back then, when he came back to stay it was not because he was being loyal and good. Your mom had insurance, so he didn’t have to shell out anything, and … she had the bakery. It might not be much, but he did then and does even now, raid the cash register a couple of times a month, doesn’t he?”

Something hard and painful struck my heart at her words. Of course, she was right, but all my life, I had been denied my father’s love and yearned for it. So, I had simply learned to make excuses for him. I wasn’t a child anymore. I could see the truth as clear as day. My father didn’t love me. He only came to raid my cash register and steal a few chocolate chip cookies from the counter. Like a fool, I would pack them for him to take away. God, I was so stupid. “Perhaps he does know,” I said, my voice sounding flat, my heart filled with grief for the man I’d always loved, but had absolutely no confidence in. “Perhaps he doesn’t care. Perhaps, he is looking only to save himself and is keeping himself hidden until all of this blows over.”

She must have felt bad for me, because she shrugged and her tone was kind as she spoke, “Or perhaps not. Maybe he does love you in his own way. Let’s just focus on ending this situation with Bogdan. We’ll see how things turn out with your dad then. To be honest, I hope he remains hidden. He could just mess it up if he shows up now by giving Bogdan another bargaining chip. I have complete trust in Levan and I know he can solve this. Somehow.”

“I’ve just told the only man that could help me to fuck off,” I cried.

Her head jerked back. “You didn’t say that.”

“Well, not in obvious terms, but …”

She sighed then and put the puppy down. “What’s your issue with Levan? Why don’t you want to let him in? You’re still pissed tha—”

“He’s a criminal, Aldie. Don’t you remember my list?”

“What list?”

“The list of professions I never want to date,” I reminded her.

“Ah, soldiers, pilots, policemen …”

“… And firefighters,” I completed for her.

“Criminal isn’t on there?”

“Serial killers aren’t either, but maybe I should grant them leniency too.”

“Slow down viper … I was just saying.”

I sighed. “I don’t want to fall in love with someone who’ll just die suddenly. Levan already nearly died.”

“But you’re already at least half in love with him, all over again.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I know what happens when you fall in love with the wrong guy. Mom fell in love with my dad, a street thug who promised her the world, and it all went downhill from there.”

“Levan isn’t the same as your dad,” she said quietly.

“No, he isn’t,” I agreed. “He’s the Russian equivalent with a whole lot more power and money which makes him a thousand times more lethal to me. I’ll go to sleep every night wondering if by the time I wake up, my lover and my soulmate will be dead. My dream is a peaceful life.”

There was a ding then and both of our gazes lifted to the oven.

“I’m heating some frozen pizza,” she said smacking her hands together.

“I thought we were having pancakes?”

“You’re having pancakes. I’m having pizza.” She squealed with excitement. “And I also found some really freaking expensive Beluga caviar so I’m making some Caviar Blini too. I plan to sneak those home with me.”

I shook my head at her. “You’re stealing caviar now?”

“Relax. He has so much in his fridge and he told me to help myself to anything I want.” She looked down at me haughtily. “You’re not the only one with a relationship with Master Ivankov.” She reverted to her fake English accent. “If anything, my relationship with him is more defined and slightly older than yours.”

I rolled my eyes at her as she went to the oven to get her pizza.

Biscuit, a greedy little bugger, scurried after her.

She opened the oven door and the delicious yeasty, cheesy smell of pizza wafted over. She pulled it out, put it on the counter, and cut it into slices.

I turned away in thought, a crazy idea stirring in my mind, but it was a scary thought. A very scary thought. A thought that involved rejection. “What if I asked him?” I blurted out.