Chapter 42 FORTY-TWO

Chapter 42 FORTY-TWO


Blood hummed in my ears, deafening me. I couldn’t even think. I couldn’t even move. All I could feel was the tremor in my body, trembling so hard I felt like I was going to have a seizure. Cheryl’s voice continued to call in the background, an endless repeat of Sergei’s name as the phone dropped from my hand with a clatter.

I didn’t know what reaction to give, but I could feel every pulse of the beat behind my ears. My mother was dead. DEAD. And all I could remember was the teary, beet-red face on her last night as the SUV drove off, leaving her standing there. I felt anguish. I felt pain. I felt my heart threatening to pump itself into a mush. And even though I wasn’t trying to get up, I really couldn’t with Morozov’s arm still locked around my waist. So I remained in the bed with him. The tears burning my eyes, my shoulders trembling as the sobs tore through me violently.

I cried because I’d said horrible things to her face the last time. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her brown ones staring at me in front of the altar while I was getting married to Sergei. How I wanted her to speak up, and she hadn’t done that.

My shoulders trembled and I felt snot run down my nostrils.

The news of my mother’s death came with a realization that there was no home to go back to anymore. Home had been her. Home had been her within the four walls of our mansion in Nichols Hills, and now that the only warmth—even if I never liked to admit it—that I’d known was laying cold somewhere, I felt nothing but anguish. My mother’s warm arms thrown around me in a hug yesterday. My mother’s teary face that was slightly more rounded than the last time I’d seen her five years ago. The sadness I could see in the bags beneath her eyes.

My arm covered my mouth and I bawled.

Bawled because I had one chance with her yesterday and I hadn’t made proper use of it. Instead, I’d made her believe she had a daughter who didn’t love her until her very last breath. And now, I couldn’t help but wonder what her last thoughts could have been. Was she thinking about me? Was she thinking about me in that wedding dress and seeing herself again?

Like the day she’d also been forced into marriage to my father?



SERGEI MOROZOV POV

The room was dark and silent when I came to groggily. Too silent for a second too long; I wondered how long I’d slept and where Anya Vescovi could have gone. I’d reached for her on the other side of the bed, and it was just empty and cold, which told me she’d been out of the bed longer than just a few minutes.

My instincts acted immediately. I jolted out of the bed, so sudden my head thumped in response. She wasn’t anywhere around. I got down from the bed swiftly, looking through the house; it was all dark and empty, until I doubled back, my heart racing now. The moment I returned to the room, I heard the shower pouring from the bathroom. I exhaled shakily, but didn’t even wait for the relief to sink in before I approached the bathroom and yanked the door open.

“Hey, I was—”

The words died in my throat. It took one second through the blur in my eyes to see clearly that Anya Vescovi was sitting on the toilet seat, her face teary as she scrolled speedily through my phone. MY PHONE.

My chest tightened with anger. I took one large leap into the room, snatching the device out of her hand. “What the fuck are you doing?”

She shot up, aware now. But instead of looking scared, she looked mad. RAVAGING MAD. “When were you going to tell me?” Her cheeks were red and her eyes were blazing. “WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME?”

“When was I going to tell you what?”

“When were you going to tell me that you killed him? When were you going to tell me you killed h—”

“Who? WHO?”

“When the fuck were you going to tell me you killed my brother?”

I shouldn’t have been moved. I should have scoffed, stepped away, and punished her for having it in her hands. But instead, I stood there frozen, watching the tears roll down her face with this ache in my chest.

“And my mother…?” she sniffled through wet nostrils. “Cheryl called and said my mother…. My mother is dead too…”

The last words were a strangled whisper. She looked like her legs were about to fail. The news was a shock to me—that Diane was dead. But the look on Anya’s face, of pure anguish and agony, was an even greater shock.

“My mother is dead… She’s dead, Sergei… why didn’t you tell me?”

“Anya… I did—I didn’t know….”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME SHE HELPED YOU TO FIND MY FATHER?! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME SHE WAS IN ON ALL OF THIS? THE MARRIAGE? HER HELPING YOU TO FIND MY FATHER? YOU LOOKING FOR MARINO? ALL OF IT. ALL OF IT. SERGEI, WHY? WHY? WHY DID MY MOTHER FUCKING HELP YOU? SHE’S DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU…”

With every word, her lungs wheezed. I could see the exhaustion in her. “Why? Why? Just tell me why? Why didn’t you tell me?”

The edges of the phone dug into my palms. Her screams were only making the ache in my head pitch to an intense point. When she stepped closer and hooked her hands around my shirt, I lost it.

“Why? WHY? Why didn’t you tell me my mother wa—”

“Do you want to know why?”

“Yes… SERGEI, YES!”

I tried to steady the breath in my lungs. “Then I think you should know that five months ago, your mother signed a contract to save your life. YOUR LIFE. A life for your life. Do you not wonder why you aren’t dead? Do you think I kept you alive because I needed you? YOU THINK YOU’RE HERE BECAUSE I LOVE YOU?”

Every sound—whimper, sob—died right then. Anya looked up at me, her eyes blinking with a disoriented look.

“W-what did you say?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Your mother signed a contract with me to spare only your life. ONLY YOURS. You’re alive because of her. You’re here because she loved you enough to put her son's and her husband's lives on the line for you. And honestly, Anya, you make me reconsider signing that contract every single day. Every minute that passes, I rethink my decision and wish I could put the gun to your head now….”

“No… no…” She tried to pull away.

I went after her, cornering her against the toilet. My hand found her chin, gripped it, and tugged her closer. “And if you push me beyond control, I will kill you too, Anya. I swear on your dead mother. You don't want to keep snooping around. Get over it. We have more problems than your dead mother. GET OVER IT!”