Chapter 52 Adeline
Adeline's POV
The ride back to the penthouse is quiet, with both of us deep in our thoughts. On my part, I deliberated on what exactly to tell him and what not. I don't know what he was thinking, but he kept a reassuring hand on my arm.
Before we go in, we order Thai food, but we both stare at the food in front of us with no appetite.
Instead, Percy pours us two glasses of a heavy, dark red and hands me a glass and sits on the leather sofa opposite me. He gives me space, but he lets me know he has my full attention by the way his body fully faces mine without crowding me. Thus is the version of him that his clients get. The one that wants to fix everything.
"Tell me," he says simply.
I take a long sip of the wine. The taste makes me heady, but it grounds me. The painting opposite me is one that makes me calm, so I stare at it as I start.
"You know the basics," I start, my voice sounding small in the quiet room. "You know I grew up with a single mother. You know Melissa is complicated, and she changes boyfriends like she changes shoes, looking for someone to save her. " I pause, swirling the wine in the glass. "But I never told you about my father."
"You mentioned him briefly during the Mason saga."
"Yes."
"His full name is Ilya Kozlov," I say and watch for his reaction, and sure enough, his brows
furrow slightly.
"Kozlov?" he repeats. "That’s... Russian. Like Volkov and Akilov."
"He wasn't a businessman," I say with a dry, humorless laugh. "He wasn't a mogul. My father was a thug. He was the leader of a small-time gang in the town where I was born, before we moved and changed our names to this one we have now."
"Oh."
"He ran protection rackets and dealt in stolen cars and distributed drugs. He was a big fish in the small, dirty pond that was our town." I take a breath, forcing myself to continue. "He was violent, as expected of a man like him, but I didn't know all this until later. He was not always physical, though. Sometimes, it was verbal, and my mother took the brunt of that. I remember nights where she would wear sunglasses to breakfast because her eyes were swollen shut. I thought she was being a drama queen, but I know better now."
I shudder as the memories hit me vividly again.
"He was different with me. He didn't hit me, and because he wanted a son, someone that could inherit his little criminal empire but didn't get it. He decided to turn his daughter into a son."
"The racing," Percy realizes softly.
"He put me on a bike when I was six," I confirm. "A little dirt bike. He taught me to ride before I could barely read. He taught me to be fast and aggressive. He used to scream at me if I braked for corners. "Brakes are for cowards, Adeline!" That’s what he would yell at a six-year-old girl.
I look up at Percy, tears stinging my eyes. "Riding wasn't a way to rebel for me, it was my way of conforming. It was survival because if I raced and won, he left my mother alone, and if he was happy, he left Mom alone."
"He used you."
"He trained me," I corrected him. "But then, I grew up and started seeing him for what he was. For the monster, he was posing as a father."
"So sorry, baby."
"When I was Sixteen, we had a neighbor, Mr. Henderson. A sweet old man who used to complain about Ilya’s loud music. I mean, who played such loud music in a house with a growing child? One night, Ilya snapped after another complaint, he went to Mr. Henderson's store at night and beat him with a tire iron. The whole thing happened right in front of my eyes when I tailed him that night, so I was a witness to everything. I heard and saw every little horrible thing he did to that man."
"Adeline," Percy whispers, standing up to reach for me.
"It was later that I knew that I had it all muddied up."
"What are you talking about?"
"Mr. Henderson owed him money, according to the testimony I gave in court. He must not have noticed I was behind him because he was really mad when he saw me hiding behind that bush. He made me promise not to tell, and I did, but I gave him up anyway. In court, I testified against him. My words sent him to prison."
Percy’s eyes widen. "You put him away."
"I was the star witness," I nod. "My testimony sealed his sentence, and he got twenty years with the possibility of parole after ten years."
"Fuck, baby!"
"The day the judge read the sentence, Ilya didn't scream, he just looked at me with this hatred that I know means he would kill me if he could." I shiver and shake away the memory.
"We changed our names and moved. Melissa tried to scrub him from our lives, but Ilya holds grudges, Percy. He loves holding grudges."
"Ten years," Percy calculates. "He would be eligible..."
"A month ago," I whisper. "I checked the federal release registry this morning. Ilya was released on parole."
"You think he’s the one sending the messages," Percy states.
"It fits. It's exactly what he would do and say. Seeing as he wasn't welcome back in the streets, he's broke, so the extortion makes sense. He knows you have money, so..."
"That's why he was confident enough to ask for a million dollars."
"And there's one more thing."
"What?"
"Mason," I say. "Tiny said Mason visited a family friend in prison before he was transferred upstate. I checked the logs myself today. Mason visited my father thrice before his release. That made it very easy for him to locate me."
Percy takes the paper and scans it quickly. "They're working together on this to take you down." He murmurs.
"I'm their mutual enemy."
"I’m sorry," I whisper, tears finally spilling over. "I brought this to your door. My father... he’s a monster, Percy. And now he’s hunting us and hunting my mother."
Percy closes the distance between us in two strides to grab my face in his hands, so I have no choice but to look at him.
"Stop," he commands. "Do not apologize for standing up to a monster. You are the bravest person I have ever met."
"But..."
"No buts," he says fiercely. "He thinks he’s hunting you? He thinks he can scare you with texts and creepy vans? He must not know about me. He threatens you, meaning he's threatening me, and I don't take that shit lightly."
He lets go of me to pull out his phone.
"Tiny," he barks into the receiver. "Ilya Kozlov was just released. I want a location, and his associates and I want to know exactly what he said to Mason Bernard. Don't call me back until you have something. We’re going to end this, Adeline."
"What do we do?" I ask.
"We find him, and we make him wish he had stayed in that cell."