MariaI slowly open the box and take out the test. My hands tremble as I read the instructions. I follow them carefully, making sure to get enough urine on the strip. As I stare at the tiny stick, I feel like I'm holding my entire future in my hand. A sudden wave of nausea washes over me, and I wonder if it's just nerves or a sign that I really am pregnant. When it passes, I set the test on the counter and wait for the results.I pace back and forth in front of the sink, trying to calm my doubting thoughts. The minutes drag by, and I'm scared to look at the test. I don't want to know. I don't want this to be happening. As I wait, my mind plays out scenarios. None of them are good. Am I really pregnant? And if so, what will Mikhail do when he finds out? Fear squeezes my heart like a vise.If he's willing to use me for bait, what will he do to my child?Finally, I can't take not knowing anymore. I take a deep breath and look at the test, and my heart free falls into my stomach.Two line
Maria"I need to talk to my father.""That's not a good idea," Lara says, her brow furrowing in concern.I grip her hands. "I need to know the truth from him," I reply. "Mikhail tells me his real name is Zakhar Budanov. There's a photograph in his desk. I ... I deserve to know!"Larissa's face pales as she pulls her hands out of my grip. Her hands clutch the sheets as if anchoring her to the moment."Please, Lara," I plead. "I need to hear it from him."Larissa nods slowly and releases the bedsheets from her grasp. "Yes," she says quietly, her gaze distant. "You do."I stare at her, perplexed, but her face is unreadable. She knows too much but doesn't want me to figure it out. I take a deep breath, wondering if I should push her, but I decide against it. Whatever Larissa knows, it will remain a secret, at least for now.Larissa takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "You should come home with me," she says firmly. Standing up, her posture is regal and defiant. "And you must be ca
MariaI sleep through the night, maybe for the first time in weeks since Mikhail last touched me. It feels normal here, and for a brief moment, I pretend I'm home again as I listen to nature outside my window—birds chirping back and forth and leaf-blowers in the distance.The morning light barely illuminates the sheer curtains pulled across the Juliette balcony, and I get up to look outside. From the window, I see the driveway stretching beneath the window toward the street. Though the room is on the second floor, I could easily drop down onto the lawn. Without thinking about it, I try the glass door, but it's bolted shut.I tug at it again but quickly stop when I see one of Rurik's men walking down the driveway toward the main road.I hurry back to bed, and that's when I see a box on the bedside table. I stare at it, slowly comprehending what must be inside. Grabbing it, I pull at the matte black cardboard, tearing it open by the seams. Inside is a new phone.Larissa kept her promise
MariaI don't tell Larissa what I said to my father, and there is a silent understanding between us. She can't tell Mikhail what she doesn't know.The next day is spent in a limbo between fear and boredom. Bratva men frequently show up at the estate, and I watch them with trepidation from a window in the family room as they patrol the large yard. All are armed, and a few men pace with huge dogs, pulling at the leashes. They walk closely around the fence and occasionally disappear into a detached garage.When one gestures at the window, I step away.Larissa sits comfortably in a huge easy chair with the television streaming some reality TV show she's barely watching. None of this seems to bother her. She glances at me and smiles. I smile back and wonder how long I will be here.Rurik strides quickly into the room, ignoring me like I'm a wilting plant in the corner.It's not my business, and I shouldn't care, but I wonder what he and Mikhail have been saying about me. Rurik walks over t
Maria"Yeah. Who is this?" Mercy's no-shit, tough-girl accent instantly reassures me. She sounds like she's been up for hours, and I can hear bar sounds in the background—glass clinking, people talking, and sports announcer giving a play-by-play.My voice trembles slightly. "Mercy? I need to talk to you."Her voice is instantly loaded with worry. "Maria? My God, what's going on? What's wrong?" Her words are rapid-fire. "Where are you? Are you okay? Are you still with Ivanov? Talk to me!""I'm safe." My voice is firm. "And you can help by answering some questions.""Okay, give me a sec." Wherever Mercy is, she moves to a quieter room, and I hear a door slam in the background. "All right, what do you want to know?"I pause, gathering my nerves into words. "Did you know about my dad, Mercy? The truth.""I don't know everything." She sighs dramatically and then speaks. "But I do know that Michael Rostova is not as dull as he pretends to be."I don't speak Dad's real name. I don't want to
MariaLarissa stares at me, and her voice suddenly chills. "Who's that on the phone?"Wide-eyed, I stare at Larissa, terrified at what she'll think.No sense lying now. "It's my cousin Mercy. She lives in New York.""Maria! Maria!" Mercy shouts again, and it's louder this time as I pick up the phone. "Put me on speaker, goddamn it!"I do as I'm told and put the phone down on top of the covers. Larissa stares at it as if it's something unfamiliar. I wonder what she'll do to me. If she really meant all the kind words that she said. Or was it a trick? I sit motionless, embarrassed by what I tried to pull off.I had Larissa's consent to call my father and no one else.Larissa leans toward the phone. "Hello?" she asks."You Larissa?" Mercy replies."I am." Larissa scowls at me. "Who is this?""Maria's cousin, and I met you before," Mercy replies smoothly. "Look, the kid knows nothing. She's clueless, and it's not an act."Larissa picks up the phone and switches off the speaker. "When did w
MikhailI'm ready to leave for a meeting when I hear her door shut upstairs. From the corner of my eye, I watch and wait for Maria to come down to breakfast, but instead, Dominika descends the stairs. I tighten my tie, hiding my disappointment with a tolerant scowl. Dominika's orders have been to care for Maria and watch her like a hawk, so I assume she is doing her job."Where is she?" I ask. "Sulking in bed?"Dominka straightens her back and tries to compose herself quickly. She quickly steps toward the hallway and makes sure she's nowhere near me.I finish with my tie and glare at her. "Dominika," I demand. "I asked you a question.""Who?" Her voice falters."Maria," I say.Dominika stares out the window behind me, not daring to look me in the eyes. "She's staying at your sister's house."I step forward, looming over her. "You were supposed to be watching her!" I snarl.Dominika doesn't flinch. Before fleeing her homeland, she saw far more evil than even I could muster. She stares
MikhailA guard pushes the front door open, and I march into Larissa's home. I'm relieved to see the added security, but the atmosphere is contentious as men stand at attention as I pass. I don't need to look far for Larissa. She sits in her favorite chair, ignoring my invasion of her happy home. She shuts off the television, and her guarded gaze meets mine. I know without a doubt that she's aware of my intentions.She knows everything. She knows too much."Good morning, Lara." I approach her and lean down to kiss her cheek. She doesn't move a muscle except her eyes, which follow my every move. She looks ready for battle, but we are no longer children fighting over a toy. "You look well."Her eyes narrow, and she sees straight through my charm."So, you've decided to visit me," she says. "I wonder why?""I spoke to Rurik." I sit down across from her and lean back. I rest my elbows on the armrests and place my feet on the ottoman. "Where is she?"Larissa crosses her arms over her chest
MariaThe scent of blooming lilacs fills the air as I stand on the terrace at the Barinov Estate. Their home is the perfect backdrop for me and Mikhail to exchange our vows. Spring has arrived, and with it, a sense of rebirth. The rose garden is in bloom with lavender and pink roses that scent the misty air as I hurry across the lawn and enter an opulent ballroom.The chandeliers cast circles of light on the polished floor, and the sheer drapes billow over the casement windows. I smile at the murals of angels painted on the ceiling above my head and soak in the joy that being here gives me. The staff starts to hurry in to set the room up for our nuptials, and maybe I should go upstairs to change.Dad stands in the main hall dressed in a tux. The tiredness has left his expression, and he looks younger now that we have no secrets. I hurry over to him and hug him tight. He holds me, but his smile is tinged with sadness. "Maria, I spoke to Mikhail. I'll be announcing my retirement from th
MikhailTHREE MONTHS LATER"Are you sure you want to do this?" I ask Maria. Though it had nothing to do with me, I feel responsible. It was my Bratva that murdered Maria's mother. Men that my father trusted."Yes," she replies, staring straight ahead. "I have to have closure."We've traveled to the area where Aria was killed behind a safe house. Zakhar leads the way, searching for the spot. The tall maple trees surround the isolated house with boarded-up windows. Behind it, a faint path winds its way deeper into the woods, and overgrown bushes make it a challenge not to get lost. Eventually, the path leads to a small clearing containing a rotting tree stump.There's an eerie silence hanging over the area, as if nature was holding its breath. I take a deep breath in and stare at the tangled branches high over our heads. Maria stands beside me, her hand trembling in mine."We separated here." Zakhar stops beside the unassuming tree stump. It doesn't look like it should be anyone's final
MariaThe delivery room is a battleground, and I'm the one fighting for a life. Sweat beads on my forehead as another contraction rips through me. My fingers grip Mikhail's hand tightly, seeking comfort in the strength of his grip. I feel his concern like an electric current crackling between us as he says words of encouragement, urging me on."Push, Maria. You're almost there," he says. His voice is strong and steady, even though worry is etched into his handsome features. Those intense eyes have seen so much violence and bloodshed, and now they're fixed on me. Mikhail has been by my side every step of the way, our relationship forged in danger. And now, we're about to create something beautiful out of it all."Maria, you're doing great," Dr. Galano chimes in, her tone professional but warm. "One more big push and you'll meet your daughter."My body tenses with the effort, and I think back to how we got here. Nights spent tangled in each other's arms, trying to forget the chaos of th
MikhailThe room is silent as Zakhar reveals the pain he has felt for decades while hiding himself and Maria away. He sits down heavily, and I place a hand on his shoulder, understanding his desperation for his daughter and accepting the honor of his blessing.Sorokin slams the gavel down again and says, "I'm glad to know that you will willingly accept your fate, Zakhar Sergeyevich." He looks at Maria and me, his lip set in a scowl. But then Sorokin glances away and hesitates, almost as if he regrets what he has to say. "The oath has been broken, and our original judgment stands ..."Maria stiffens and reaches for my hand. "No," she whispers, "I can't lose everything I love. I won't." She looks at me, her eyes wide and desperate for reassurance. "Mikhail ... no."Behind us the doors burst open, and Zhanna strides in, flanked by several women of the Bratva. Paige Barinov, Natasha Chuikov, Sonia Karamazov, and my own sister, Larissa. The men fall silent as the women make their way towar
MikhailWe agreed to meet on neutral territory, and the Poconos was mentioned briefly, but the Barinov Estate was chosen instead.The drive through the woods reminds me too much of driving to Sorokin's castle, but I'm relieved when two large gates open, revealing a red brick mansion. Yes, the sprawling structure is formidable, but the house is trimmed in holiday lights, and the remnants of a snowman guard the front door.The mansion has a lightness to it, which brings hope. Bright light floods the hall, bouquets decorate every table I pass, and the white marble floors are cleaned to a high gloss. Views of the gardens covered in snow are visible from the window, and a few children play outside, bundled up against the cold.I'm led by a guard to the furthest wing of the house, where I find a set of double doors. I feel hopeful until I'm shown into the dining room. My heart sinks as if it were tied to a boulder and thrown into the ocean. Contrary to my expectation of a bright and open sp
MariaThe dark road seems familiar to me, but I'm not sure why I have this feeling of déjà vu. "Where are we going?" I ask my father as his truck navigates through traffic past the dirty piles of snow."Back to the inn," replies Dad. "We've been requested to come to a meeting." Dad's mouth is tight as he concentrates on the route.My heart skips a beat, but I keep my warring emotions inside."You don't look happy about it," I reply softly."Sorokin knows how Gunsyn died," he replies. "Mikhail and I are oath breakers. Sorokin has every right to kill us both. But we're getting a hearing instead.""That's good, isn't it?" I ask, confused."Yes and no." Dad sighs loudly as he slows down for the exit. "Maria, you have to accept that things might not end in our favor. If something happens to me, you're to go live with your uncle Vito. The feud is over, so you'll both be safe.""Nothing bad will happen." I lower my voice and grip the seat to steady my nerves. "You and Mikhail did what you sa
MariaCHRISTMAS NIGHTIt's only eight thirty on Christmas night, and all day I haven't been in the mood for presents or holiday cheer. I finally give up and go upstairs to sit by my bedroom window. I don't have the energy or desire to do more than watch the snowflakes fall gently to the ground below. I glance over at the closed door and feel a little guilty for not being downstairs. But I can't imagine Dad is too eager to keep celebrating either. The last time I saw him he was sitting in the kitchen listening to a true crime podcast.I take a look around at the hot pink walls, the neatly arranged art books, and the plush stuffed animals on my twin bed.Nothing's changed in my pretty cage, except for me.Soon, I'll have a little girl of my own. I stare at the latest sonogram pictures again and that's the only thing that makes me smile.The world outside is cold and unforgiving, but it's warm and safe in here. In Holtsville, my father will keep me safely tucked away from what's out ther
MikhailThe penthouse is a mausoleum of her memories, taunting me wherever I look. I stare at the spiral staircase, waiting for Maria to come down. I wait, hoping I'm wrong, but I know she'll never appear. I wander aimlessly up the stairs into her old bedroom, and my gaze falls on the Kuzma Fedorov painting I gave her. I remember that day and how proud Maria was to tell me it was hanging upside down.I, the art expert, was being schooled by a woman who had only seen art in books.But Maria spotted the hidden image of the face in the brushstrokes so clearly. The same way she spotted the light imprints in my father's journals. The same way that she still spotted a glimpse of the man I could have been.I close my eyes, dreaming that when I open them, she'll still be next to me. But I turn and the fantasy gives way to harsh reality.Many of the paintings I owned were destroyed during the attack. And I haven't stepped into my office since she left. I haven't touched a pencil, a pen, or a b
MariaCHRISTMAS EVEA few cards sit on the mantel among a twisty wire of bright lights. The Christmas tree stands in one corner, its branches covered in twinkling lights and ornaments from the attic. For the first time in a long while, the living room furniture is draped in cozy red-and-green throws, and a plush white rug adds to the holiday style. The scent of cinnamon and cloves fills the air downstairs, but none of this is enough to put me in the mood.The only thing that makes me smile is a sonogram of my baby propped up on the mantelpiece.Dad sits in the kitchen wrapping gifts. The sound of paper folding and the cut and the hiss of tape being pulled off the spool is calming, like white noise. I stare at the colorful presents crowded under the tree with big loopy bows.I want to care that Christmas is tomorrow, but I just don't.It's hard to care when I can only think about Mikhail."You don't mind that they're coming over?" Dad enters the room, picking at a roll of tape, trying