Prologue I

Regan

Christmas it was, but I saw my daughter pushing the ice ball harder in our garden. She did well and was given the proper shape of the head of her snowman, but she was having a hard time rolling it on the ice to bring it to me- for me to set it on its body.

That was how we would celebrate our vacation, the two of us as a family. Strange, but it was okay. At least, to me. But to her, it wasn't. She never complained about it. And I didn't want to think about what she was missing out on when I was angry with her now. I noticed how the light dimmed in her eyes when she heard her other friends' plans for their weekend with their families.

I was going to pretend as if I didn't see that or listen to her ask them if they would eat cake and dance with their dad and cousins circling the bonfire in their garden. She liked that one thing. I arranged barbeque, too, after decorating with lights, plastic garlands, and our snowman, but it wasn't enough. And again, I couldn't bring her father or uncle to her. They couldn't hate her. They would make her their precious gem, and my daughter would get the family she was craving in her heart, but she wouldn't get that.

So, it was good to stay mad at her. Not because she never questioned me about her family.

But. . .she disappeared from the airport, and I couldn't find her anywhere. That fifteen minutes felt like fifteen years. When I got her, she smiled toothily and showed me my favorite ice cream in her hand she had bought from the airport ice cream parlor!

"Mommy, be careful! You will break our snowman's head, and oh! You forget his nose!" Maddy complained before I could begin by setting a carrot on her snowman's face. I eyed her fluffy figure with that coat I made her wear before allowing her out on our patio.

I was still mad at her, which she got in no time. "Hold its head, will you?" Her eyes widened at me. Before she could say anything, I sat on my knees on the snow and told her sternly, "Don't waste your energy too much now. Igloo is still left, remember?"

She whined but did as I said. "How about we make pizza together, mommy?"

I glanced at her and teased, "Tired, are we?"

"No, mommy. I can still help you with the woods if you want."

She pointed her tiny finger to the dry wood I stored in my garage last night after we returned home from the airport.

"Pass me the pipe, please. Even better, if you spray water here for me,"

She went to get the water pipe. I hit the ice ball and formed two holes in one line to set black buttons on it, the snowman's eyes.

After picking her up from St Petersburg, her military academy, we boarded our flight for Sweden to leave immediately, not wanting to get caught by my elder brother, the most feared Russian Mobster. Entire Russia was in his control. He ruled, and everyone was bound to follow. I knew he was looking for me everywhere, all around the world, and was one step away from calling a war against the Italian Mafioso. Why? Because I was missing for eight years. Now, his niece was parading with her gang under his nose in military uniform in his country, and he had no idea about it. He would never know it because I had made the arrangements already.

And then I thought about what happened in the airport, and I paled instantly.

It might not be a big deal to others, as it happens with every child, but I felt like I would die that moment when I didn't see her where I left her to use the washroom. I told her to wait for me with her fellow friends, who also had to choose a round trip from St Petersburg to Zurich. We didn't get a direct flight to Sweden at that hour, and I thought about going to the counter to talk with the manager later. With our bag in my hand, I ran here and there for her, stunned to find her coming with my favorite ice cream for me!

"Mommy, please. Please talk to me. Please." My daughter pleaded, but I ignored her and focused on my work.

Coming back to our living room with heavy steps, as I made my way to the kitchen with Maddy following behind, I felt a tug on my sweater and looked down to see her looking at me with doe eyes. "Forgive me this time, mommy. I won't do that again."

"I was scared when I didn't see you in your seat." I couldn't suppress my fear anymore. It still gave me chills when I remembered how I looked for her everywhere but didn't find her anywhere in the airport. "Don't you know, mommy has only you in her life?"

Supporting the kitchen aisle, my daughter climbed on a chair and looked at me innocently. "You always reward me, mommy. That year, when I got a low score in world geography and fine art, you still rewarded me with a new pair of blue sneakers and a blue backpack. You won the match, mommy. Shouldn't it be fair if I rewarded you, too, with your favorite Frollz?"

Aww! My heart swelled with affection for her. I felt my eyes tearing up, listening to her. It was just. . .nobody ever rewarded me before or appreciated me for my effort. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I patted her head gently. "Thank you,"

"Mommy!" She looked at me with wide eyes, surprised to see me softening like that.

"I appreciate it, Maddy. But never do this again." I picked her up and took her to the kitchen to feed her warm milk. "Mommy will be more than happy if you hug her and kiss her,"

"Really?" She exclaimed and immediately started kissing all over my face, making it hard for me to see where I was heading. I laughed at her softly when she squeaked, "Oh, I love you, mommy,"

"Not more than I do, My Curveball," I brushed my nose against her before placing her on a stool in my kitchen. "So, Pizza night, it is! What would you like to have with it?"

"Coffee and French fries!" She squealed. "Let me help you with molding the pizza dough. Please make it spicy for me."

I smirked at her. "I know your taste, Maddy. Wash your hands, will you?"

It was a tiring day, but with my little one, it was worth it. Lord, how many months after I saw her! Eight months. No mother could do that with a seven-year-old, but we were anything but ordinary people. Keeping her with me means putting her life in danger. A fear always crept into my chest when she asked me to visit our next-door neighbor's kids. They were all her age, but I couldn't trust them with Maddy. I didn't even know them well. And then I wasn't allowed to stay more than two weeks in one place.

As I placed the pan in the oven, I pushed those through away and looked at Maddy. "Tell me about your academy. Do you like the food there? I have talked with your faculty. They told me good things about you. Even your classmates and seniors you once introduced to me in your class last semester. It's pretty cool to be there with those kids, right?"

"Yeah, they are fun!" She giggled, taking out the meat and veggies from the freezer with her chubby hands. I wondered how steadily my girl walked even after all the hard work I made her do with me outside on the pavement. There was ice everywhere here. Only I knew how I bribed the driver to drop us here, who wanted us to leave immediately. I was tired from my match on the last day and had jet lag today. Not to mention, I had to make the round trip to pick up my daughter from her academy, so the driver had to bear with me. I didn't want my daughter to catch a high fever. Giving the basket to me, Maddy said, "The food is not spicy there, but it is tasty. My friends are good to me. And those who bully me are not that mean, you know. And do you know I come first in sports..."

The more she talked about her school and achievements there, the more I was impressed by her. Her eyes were sparkling with life as she shared more about her academy. With the help of a not-so-corrupt ex-militant, I got to manipulate her age to transfer her into a decent military academy. With her height, health, and high IQ, I didn't need to face trouble because of her admission. It was her dream to be a militant. So. . .I let her do it. But I wouldn't allow her to do it after eighteen, even if she begged me to let her.

It would be three days after we came home; past midnight, a continuous knock on my door woke me up from my sleep.

Maddy was still asleep, which made me breathe out in relief.

I fished out my gun from the drawer and left the room.

Cautiously, I opened the door, and my brain stopped working to see the person standing right before me.

Him.

Maddy's father.

How. . .and where did he find my address?

Frozen, I stood there. I didn't know what to say or do.

I forgot to blink. I forgot to breathe. I forgot to close the door, too.

I shook my head and blinked a couple of times at him. That was too much for me.

I would have pinched myself to wake up from this nightmare, but my hands felt heavy as my legs.

I had to remind myself he was there, on my doorstep, standing in a militant uniform, which couldn't be fake.

My lips glued together, and my heart raced so fast that I felt like I might get a heart attack any time, even though I knew how strong my heart was. No, how did he know I lived here? No, he couldn't be here. I was dreaming. It had to be that.

Before I could blink to shake away this thought and whatever I was seeing, Maddy appeared beside me with her doll, rubbing her right eye with her hand and asking in her groggy tone, "Who is it, mommy?"

Could the situation get any worse than this?

My heart dropped in my stomach when his eyes snapped at her. From the corner of my eyes, I noticed our daughter was watching him with droopy eyes, puffing her chubby cheeks and frowning the same way at her father as he was looking at her.

I feared he might recognize his daughter and take her away from me, though I knew he couldn't figure it out sooner. I was sure this dumb arse wouldn't, no matter how many similarities he found between them.

He looked taller, scarily muscular than the last time when I saw him above me, naked. 

I left him after that night, not wanting to hear him tell me what happened between us was a mistake.

The blood, ashes, and bullet holes were nothing I hadn't seen before on him and in his body. I would have done something for him while pushing back my fear to tend his wounds, but I had to let go. He was never mine to hold back.

Maddy asked him, "Hello, sir. Have we met before?"

Yup, Maddy. You do, every day, in the mirror. 

I told her, but only in my head.

This Christmas will be special, isn't it?