AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Obsessions are primal desires on overdrive. Whether they be in the form of wanting to love or wanting to hurt, or in the case of Nathaniel, wanting to know, obsessions grip your entire being without mercy or reason.
“Bryce didn’t kill him because I begged him not to. Nathaniel, h-he’s our, um, he’s our half brother,” I stutter hurriedly. “He’s been wanting to confront Father for the last five years, which is when his mother revealed the truth of his parentage. On her deathbed, Sergei. Can you imagine?”
Sergei is quiet on the other end for a full two minutes. Feels like an hour, but the clock on the wall doesn’t lie.
“Can’t be true. He’s lying to save his ass.”
“He has the same eyes as the Petrov men. Identical. This isn’t the kind of lie that can be hidden forever. I wouldn’t be surprised if Bryce runs the paternity tests as soon as Father lands.”
“They’re meeting at the terminal,” Sergei says. “I can just imagine Bryce making him swab for a DNA test before he’s even out of the jet.”
“Or maybe he’ll simply pull a strand of hair from Father’s head,” I say ridiculously.
He snorts and then clears his throat. “This is no laughing matter, Anastasia.”
“I know.”
“Is Nathaniel Turner in the safehouse with you?”
“At the basement of what has been described as a fort. He is in the modern equivalent of a dungeon.”
“That’s the least he deserves.”
“Sergei, I think he has every right to meet his father. To confront him,” I state cautiously. “How Nathaniel came about it, threatening and taking me, that’s all sorts of wrong. I’m not excusing his behavior. Yet, it’s worth seeing it from his point of view, I think. Isn’t it possible his anger clouded reason?”
“He. Took. You.” Sergei growls each word. “That is not a point of view, Ana. That’s a goddamn crime.”
“There was ample opportunity to harm me, and he didn’t,” I remind him. “I think he should meet with Father.”
“I think I liked you better when you were stubbornly independent. All this reconciliation bullshit is giving me hives.”
“Take an allergy pill.”
“You’re a brat.”
“Ya lyublyu tebya, bratik.” I tell my brother I love him. “Spasibo tebe za to, chto zabotish’sya obo mne.” And that his care for me means the world.
“I love you, moya malenkaya sestryonka.” He assures me, using his Russian endearment for sister. And then adds, “Brat.”
The phone pings and I see a new notification.
Bryce: Heading back from terminal. ETA 45 minutes.
“I’ve got to go. Say hi to Maeve and the boys for me.”
“Tell her yourself.”
Maeve’s voice is more high-pitched than I’ve ever heard. “Ana. Oh, thank god you’re alright. I needed to hear your voice. Your brother kept hogging the phone. How are you?”
“I’m well, Maeve. Thank you. I’m sorry you were stressed about this.”
“Do not apologize, Anastasia Petrov. You have nothing to feel bad about. God, you sound really good. I bet you were so brave.”
I can tell she’s crying. Maeve’s motherly kindness makes me choke on my own surge of affection.
“I didn’t have to be brave. Sergei will fill you in on the details, but the gist of it is, I don’t believe my life was ever in danger.”
My phone pings again.
