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My girl and her father talk in hushed tones. I’m impressed by Ana’s proficiency with her second language, but sometimes she’s frustrated by her limited vocabulary and reverts to English. I make a concerted effort to tune them out. If she wants me to be privy to any part of this conversation, she’ll tell me later.
After a while, she stands and walks my way. Her face is tear stained and more gorgeous than ever. Full of compassion and love, she’s a guide for us all.
I might have the guns and the intel at my beck and call. Her father might have the power of a global conglomerate in the palm of his hand. But it is Anastasia Petrov who controls what happens next. I am in awe of her.
“We’re ready to be brought downstairs, Bryce. Will you bring us, please?”
I exhale and shake my head. I’ve restrained myself from hurting Nathaniel Turner, but he’s been taped up and bound through the night, only released for the bathroom and one meal. He won’t be a pleasant sight.
“Look at me, my love,” she says soothingly yet firmly. “I’m not asking. It’s time for Nathaniel to meet his father.”
“We’ll bring him up.”
Someone like Ana should never have to lower herself—figuratively and literally—to the bowels of this house. A safehouse is a misnomer. Not everyone brought here receives protection.
I call two agents to accompany me downstairs. Because my amazing Ana has influenced my behavior, I give her kidnapper a minute to clean up in the bathroom. He still looks like shit, but without duct tape or handcuffs, which is more mercy than he deserves.
When Nathaniel emerges from the basement door, Nikolay stands shakily. Nathaniel, on the other hand, regains his prideful stance. One man is old and weak, the other stubborn and spiteful.
After all this trouble to be in front of his father, is Nathaniel refusing to talk?
Ana matches her half brother’s lifted chin and says, “Nathaniel Turner, this is Nikolay Petrov. I believe you have been wanting to meet him in person. This is your chance. I suggest you not waste it.”
She pulls out a seat across the table from where her father is standing.
Goddamn, she’s spectacular.
Nathaniel walks over with a guard on each side. I’m not taking any chances while he’s near Ana. He complies easily enough, sitting down and suppressing a wince while he pulls the chair closer.
Nikolay sits across from him. Two men, whose tall stature and striking eyes are nearly identical, look at each other for the first and perhaps last time. The chasm of time and resentment between them is far greater than a formidable woman and a shared table could ever bridge.
“I am sorry to hear that your mother has passed away,” Nikolay begins. “She was an amazing woman.”
“Don’t talk about her. You don’t deserve to talk about her.”
“You are right. I do not deserve to breach her memory. Just as you had no right to involve my innocent daughter. To abduct Anastasia. To threaten her.” Somehow, the weakened man finds the gumption to raise his voice and reveal his anger.
“I never would have hurt her. Maybe if you didn’t block out all of my efforts to reach you, it wouldn’t have come to this.”
Nikolay’s fire dampens and his head hangs in regret. “Yes, I take the blame for things going this far.”
“My mother never moved on after you, do you know that?” Nathaniel speaks through gritted teeth. His expression is so vividly pained, it’s hard to look at.
“You had your wife and kids, but all she had was me, a child she never planned for and had to support on her own. You cast her away and she never betrayed her promise to keep you a secret. It was only on her deathbed, drugged with morphine while she lost her battle with cervical cancer, did she breathe your name.”
Nathaniel’s eyes are a mix of hurt and anger. Water and fire. He roughly wipes his wet face with the back of his soiled shirtsleeve.
Nikolay nods, since words seem completely futile at this point. The man traveled from the other side of the world to take the verbal hits. I almost respect him for it.
“How could you let an unwed mother raise your son while you pretended we didn’t exist? She worked multiple jobs to make sure I had clothes. Food. Her life changed course because of you, while yours continued like she was nothing. She wasn’t nothing, you goddamn asshole!”
Nikolay makes a weird sound at the back of his throat. Almost as if there’s constriction to his airways. His personal physician moves to approach. The older man holds up his hand, halting the doctor in place.
Addressing Nathaniel, he speaks in a clear, determined voice. “There is no excuse. Your mother deserved better than to be abandoned. You had rights to expect from me. I will regret my sins till the day I die. My life has indeed continued, and no one will be foolish enough to think I am saint. But I beg you, Nathaniel. Do not harm your siblings. If you give me your word never to threaten or endanger Ana or Sergei, or any of the family they have made for themselves, I give you this word in return. I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for those mistakes.”
Nathaniel swallows with difficulty. “I’m not a monster. Desperate, yes. And I used my money to bribe and spy so I could get to you through Ana. For that,” he says, looking at Ana, “for that I am sorry.”
Ana closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. When she opens them to face her half brother, her expression is full of compassion.
