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I turn to look at them, covered in their comrade’s blood.
"Let this be a warning for you. No second chances."
Three of the men pale, and the fourth vomits everywhere. Hmm, good. I turn and walk out to shower and pack, ready for our flight tomorrow morning. It's time to get my girl back.
I see a lot of groveling in my future.
thirteen
Sofia
I finished a whole week at the hospital in the ER in preparation for my rotation in pediatrics, and it was amazing—tiring but amazing. Despite my struggles, I have finally made it, and I hope when my girl is older, she will see how hard her mamma worked for us to have a better life. I'd just finished an evening shift last night. April stayed with Mila for me before she went back to her place after giving my cheek a kiss and mumbling about needing her beauty sleep because she has a date tomorrow. Poor fool, she will eat him up and spit him out, but he must know what he's getting into; they've known each other for years.
She must have seen the look on my face because she just growled and stated, "I'm going to last longer with this one this time! I've waited years for him to pull his head out of his ass and ask me out. All these stupid men, I've wasted time waiting for him!"
I laughed my ass off. She's a serial dater while waiting for the one she actually wanted to man up, while the rest were just boring stand-ins where she gave up by the second date, knowing she only wanted him. I locked up after she left with her middle finger above her head, and then I showered, checked on my girl, and fell straight asleep.
Now, I currently have a two-year-old poking my nose, trying to wake me up. I smile, then try to get her finger with my mouth, causing her to have a fit of giggles—music to my ears every morning.
"Morning principessa." I call her “princess” in Italian, then give her a kiss on the nose, causing her to giggle some more. "Mamma am golodnyy," she states in Russian, telling me she’s hungry, but calling me mamma in Italian. She deviates between the three languages I've been teaching her, which means sometimes I'm mamma in Russian. We just go with the flow. I smile at my smart little ballerina.
"Okay, baby, mamma is just going to use the bathroom, then we can get breakfast; we have that birthday party today at Amy's, then we can go to the park for a little while this afternoon. Mamma is off work for three whole days. Do you need the potty, baby?" She squeals in delight, making me smile. She jumps off the bed without answering me as usual, and goes to the bathroom to use her potty without asking for help. At the same time, she starts singing “Row, Row Your Boat” in Russian, then switching it to Italian, then English. I shake my head with a smile.
Once she's done, she washes her hands, and then kisses me.
"Go play in your room. Mamma will be there to get you ready in a few minutes, okay?"
She nods, then goes into her room. I watch her go before I head into the bathroom, clean up after Mila, and then do my morning routine.
I've tried to make sure Mila has both of her heritage languages; it's not her fault her dad and family are the way they are. She deserves to know who she is. That's why her middle name is Maria, after her babushka. Still, it's currently her last name until she decides if she wants to be a Volkov or Russo, or if Damian finds us beforehand and signs the documents I've made. But that's most likely not going to happen; it's been three years, and he hasn't found us yet.
When she is older, she will want to know all about her family, which is why I made a scrapbook full of pictures and memories that I brought with me for her. If she wants to contact her family, that'll be her choice. Still, for now, I'm protecting her from them and that life. If they find us, I already have a plan in place with my lawyer.
Sometimes, it can be hard. Do I miss them all? Yes, every day. I see the Volkov family in Mila, but I know this is what's best. I was blind; I thought Damian loved me. I gave him everything, but it wasn't enough. I thought he was my best friend, my lover, and that I was everything to him, like he was everything to me. But it was all a lie.
Most likely Mila will want contact with him when she's older. In that case, I already have a lawyer involved with certain paperwork for Damian to sign before he can see her. I need to ensure she is safe and that what happened to me will never happen to her. I want her to fall in love naturally, not for her to be forced into it. As for my family, my mother was an abusive and jealous alcoholic because of what my father put her through. She loved with her whole heart, and he broke her after someone decided to lie to them both about infidelities. Neither of them knows the truth, of course, but I do because Noah uncovered it for me. We're just trying to figure out who began the cascade of lies, but I have suspicions. Instead of confronting each other like a normal couple, both my parents strayed to get back at each other, but my father took it too far, and one of his mistresses claimed she was pregnant, causing my mother to forget the love she had for me, turning her into a vile woman. Eventually, she stopped the verbal and physical abuse, and sleeping with other men, giving up on her marriage and herself altogether. She'd just get intoxicated, then proceeded to pass out, leaving her bodyguard, Mattia, to beat me and sexually assault me when no one was around.
Now, I'm not normally a violent person, but I've thought of a way or two of how I'd kill her bodyguard and make him suffer. As for my mother, I had hoped she'd finally get the help she needed, but she didn't. One day, I will tell my father everything she put me through because of him and his adulterous ways, to make him see what he put his family through by believing someone else's word regarding an affair that didn't happen. The information that Noah found for me showed my mother slept with someone after my 8th birthday because someone cornered her about my father cheating; knowing she wouldn't confront my father because she had always been a little insecure. She believed the lies because my father's love was one of her biggest weaknesses. He was already pulling away from her, making her think the person was right.
Noah got all the information for me two years ago when things just didn't add up. Someone was trying to break up my family. I think it was Zia Emilia, wanting more money from my father but thinking my mother was trying to get him to pull back even though it was the other way round. I thought a lot about her behavior toward me on my wedding day, it's the only thing that makes sense. Still, I have no proof; Noah's been trying to find it since I left, and we keep in contact once a month.
I sigh.
Both my parents fell for the lies, leaving me in the middle of their war. My father showed too much affection to me, while my mother showed none and got jealous instead. I should have said something years ago, but I was just a girl craving her mother's love again, which is really pathetic. And my father, well, I was a daddy's girl; I was his piccolo principessa. But he betrayed me and used me like I was some bargaining chip. It was all an act for him, and then he left me with a woman who was turning into an alcoholic and an abuser because of her insecurities. So, I'm done with them until they sort themselves out.
Noah is watching them, but they're still just as bad, except for my mother. She just drinks a lot now, while my father looks to be moving his mistress, one he doesn’t even like, into one of his hotels. It's more of a “fuck you” to my mamma. If my nonna were here, she'd sort them out, but unfortunately, she’s dead. My only regret was losing her diamond heirloom hair clip, and I will forever feel guilty about it.
I shake out of my thoughts; they're too painful.
I finish my routine and dress in jean shorts, my cowgirl boots, and a white, V-neck t-shirt, and put my hair in a high ponytail. I don't bother with make-up, I never do these days, and I go to Mila's room. I smile when I see she's having a little tea party with her Barbie, two teddies, and her picture frame of her daddy and her uncles, dyadya Alexandr and dyadya Sergi.
My smile turns sad.
She doesn't understand why her daddy's not here, but she doesn't get upset. She just nods when I say he's busy with work.
I go to her and say, "Okay, Principessa, let's get you dressed, sweetheart, then we can get breakfast." She smiles and nods at me, and I help her change into her jean shorts because she wants to look like her mamma—her words, not mine. Then, I put on her Disney Belle t-shirt, before I put her dark hair in a braided pigtail, then kiss her nose before carrying her into the kitchen, where I sit her in her chair.
I ask, "What would you like this morning, bambina?"
