Page 139 of Betrayal and Vows

"You're wrong." Lena's fingers find mine, intertwining our hands. "You have her heart. I can see it in those pictures."

“I wish I remembered more. I can’t remember her voice. I know she sang, but I can’t hear her anymore.”

I remember fragments. Pieces that don't quite fit together.

"There was a park," I say slowly. I feel like I’m trying to grab onto something floating in the dark. "Someone took me there. After."

Lena's grip on my hand tightens. "After your mother died?"

"I think so." The memory is hazy, more feeling than image. "A woman with dark hair. She bought me ice cream even though it was cold outside. I remember crying because I wanted my mama, and she held me."

“Dark hair?”

I turn to look at her. “I think… I don’t know.”

“What, Anton?”

“I think it might have been Elena.”

“Really?”

"Maybe." I close my eyes, trying to grasp the wisps of memory before they dissolve. "She smelled like cigarettes. She spoke to me in Russian, but her accent was different from my mother's."

"What did she say?"

"I don't know. I was so young." Frustration builds in my chest. "There are other pieces. A blue car. And I felt danger. I can’t explain how, but I knew it was dangerous."

“My mother was there?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. That doesn’t make sense. And I don’t know where I was. But I remember I had bandages.”

“From the attack.”

I nod. “And that was the last time I ever saw the woman.”

Was it Elena?

It all feels so foggy.

Some of it I’m not sure truly happened. I was so young.

There was so much trauma and then I was thrust into a life that made sure I never remembered who I was or where I came from.

"Tell me everything," she says. "From the beginning. No lies. No protection. No soft edges. I want the whole truth."

I know what she’s asking for.

How did I go from a broken, motherless little boy to a cold assassin working for the father that wanted me dead.

“Like I said, I don’t have many memories, but over the years I’ve done some research. I know now she didn’t want to marry Vadim. That he was chosen for her. Or maybe he just decided she was his. That’s the way he operates. Like they chose you.”

Lena nods. “It’s the way of things.”

The way of the Bratva. Of the powerful families all desperate for more power and control. Fuck the costs.

Children are bred to gain more power.

Lena was supposed to be a princess.