“You blinded Andrei.” I giggle at the memory.
Mikhail sighs deeply and sits beside me. “I know I did. And you haven’t stopped laughing since. I’m guessing you’re not all right.”
“I’m laughing. How can I not be all right?”
“Sofiya, talk to me.” He reaches for my hand, but I pull away and stand up, a sudden, intense anger filling me.
“How can I talk to you when you never talk to me?”
He frowns. “I talk to you all the time.”
“No. I mean, personally. You’re asking me to tell you how I feel, but you never share anything remotely personal about yourself. I had to find out about Natasha through Mary, and I had to find out about your son through Boris, of all people. How do you think that makes me feel?”
“You’re no longer laughing.”
“No, I’m pissed.”
Mikhail tilts his head, looking me over. It’s like he’s scrutinizing me, and I hate it. “You’re not acting like my good girl right now.”
“I’m tired of being your good girl and getting nothing in return.”
“I provide for you. I take care of you. What more can you want?”
“You!” I shout as my anger and fear and shock bubble over. Mikhail’s eyes widen. “I want to know you, Mikhail. You haven’t told me a thing about your past. I don’t even know your son’s name.”
His head bows as he breathes deeply until he finally looks back at me. “Alexei. My son’s name was Alexei.”
I expected a fight, not for Mikhail to tell me that.
“Oh,” I say, the anger deflating from me. “That’s a nice name.”
“I picked it out. It means ‘protector of men.’ I thought it would make him strong so that when he grew up, he could take after me. Except …”
“Except he didn’t get the chance to grow up,” I finish for him.
Mikhail nods once. “He was five.”
I gasp and slowly sit back down beside him. “That’s … I can’t imagine losing a child. Let alone one so young.”
“He was murdered.”
My entire body freezes. When Mikhail told me his son had died, I assumed it was from something like a car crash. Common occurrences that cause unfair deaths. Not murder. Murder never crossed my mind.
“He was only five years old and was murdered.”
“Oh, Mikhail.” I place my hand on his arm, and he doesn’t pull away. In fact, he leans in a little closer.
“I found him when I came back home. Covered in blood. Stab—” He cuts off suddenly. I’ve never seen this expression on his face before—it’s pure anguish. “He was stabbed to death.”
“By who?”
He makes a sound between a laugh and a scoff. “By a man named Ivan Petrov. He was my father’s rival and became mine after I took over. He’s dead now. Died of a heart attack. I didn’t even get to have my revenge.”
“You told me before your wife also died. Did she …”
“No. She was attacked by Ivan and his men, but she survived. She had to watch our son get killed while they were …” He roughly shakes his head. “While they raped her.”
I’m scared to even speak. Mikhail is revealing so much. It’s no wonder he didn’t want to talk about it before. If this had happened to me, I don’t even think I’d be able to speak at all.
“No,” he continues. “Natasha died later.” He clears his throat. “From suicide. Alexei’s death was too much for her to handle.”
“God, Mikhail. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I know, but … I’m sorry for pushing you to tell me.”
“No. I should have told you. You’re my wife. You have the right to know me. I just can’t say more. It’s too much.”
“I understand.” I rub my hand up and down his arm. I’m not even sure he can feel it. His eyes are far away right now. “When I lost my parents, I never thought I’d survive it.”
“I didn’t love my parents, so I wasn’t upset when they died.”
I flinch slightly. “Oh.”
He glances at me with a strangely open expression. “I’m assuming you loved your parents.”
“I did. Well … I loved my mother. My father …” I shrug. “He always made Vik and me fight for his attention. It made Vik resent me, and I can’t forgive our father for that. But my mother … She meant everything to me. I still miss her.”
