Page 114

Again.
The tension rises even more.
They take steps closer to Isaak, and in that moment, I feel everything changing once more.
Nikolai’s voice cuts through the tension, so sharp and direct.
“What do you mean by that?”
His words are laced with disbelief.
Mikhail doesn’t hesitate either, his question following suit, his voice low.
“What are you talking about, Otets?”
I watch the way both pairs of eyes flicker from me to Isaak as they desperately try to piece together the pieces of this puzzle which has been left unfinished for far too long.
My own eyes shift to Papa, taking notice of the way his entire body has grown tense now. It’s almost as if he’s become frozen in time, transported to the past which these men are all desperately holding onto.
As Isaak sighs heavily, he runs a hand through his hair. His dark eyes are wary, filled with something like regret, and I can see just how badly he’s trying to keep himself composed, but there’s also something fragile about the way he’s doing it too.
“The woman you once knew as your mother…” Isaak begins saying slowly, his voice tight as though the words aredifficult to get out. His gaze moves to me briefly, then back to his sons. “She had losteverything.Lost her mind. Lost herself.”
His words are heavy with grief.
I don’t even know how to process this. In my time being here with Nikolai and Mikhail, I don’t recall them ever sayinganythingabout their mother, so I wonder if this even means anything to them.
Glancing over at them both, I see their expressions hardening, almost as if they’re both holding a deep level of understanding at their father’s words, but I don’t know what it means.
“Otets…” Nikolai growls, inching a step closer. “Why are you telling us this now?”
I step closer too, feeling Dario’s fingers tighten around me once again, as I watch Papa’s face turn ashen.
“Alyona was the one who ordered it.” Isaak’s dark eyes meet mine. “My wife is the reason why your mother was murdered, Chiara.”
My lips part, a whimper escaping.
Mama.
Tears immediately rise to my eyes, my gaze moving back to Nikolai and Mikhail.
Did they know about this?
They don’t let anything show.
Instead, Mikhail’s voice slices through the air.
“A lost child?” He repeats, referring to what was said earlier on, his words laced with confusion. “What’s that about?”
Isaak looks over at the Don, who gives him a small nod.
With a sigh, Isaak’s eyes return to his sons, and he exhales slowly, as if he’s gathering the strength to say something that he’s clearly been hiding for far too long now.
“I had a daughter.” He says, his voice low, and his eyes momentarily clouded with something I can’t quite read. “She isyour little sister.” He pauses, and his next few words completely knock the air out of my lungs. “Her mother was an Italian woman.”
I freeze.
My mind immediately thinks of a possibility; a reason why he is revealing this now.