Page 29 of Betrayal and Vows (Bratva Vows #2)

“I could have no contact with her. It was too risky. She told me she got sick and couldn’t take care of him. She sold him. It took me a while to find him but I did. I hoped you had forgotten who you were. I was wrong.”

Anton says nothing.

“You came back at sixteen, full of rage. You’d grown too dangerous by then, Anton.”

“You knew who I was?”

“Of course,” she says softly and shrugs. "I promised Irina I would keep you safe. You are a very difficult person to keep out of trouble.”

Now, I’m smiling.

The idea of anyone protecting Anton is comical. Or telling Anton what to do.

“Don’t I fucking know it,” Dmitri scoffs. “This one tempts death. Always has.”

“Does Leonid know?” Anton asks.

“No.” My mother smiles softly. “Men never see what’s right in front of them. You hid in plain sight. Very smart, but very dangerous, Anton.”

“I want to kill Vadim.” Anton’s voice is matter-of-fact. “I will kill him.”

“Does Dad know about the house in Spain?” I ask.

“No. He can never know. One day, I will leave. Maybe he’ll be dead, maybe not. For now, I have to stay.”

"Your husband is going to betray you," Anton says bluntly. "Lenoid has been making deals behind Vadim's back. Moving money, selling information. Vadim knows. He has marked your entire family for death. He was going to do it after the wedding."

My mother's face goes pale, but she doesn't look surprised. "I know."

"You know?" I stare at her. "Mom, if you know Dad is?—"

"I've been moving money too," she interrupts. "For years. Small amounts, different accounts, different countries. I knew this day would come."

Anton leans forward, suddenly interested. "How much?"

"Enough to disappear forever. Enough to start over somewhere safe." She looks between us. "Enough for all of us."

My mother—the woman I thought was trapped, helpless, bound by duty and fear—has been planning her own escape all along.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I whisper.

"Because it was too dangerous for you to know. If you'd known what I was planning..." She shakes her head. "You're a terrible liar, Lena. Always have been."

Despite everything, I laugh. It's true.

"The accounts are in Switzerland," she continues, pulling a small piece of paper from her coat. "Bank information, passwords, everything you need. There's enough to live comfortably for the rest of your lives."

Anton takes the paper, studying it carefully. I watch his face, see the wheels turning.

"You don't have to do this," he tells her quietly. "You could come with us."

My heart swells. He's returning the favor she gave him thirty years ago—a chance at life.

"No," my mother says firmly. "If I disappear now, they'll know I helped you. They'll hunt you forever. But if I stay, if I play the grieving mother whose daughter was murdered by her kidnapper..." She looks at Anton. "They might eventually stop looking."

"Mom—"

"This is the only way, Lena. You know it is."

I do know it. And I hate it.

"Besides, someone needs to be here when your father's house of cards comes tumbling down. I want to watch Vadim tear him apart piece by piece."

The venom in her voice surprises me. My mother has been playing a much longer game than any of us realized.

I can see a million thoughts running through Anton’s eyes. He looks at Dmitri and I swear they just had a whole conversation without uttering a single word.

"No," he says finally, his voice deadly quiet. "I'm not running to Spain like some coward while Vadim and Mikhail are still breathing."

"Anton—" I start, but he cuts me off with a look.

"I'll get you to safety, Lena. I'll make sure you're protected. But then I'm coming back to finish what I started."

My mother shakes her head. "You can't. If you come back?—"

"If I don't come back, they'll never stop hunting us. You know that." His jaw clenches. "This ends with blood. It was always going to end with blood."

The finality in his voice terrifies me. He's already made up his mind. He'll sacrifice his own chance at freedom to ensure mine.

"There's something else," my mother says quietly. "Something you both need to know before you make any decisions."

The way she says it makes my stomach drop. I've learned to fear my mother's revelations. I’m not sure how much more I can handle.

"What now?" Anton asks. I can hear the exhaustion in his voice. How many more secrets can any of us handle?

My mother takes a shaky breath. "Mikhail isn't Vadim's son."

The words hang in the air. Anton goes completely still beside me.

Dmitri curses.

"What did you say?" Anton whispers.

"Natalia was having an affair. Had been for a long time. Irina knew about Natalia. She knew the father of Irina’s baby.”

“She was going to tell Vadim,” I blurt out.

“No, she wasn’t,” Mother said. “She didn’t care. It was nothing to her. She hated Vadim. She didn’t care that his mistress was cheating on him.”

I’m barely listening. "That means..." I can't finish the sentence.

"That means you are Vadim's only living heir," my mother says, looking directly at Anton. "You are the rightful heir to the Orlov empire."

Dmitri whistles low under his breath.

"Holy shit," he mutters. "You're the fucking prince."

Anton laughs, but there's no humor in it. "The prince he tried to murder."

"The prince he feared," my mother corrects. "Even as a child, you had something Mikhail never will. Natural authority. Intelligence. Your mother's heart but your father's strength. Vadim saw it, and it terrified him."

"So he tried to eliminate the threat." Anton scrubs his hands over his face.

“He wanted a son he could control,” Elena says. “Even at five, you were so strong. So stubborn. Vadim saw it.”

"Vadim knows who I am." Anton’s words are flat, emotionless, but I can see the storm brewing behind his eyes. "He's always known."

My mother goes pale. "That's impossible. I made sure?—"

"You made sure Alexei Orlov died," Anton interrupts. "But Vadim never stopped watching. He has pictures, Elena. Thirty years' worth of pictures."

The blood drains from my face. "Pictures of what?"

"Everything. Me at the Center. Graduation. My first kill. Every mission, every safe house, every breath I've taken since I was five years old." His hands clench into fists. “He’s known who and where I’ve been this whole time.”

"Oh God," my mother whispers, pressing her hand to her mouth. “He knows what I did.”

"That night—the last night I came to your room," Anton says, looking at me. "I wanted to tell you. I broke into his office. Opened his safe. He knew exactly who was working for him."

My stomach lurches. “I’m so sorry!”

Guilt wracks my body. I turned him away that night, and he’d been dealing with something huge.

“Don’t be,” he says. "All this time he was playing with me. Letting me think I was hunting him while he watched me like a lab rat." The rage in Anton's voice is terrifying. "Every move I made, every plan I formed—he knew about it."

"Then why didn't he kill you?" Dmitri asks.

Anton's laugh is bitter. "Because he was enjoying it too much. The irony of having his own son work as his weapon. Making me kill for him, betray for him, become exactly the monster he wanted."

"Does Mikhail know?" The question tears from my throat.

Anton meets my eyes. "I don't think so. But it doesn't matter now."

"What do you mean it doesn't matter?" My mother's voice rises with panic.

"Because now that we've run, now that I've taken his precious bride—" Anton's jaw clenches. "He'll reveal the truth. He'll tell Mikhail exactly who I am and watch him tear me apart. Finally getting the satisfaction of watching me die.”

This time, Dmitri doesn’t have jokes.

He curses, turns around and walks a few steps away.

The three of us sit on the stone steps in silence.

I can’t see a future.

My future is limited to days instead of years.

My mother drops her head. “I’ve failed.”