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I couldn’t hide all the bad I did with the good, but this decision would be the mark I leave for the future.

The blue, rundown backpack my mother handed me when I was thirteen finally proved useful. Though it had terrified me at first, the bag harbored the answers I’d long sought:

Initials on the front that were never mine. A birth certificate, bank account, and an apartment, prepaid in full. And a handwritten letter explaining it all.

All that made me who I am, stuffed into this worn bag. Remembrances of my childhood, but more importantly, facts that painted the full picture.

Mother may have left me for good, but not before she set me up for life.

Always three steps ahead, that woman. Until the past caught up with her.

My mother, Inna, was born in Odesa, Ukraine, an only child to a working-class family.

Her father, a retired army officer, and her mother, who worked at the post office, raised her with love.

Growing up by the sea, Inna enjoyed a peaceful childhood.

From a young age, she set her sights on becoming a nurse, the first in her family to pursue higher education.

Her parents were immensely proud of her achievements.

After graduating, she joined the Red Cross to gain field experience, but it wasn’t long before she caught the attention of the Bratva. With few options, she relocated to Russia, hoping to send money back home to her parents.

The funds allowed my grandparents to retire and enjoy a better life.

Under the rule of Kristian Laurov, the Pakhan at the time, Inna worked her way up to become a member of his medical team. Only a trusted few were allowed to be close to the Pakhan, let alone treat him.

Long story short, they fell in love. Luckily, she left out the details.

They both knew it wasn’t meant to be, yet that didn’t stop them from trying. When you’re wrapped up in feelings, you tend to disregard reason.

With her Ukrainian heritage and father’s duty to marry the daughter of a prominent Russian politician, she would never be accepted.

Back then, the organization valued tradition above all.

The Pakhan’s wife was a position worthy of those with the right pedigree.

So mother became the next best thing: The Black Widow.

A legend whispered about in the streets.

Poetic, if you ask me. She found the perfect way to use her knowledge of the human body and stay close to my father without raising suspicion.

Planned or not, I came along. Out of love, but most importantly, out of wedlock.

A bastard child of the Pakhan was a threat that couldn’t be ignored.

The tension within the Laurov family only grew.

The plan was for mom to live in the United States, where I would grow up until I came of age.

The big reunion was in sight. Unfortunately, before that ever happened, father was betrayed by his brother, who appointed himself the ruler .

One person’s greed brought misery to all, resulting in bloodshed and the entire Laurov line wiped out in a shootout. A bloody massacre. Family killed by family.

Ilya’s father took over shortly after.

We had a place of our own in the city, far from prying eyes, which spared us the worst of it. When my mother learned what happened, she bottled the rage, forsook the revenge, and took off with baby me. We got on the next plane to New York.

Full of sadness and grief, she swore to hide and protect me. For thirteen long years, we lived undetected thanks to her unique skills.

My grandparents, whom I never met, died and were buried by neighbors, as their only daughter never made it back home. Inna never stepped foot in her own country again. I was all she had left and vice versa.

Father never married. Death found him sooner. With no other children of his own, I was the only surviving family member of the Laurov line. His legitimate heir.

This protected secret was now both a weapon and a curse, revealed to the world. All for one reason: to prevent bloodshed. For those who stood by me when it mattered. For the promise of a future. All in an effort to keep my freedom.

So another person, another child, wouldn’t have to live in a world of secrets and betrayals. I would carry the burdens, all to protect the little worth protecting.

***

The Galkins had a family home where their parents retired.

Alisa hid there while her brothers attended the meeting.

She was sitting in the back garden with her feet stretched out when we entered, a cup of steaming tea balanced on her thigh.

Her hair had grown long, longer than I had ever seen her wear.

Through the glass door, I watched her run to the entrance .

“Where is she?” Her eyes, a familiar green, searched the space.

“Hi there,” I greeted her from behind a wall of Galkin men.

Pushing her brothers aside, Alisa squeezed through, crashing into me with all her might. “I’m so mad at you.”

I kissed her cheek, whispering, “I know.”

An unidentifiable sound escaped her, a mix of laughter and tears.

“Are you crying or laughing? I can’t tell,” I asked, my voice soft.

Maxim and I locked eyes, and the weight of his gaze unsettled me. His presence was both a comfort and a challenge, a reminder of all the unspoken words between us. I closed my eyes and hugged Alisa tighter.

“While I might be mad, I missed you too much. You made me worried.”

As we pulled apart, I murmured, “It’s good to see you.”

Alisa gave me a pointed look. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

“I think you do too.”

When we all settled onto the velvet Victorian couches, I scanned the lavish space, taking in the history. The house had character, its charm visible in the squeaking wooden floorboards and the hand-painted wallpaper adorned with delicate floral patterns.

I might have been born in Russia, but I couldn’t remember anything about the place.

Until recently, I wasn’t sure if there was even a part of me that could identify as such.

But sitting here, among them, in the very country I still knew so little about, I saw the glimpses.

We all shared the same resilience, the same hotheadedness.

And while many bowed before the stronger hand, we refused.

Now, we held the power. Not for personal gain, but to prevent all that had happened from repeating.

I called Andrei in advance, and our lengthy conversations led to this moment. Despite his lack of interest in power, the state of the organization convinced him to act.

“Can we address the elephant in the room?” Luka asked as we all settled in .

“Which one? There’s an entire herd,” Maxim grunted.

Luka threw his hands in my direction, gesturing. “That a literal runaway mafia princess is sitting in our living room?”

“Don’t tell mama we have royalty under our roof,” Alisa shushed her brother. “She’ll insist on bringing out the best silverware.”

“I guess now you’ll have to bow every time you see me,” I joked.

Luka glanced at his brother, expecting a reaction. When he got none, he stood up, walked over, kissed the top of my hand, and bowed low, surprisingly elegant. The gesture felt ridiculous.

“Stop it,” I laughed, gently pushing the top of his head away. “I don’t have a drop of royal blood in me.”

“I beg to differ,” Luka teased, still holding my hand.

I raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I played princess enough for today.”

Alisa chuckled but leaned in, curious. “I need to know everything.”

I sighed, shifting the mood. “You know how I said I was an orphan?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I wasn’t one for the first thirteen years.

My mom and I lived in a house in the suburbs, isolated from the rest of the world,” I recalled my childhood.

“I had no idea who any of us really were. She kept both her identity and my father’s a secret.

I tried asking her, hoping to make sense of who I was, but she would always shut me down. ”

“I get it,” Alisa said softly.

I exhaled, the weight of it all hanging in the air.

“It’s hard to believe… that both of my parents lost their lives because of their choices.

I don’t think about what it would be like if they were still here.

It’s done and dusted,” I sighed before I met their eyes.

“But to move forward, we have to stop hiding. We need to let the secrets out in the open.”

I straightened, my voice unwavering. “This is mine. My name is Taya Laurov. To you? I hope to be the same Taya I’ve been since we met. Nothing changed. ”

Alisa smiled, her usual unrestricted smile, and despite the world crumbling in the distance, I returned it.

“It’s your turn to tell us the truth, sestra ,” Maxim diverted the attention.

Alisa fidgeted with her dress. “I know. I’m just not ready for what it’ll mean.”

I kept a steady hold on her chilly hand. “We’ll get through this.”

In a deep breath, Alisa faced us and began telling the story we had long awaited to hear.

“I met Ilya in the club. It seemed to be the place to go around here,” she revealed. “I went out to celebrate and find some local friends. I felt lonely after saying goodbye to my life at uni.” Her gaze burned a hole in the wooden flooring.

“I don’t know what I was trying to prove,” she shrugged.

“The drinks were flowing, and I was having a good time. But now that I replay the events of the night, I’m pretty sure it was intentional on his part,” Alisa admitted.

“He kept talking about the future, and security, and I haven’t decoded any of it. ”

Her shy gaze roamed the room, first landing on her brothers, before settling on something to the left. Her throat closed, forcing her to abruptly cut to the end. “I wished to have something of my own,” she rushed out.

The questions were visible in her brother’s expressions, but I shut down their attempts. She’ll come to us when she’s ready. When she’s at peace with her choices and their consequences. When she identifies the reasons that drove her. Until it clicks into place, the conversation is closed.