Page 78 of Scarlet Thorns

“I smile.” I drain my vodka and immediately pour another. “Just not at your ugly face.”

Melor snorts with laughter, the sound echoing through my too-large living room. “That’s not smiling,bratan. That’s grimacing.”

The banter feels familiar, comfortable in ways I’d forgotten were possible. This is what I missed about having family around— people who knew you before you became whoever you’re pretending to be now. People who remember when your biggest concern was whether the neighborhood boys would respect your claim to the best corner for selling cigarettes.

But comfort in my world has always been temporary.

The atmosphere shifts when Radimir’s expression grows serious, the alcohol loosening his tongue in dangerous ways. “Don’t you want to find out why Galina had to die and who did it?”

What the fuck?

The laughter dies instantly, replaced by the kind of silence that precedes executions.

I set down my glass with deliberate care, each movement controlled despite the rage building in my chest like nuclear fission. My brothers watch me with the focused attention of drunk men who’ve suddenly realized they’ve stepped into a minefield.

“No.” The word comes out flat, final.

“Why the fuck not, Osip?” Melor asks, his voice carrying genuine confusion. “Someone killed Galina. Someone murdered your pregnant wife and your unborn son. And you’re just… what? Going to let them get away with it?”

“Because I know why she died.” The admission tears from my throat. “Because of me and my fucked-up past. Because I brought violence into our lives and it followed me home. Which is exactly why I left that world behind me.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Radimir says, his earlier mischief replaced by something harder. “You think this is your fault? You think Galina died because you deserved it?”

“I think bloodshed breeds more bloodshed until it turns into an endless cycle.” I stand up, needing distance from their questions, their certainty that violence can solve what violence created. “I think some doors should stay closed.”

“Pizdets.” Melor’s voice carries disbelief. “If I hadn’t heard that with my own ears, I wouldn’t believe you said it. This from the man who once killed three Chechens with a broken bottle because they looked at him wrong.”

“That man is dead,” I mutter. “He died in that house with Galina.”

It’s hard to believe I’m actually saying the words out loud. Those first weeks after her death, I’d raged for revenge. But time has changed my perspective. Being that man was the reason she died in the first place.

The silence that follows is heavy, carrying the weight of violence that shaped us all. I can feel their judgment, their confusion at seeing me choose peace over vengeance.

“Drop it,” I say finally, my voice carrying enough warning to freeze blood.

My brothers exchange glances, some silent communication passing between them. Finally, they drop the topic, but the tension remains in the air.

That’s when Melor decides to shift to safer ground— or what he thinks is safer ground.

“Speaking of moving on,” he says, his grin returning with forced brightness, “what about this new housekeeper of yours?”

My hand tightens around the crystal tumbler. “What about her?”

“Come on,” Radimir joins in, leaning forward with renewed interest. “You hire some beautiful American woman, move her into your house… sounds like more than just cleaning to me.”

“She needed a job. I needed help around the house.” I keep my voice even, controlled. “It’s not complicated.”

“Isn’t it?” Melor’s eyes glitter with mischief. “Beautiful woman, living in your house, probably grateful for your protection…”

“Maybe she’ll give you that kid you always wanted,” Radimir adds.

I feel myself go cold.

The vodka and grief make my control slip for just a moment. “I don’t want that anymore.”

“Bullshit,” Melor says. “You always wanted a family, Osip. Even when we were kids, you were the one talking about having sons to carry on the name.”

“That part of me died with Galina.” I glare down into my glass. “I don’t want a relationship. I don’t want kids. Not anymore.”