Page 132 of Stolen Empire

He moves to the bed and sits on the edge near my hip.

His hand reaches out as if he wants to touch me, then stops halfway and drops to the mattress instead.

"I need to ask you more about your mother."

I just woke up. I'm not ready for this, but I push myself up against the headboard despite the way my ribs protest the movement.

"I already told you everything I know."

"Tell me again."

His eyes search my face with an intensity that makes me want to look away.

"The details matter now. Where exactly does she live? Who does she see? What name does she use?"

I take a breath and let it out slowly.

"I don't remember the exact address, but it's on Komsomolsky Prospekt. Third floor of a yellow building with blue shutters. She remarried a man named Arsenty Korovin five years ago. Last I heard, he taught literature at the university."

"Anything else I should know? We have to track her down."

The question opens something inside me that I’ve kept carefully sealed.

Memories surface of packed boxes in the middle of the night, of my mother's face drawn tight with fear as she hurried me out of apartments I'd barely learned to call home.

"She told me my father had dangerous business associates. That we had to stay invisible to stay safe even though he was dead. We moved six more times in four years. She said it was to make sure no one could find us."

Dimitri's jaw works as he grits his teeth.

"She knew exactly what she was protecting you from."

"I guess she did."

I look down at my bandaged wrists.

"I never understood why she was so paranoid. Why she changed our last name. Why she made me promise never to tell anyonemy real name. I thought she was just traumatized by losing him and it was her way of dealing with the grief."

"She was protecting you from men like me."

He says it without emotion, as if he's simply stating a fact.

"Your father made agreements that would've bound you to the organization and its allies if anyone had known you existed."

I'm only now realizing how messed up this is.

He stands and moves to the window, putting distance between us.

"Your father supplied weapons and intelligence to mine during the territorial wars. In exchange, my father guaranteed protection for the Morozov family and a share of the profits. When your father died, the pact should've transferred to his heir."

"But no one knew he had an heir."

"No one knew he had a daughter."

He turns to face me, and something in his expression makes my stomach clench.

"If the other families find out who you are, they'll come for you. Some will try to use you as leverage against me. Others will claim you owe them loyalty based on old alliances. You represent power and legitimacy in a world where both are constantly being challenged."

I push the sheets aside and swing my legs over the edge of the bed.