Page 16

On Friday, Nestor leaves for work early, and I am home alone. It’s strange how empty the place feels when he’s not here. Even on the days when we are awkwardly avoiding each other, I still want him around. He makes this place feel like home.

Is it my home?

The question catches me off guard.

It’s strange to admit it, but it’s the closest thing I’ve had to a home before. Even with the strained, unknown relationship we have, Nestor makes sure I am welcome here. That I have everything I could ever need.

I place the book I’m reading down on the table, face down, with the pages spread open so I don’t lose my place. Sighing, smiling softly, I stretch my legs out in front of me. I’ve been sitting with them curled beneath me for over an hour, and I’m only realizing now how cramped they are.

It’s almost lunchtime, and my stomach growls to confirm it as I glance at the ornate watch Nestor bought me last week.

I shake my head and smile. He spoils me for no reason at all. I’ll come out of the shower and there will be a gift on my bed, beautifully wrapped. Or a bunch of flowers on the nightstand.

It’s thoughtful and sweet.

And confusing.

Am I allowed to let myself fall for him?

I push myself up and roam lazily out of the library, walking past some beautiful, lush green plants and high bookshelves.

A familiar voice calls from downstairs somewhere.

“Lara, are you home?”

I hurry towards the top of the staircase and lean over to see if I’m right.

“Ulyana?” I shout, excited to see her. “What are you doing here?”

I’m already rushing down the stairs, and she grins, opening her arms to hug me as I get to the bottom.

It’s strange how someone can be an instant friend. No weirdness, no awkward stages, just a true, relaxed, caring friend. That’s how I feel about Ulyana. And she makes me believe she feels the same about me.

“I thought I would visit while Nestor was out. I wanted to say hi, but if he sees me, I’m going to get another lecture for quitting uni.”

“You quit?” I say, horrified.

“It was so boring ,” she huffs, pouting her lip out. “I can’t imagine why in the world I thought I’d want to study business rubbish. I think I should start a new course next year—something in fashion.”

She pulls me towards the sofa and flops down into it.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I ask before I sit down, too.

“Oh, the lady of the house, yes please. Gin.”

I pour two blue gins, remembering that she likes them.

I set it down on the table next to her and then sit with my leg close to hers. She turns to face me and rolls her eyes dramatically. “Nestor is being so annoying about the uni thing.”

“He’s probably just worried about your future,” I shrug, but then realize with the amount of money in her family, she has nothing to worry about.

“He just doesn’t want me to have regrets later. But I know it’s not for me.”

“Did you tell him that?”

“I don’t think you understand just how much of a protective older brother he can be.” She laughs, sipping her drink. “How are things going between you guys?”

“It’s getting better. I’m learning things—sometimes it’s difficult for me to process everything.” I bite my lip.

“You mean—with what he does for a living?”

“Yes, that.”

“For us, it’s normal. Nestor and I were born into this life.

Our father died when we were very young, and Nestor was forced to step up way before he should have.

He was practically a kid still. But you know, he never complained.

Not once. And every time he spoke about things, he was more concerned about whether Mom and I were okay, not himself.

My brother is an incredibly special person.

He deserves the world. I don’t know what we would have done without him.

” She smiles, staring off into the distance, then suddenly turns towards me with a mischievous grin.

“Have you guys, um—are you guys trying to have a baby?” she asks so bluntly, I choke on the sip I’ve just taken and spit it back into the glass.

Ulyana cracks up laughing. “That is definitely a yes.” She winks at me. “Say no more. I just want to be an aunt.”

“I’m still coming to terms with being married, it’s a whole different step to start wanting babies,” I laugh.

“I think Nestor will make an excellent father, don’t you?” She stretches her legs out, resting them on the coffee table. Ulyana is beautiful. She has this calm confidence that radiates through her. I’ve always wanted a best friend.

But my entire life was spent in the shadow of my mom’s illness.

She has been sick for years. The cancer came back twice.

The third time it took her. I spent my childhood taking care of her.

And I am grateful that I had that time with her, but it stopped me from ever being able to make any real friends.

And then on top of that, my father became absent, off gambling, or manipulating me into believing another one of his lies.

I’ve never had a strong sense of family.

Of safety. And I’ve never had a real friend, not like Ulyana.

One where I can talk about anything and not feel judged.

Where she makes me feel welcome and comfortable.

“I think he’d make a great father,” I agree, considering how gentle he is with me. It doesn’t mean I’m ready to be a mother, but I think he would make an amazing dad. So much better than my father. Not that it’s comparable.

Ulyana chats about the new course she was looking at for fashion design, but then she flips to talking about the gorgeous dress she found at the mall a few days ago. Then she chats about her mom and her life and her brother and asks me a ton of questions about my life.

It’s an incredible feeling not to be lonely anymore. And this is the first time I’ve really processed the fact that since meeting Nestor, by force, I have not felt alone.

I’m a bit tipsy when Ulyana leaves, wanting to sneak away before Nestor gets home. I tease her about being scared of the lecture, and she scrunches her nose and says, “He’s scary when he gets bossy.”

I chuckle; I’ve seen his bossy side. It’s not scary to me. It does other things to me.

My cheeks flush with heat at the thought, but luckily, Ulyana is already waving goodbye as she hurries down the steps to where her driver is waiting.

Imagine living her life. Drivers to take you everywhere, more money than you can dream of, never having to worry about anything.

I guess it’s not as simple and dreamy as it seems.

Living in the mafia is dangerous. She told me that Nestor protected her from the lifestyle, keeping her mother and her safe all this time and not exposing them to most of it.

She knows how things work, but she’s never had to deal with it herself.

He’s done everything for them. He’s carried that burden alone, and it makes my heart melt for him even more.

I stand on the top step, watching her drive away, out of sight. And still I don’t move to go back inside.

Nestor deserves someone who really cares about him, too.

Someone who’s on his side. Someone who takes care of him.

I think that person is supposed to be me.

I want to be that person.

When I walk back into the house, I’m still thinking about family—my own, in comparison to his.

My father is a liar and a cheat. A manipulator who uses people every chance he gets.

I guess that’s why he become involved in the lower levels of the mafia, being a criminal suited him.

But even if he was working for the mafia…

that’s no excuse to be a bad person. Nestor isn’t like that.

He has integrity and treats people with respect.

Even his lower-level workers. It has nothing to do with what he does for a living; Nestor is just a good man. And my father is not.

The thought should hurt me.

But it doesn’t.

Maybe it’s time for me to call him. I haven’t had a proper conversation with him since he sold me to Nestor. I was angry, but now I might be starting to see that good can come out of bad choices.

And I might be starting to understand that being angry with my father is a waste of time and energy. He doesn’t deserve that from me—because he doesn’t deserve anything from me.

I want closure.

I want to accept him for who he is without letting it affect my self-worth or view of who I am. Because I spent my whole life living in the shadow of his shame—right up until the moment that Nestor freed me from it.

***

Upstairs in my room, I’m lying on my stomach on the bed, propped up on my elbows, staring at my phone.

Somehow, I understand that nothing good can come of speaking with my father—he hasn’t changed in any way—but I need to do this.

With a heavy sigh and anxiety stirring in my stomach, I sit up, dialing his number.

It rings a few times before he answers.

“Sweetie pie,” he says, gushing into the phone.

“Hi, Dad. How are you?” I ask, my throat tight.

“I’ve missed you.” Really? Before or after you sold me to a crime lord?

“Have you been doing okay?” I ask, ignoring the comment.

“Yes, no. I’ve been struggling. I could really do with some help.”

I roll my eyes—here it comes.

“Dad, I’m just calling to see how you are,” I say coldly. He hasn’t even asked me how I am. He hasn’t even bothered to say sorry for selling me before he asks me for something. Can he really be that self-centered?

Yes, Lara, you knew this before you made the call.

I take a slow, quiet breath. It’s okay. This call is for you, not him.

“Look, sweetie, I’m in a bit of a bind. I heard through the grapevine that things were going really well for you. Someone said you two were getting on great.”

“You mean the man you sold me to?”

He laughs nervously. “It was the universe working through me.”

He’ll say and do anything to get out of taking responsibility. I close my eyes and press my fingers against the lids. “Dad, I can’t help you with anything.”

“I just want you to ask Nestor to lend me some money, or maybe to help me get back in the game. No one wants to work with me because of him,” he says, still pushing.

“How much money did you owe him when you made the deal to sell me to him?”

There is tense silence on the other side of the line. For all he knows, Nestor might already have told me, and this could be a test of my trust in my father to be honest with me. He’ll be weighing the risk of telling me the truth or making it seem less severe.

“I cost him ten million dollars. Plus a bit that I still owed him from the past. I had to find the money—um, I didn’t have it.”

I can’t breathe for a moment. A blank wall of shock slams into me, and I sit in stunned silence. Ten million dollars.

My father owed him more than I can fathom.

How was I worth that exchange?

I shake my head. This is ridiculous.

“So, sweetie, like I was saying, if you could speak to your husband and put in a good word for me, then—"

“Dad, I know you will always be my father, by blood. But you have never shown me support or love or treated me with any kind of respect. You have given me no reason to do you any favors. I owe you nothing. Nestor owes you nothing, and my advice is to stay out of his way, and mine, respectfully, and get on with your life, being grateful that you didn’t have worse happen to you.

I am the one who is paying for your debts.

You sold me to cover them. Whatever you need to do to understand that, do it.

And never ask me for anything again. You can phone me to find out how I am.

I’m doing okay, by the way, thank you for asking,” I say sarcastically.

“But other than that—I don’t want to hear from you, Dad. Do you understand?”

“Sweetie,” he groans. “Don’t be like that. We’re family.”

“Not any kind of family like we should have been. I’ve got to go, Dad. I’m happy you’re alright, but no, I won’t help you, and neither will Nestor. Don’t push your luck with him.”

“Honey—"

“Bye, Dad.”

I hang up the phone. My heart is racing.

I’ve never been so firm with my boundaries before.

I’ve never spelled it out to my father that clearly.

It’s exhilarating. I feel empowered. A smile spreads across my face, knowing that it is because of Nestor that I have the security and support to do what I just did.

He quite literally changed my life. He saved me from everything I was struggling with.

I want to find a way to help him, too.

***

At dinner, I can’t stop staring at him. He doesn’t even know the power he gave me today. A power I’ve been wanting all my life. The relief of setting that boundary between my father and me.

“How was your day?” I ask, dishing up a plate of lasagna for him.

“Long,” he sighs, looking exhausted.

I walk around the table and set the plate down in front of him, sliding my hand over his shoulder, massaging him for a moment.

He closes his eyes and groans in pleasure, sending a spark of desire shooting through my body. I swallow hard. That was not what I was trying to achieve.

“Nestor, I wanted to say thank you, for, um, I don’t know exactly—but I spent the day with Ulyana today, um…”

He takes my hand and pulls me around to face him, turning his body away from the table.

“What’s going on, little one?” he asks, looking up at me.

“Thank you for making me feel so welcome in your family. It means a lot to me,” I say quickly, feeling overwhelmed with emotion and trying not to cry and make it weird.

He chuckles and pulls me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me. His eyes study mine as he gently brushes hair behind my ear. “I’m happy it was you,” he says.

His words are so simple, and I shouldn’t read into them, but my heart wants to.

I bite my bottom lip, realizing that I’m about to kiss him. Quickly, I stand up. I can’t do that. I want to talk to him about things.

I hurry around to my own seat, and he watches me like a hawk, a mischievous grin on his face the entire time.

Once I’m settled with food in front of me, I nod and push my shoulders back.

“I have skills, work experience, and I want to help you somehow. I can be useful in your world. There is no reason for me to just live off you without also contributing.”

He snorts. “Lara, you aren’t a drain in any way. You don’t have to contribute anything to the business,” he says, his brows furrowed with curiosity.

“I want to, though. I want to help you—to make things easier somehow.”

“Mm,” he says, picking up his fork and scooping up some lasagna. “I’ll think about it.”

I nod. “Okay, that’s great,” I smile, perking up.

I think he’s just not sure about my skill level. I’ll need to prove that I’m capable. I can do that. If he gives me the chance.