Page 60 of The Tsar’s Obsession (Bratva Sinners #1)

“You sent that letter?” I didn’t want to lecture her, and I didn’t want to make her state worse, but I couldn’t stop my next words.

“The whole thing was such a big lie, Polina. You know… you know,” I emphasized the word, leaning closer to her, “that’s not who I am.

You could have revealed so many gruesome details about me, but you chose that lie? You know me!”

I stared into her eyes, remembering who we were when we met. Out of all the things Polina could have written in that letter, I truly couldn’t believe she went with that awful lie.

“I’m s-sorry,” she stuttered, her whole body shaking with her silent sobs. “I’m sorry.”

Sorry. A word we all hide behind when we know we fucked up beyond repair.

An invisible clock ticked somewhere while we sat in silence, both of us waiting for her to calm down. What’s done is done.

“I’m going to arrange your travel back home.” I informed her, not looking away from her depleted state. “And I’ll give you protection there. If you want it. You need rest, Polina. You can count on me for whatever you need, anytime. I’m staying here.”

I pitied her, but I was also raging. My team, my men—no one could be trusted. I would have to break it all down into nothing and rebuild. Her little secret blinded her, aiding in bringing us all closer to death than ever before.

She nodded quickly, her crying intensifying once more and our visit coming to an end. “Stay safe. Call me if you need help. I’ll pick up the phone.” Without saying another word, I left a despondent Polina in her hospital bed, closing the chapter on our partnership.

But the next day another miserable chapter awaited me, and Mia too. My private jet descended from the clouds, the Moscow runway soaked with rain. The landscape was lush, deep forests completing the familiar scene. Always so close to the runway, it felt like we were about to graze the treetops.

I was home.

The difference between the two continents was impossible to ignore.

It had been a year since I’d been back, but I felt like I’d aged a decade.

The air was different here. Everything, everything was so foreign to me in America, but here it all felt right.

At the same time, I had Mia, and it didn’t matter where I lived because she was home.

The seven-hour car journey to Yuri’s was interspersed with a few naps, but during most of it, Mia hungrily took in the landscape outside. My country was vast, rich, green, and one of a kind. I thought I wanted to be back here and feel my true power, but I was wrong.

No, I wanted to walk away from it all, throw my empire into oblivion. It would require an unprecedented step, meticulous planning, and, regrettably, complete secrecy. The plan was slowly coming into view in my mind.

Rain drizzled onto Yuri’s coffin while the priest read out the last prayer, and my love cried the entire time. I wasn’t sure she’d ever been to a funeral before, but for me, death was a constant companion for the last two decades. So many lives had been taken, so many souls were sent underground.

Hundreds of people stayed for the memorial dinner, wiping their tears at my speech.

But I had none—I had no tears for death.

Yuri’s family had become my own, and we all held it together.

My mistake not only put Mia on the verge of death but also cost Yuri his life.

It would take time to overcome this loss.

Exhausted, drained, and grief-stricken, I helped Mia climb into bed at the end of the night, wiping her tears for the hundredth time that day.

Her soul was so pure. She mourned not so much for Yuri but with me.

While I didn’t shed a tear, losing him left a crater in my heart, and she saw it; she felt it.

She knew me inside out, just like I knew her .

As always, I woke up earlier than Mia the next day and admired the sunlight playing on her skin. She would always be beside me; I would never let her go. I would give this all up and live a peaceful and calm life with her. No more drugs. No more games. No more blood.

Her sleepy smile drew my lips to her in the warm, soft bed, and she responded with silly giggles, like music to my ears. God, this was like a sweet beginning that we missed. She was inimitable; every glance, every breath, every touch from her was sent from above.

Her eyes caught every one of my features. Her love for me was real; I knew it, I felt it, and her heart was mine. And I had a hunch she was going to bring it up now that we were here.

"Where are you from?" Her gentle voice was a stark contrast to the images that popped up in my head at the mention of my old home. Everything inside me kicked and screamed. I didn’t want to go back. After a whole minute of silence while Mia patiently waited for me, I finally said it.

“I’m from Tver region. It’s like an eight-hour drive from here. Please don’t ask if we can go there.”

Her soft hand on mine, she asked. “You know you have to, my love. And I know you want me to see it too. The place is not responsible for the memories, and…when was the last time you were at your mom’s grave?”

“I don't want to go back there. I don't want to see the house; I don't want to see my father. There’s probably nothing left of the village anyway." Not daring to meet her eyes, I tried to reject her argument. But she was right, of course; I had to go.

Mia didn’t push the subject anymore, but the next day, we set off to visit my painful past. In the helicopter, we traveled in silence over the vast distance.

Mia was mesmerized by the sheer size and beauty of my motherland.

Lush forests and clear lakes and rivers were meshed like a mosaic with small towns and villages peppered throughout.

How many hungry and determined boys wandered this land? Another Kirill Alekseev was on the rise somewhere below; I understood that very clearly.

Half abandoned, the village was a mix of dead and new. Old broken houses stood beside new summer vacation builds. After all this time, it all looked the same, just a bit more overgrown than I remembered.

It only took a few minutes to locate my childhood home—the place of sadness and despair. Life wasn’t fair. Life proved that again and again. The house was long abandoned; only ruins remained, and trees rose up from the collapsed roof.

Planted to the ground, I stood and stared, thinking back to my awful and unhappy childhood and how it probably shaped me into the man I was today. The bruises from my father’s hands had long healed, but the emotional pain remained a scar on my heart.

He was uncontrollable. Violent and uncaring, his drinking overpowered our entire life, and even though he had moments of clarity where he visibly regretted it, his addiction was stronger than him. Stronger than all of us.

“Is this it, baby?” Mia asked quietly, afraid to disturb.

I left an angry boy, and I harnessed that rage into a powerful force.

I craved risk and danger. Revenge, even.

I squeezed Mia’s hand tighter, her presence keeping me grounded in reality.

I always wanted to prove to myself that I wasn’t like him, that I would never succumb to his poison.

I would make something of myself. I would be powerful and free to do as I pleased. I would be in control.

And I succeeded; I had the world at my fingertips.

But the hurt he caused all of us never disappeared.

He took away the only love I ever knew. Robbed me.

My mother wasn’t simply beautiful; she was an angel.

I felt her love; she implanted it inside me.

She always protected and defended me until one day I had no one to rely on. So I found the strength within.

My memories of her were so clear and bright.

We used to sit in our garden and eat fresh strawberries while she told me about the kind of man I would be when I grew up; smart, respectful, happy, with a kind and beautiful wife and many children.

The time I had with her was shamefully short, but her impact kept me from sliding into complete darkness.

I had forgotten her voice, but her radiant smile would forever be seared into my mind.

"Thank you for making me come here.” I pulled Mia in, needing to feel her embrace. “Let’s go to the most important place."

With Mia in my arms, I took long strides to the cemetery, the one place that mattered.

Overgrown with last year’s tall grass and small trees, Orthodox crosses rose out of the ground, but I couldn’t recognize anything and had no idea where my mother’s grave was.

The tall weeds at my waist, I swatted them away but was having no luck until Mia called me over; she found the tombstone right away.

No one had touched it for decades. On my knees and with trembling hands, I ripped the weeds out and cleaned the chipped paint off her name.

Her name. I didn’t think I’d ever see it again.

I stayed silent for a whole minute, but then I suddenly had the urge to tell Mia everything, never having had the chance to speak to anyone about it.

"You know, she always said to me that God is good. God will help if you ask.” I sat on my knees in front of my mother’s grave and thought back to her funeral.

“When she died, for the longest time I hated church and God.

How could God be good if he took her away from me?

She lived such a hard life, and she didn't deserve what happened to her.

She was a ray of sunshine. Just like you. " I confessed all that was on my heart.

Mia didn’t interrupt, landing her soft hands on my shoulders.

“One day, around when I first saw you, she came to me in a dream.

She was smiling and walking through a field and said to me, 'Look up, Kirusha; you will miss the sunshine if you dig around in the dirt all the time.

' And that's when I went to church for the first time.

It was odd," I chuckled at the memories.

"I definitely looked like I didn't belong there. Still the same, I think."

I vividly remembered all the church grandmas giving me vicious side-eye when I first stepped foot into a church as an adult. I looked rough and violent with a permanent scowl on my face, not exactly a man of God.

As time went on, God and church crept into my daily thoughts, but I could never leave the lifestyle. On the contrary, I only planted deeper roots within the criminal world. I’d confess and light a candle for my mom in the morning and late at night; I’d blow out brains or count my blood money.

"I haven't been here since I left, and that was a very long time ago.” Twenty-six years, to be exact. I rose to my feet and helped Mia place the bouquet of flowers that she prepared earlier. We stood there, in a hug, our little journey both painful and cleansing.

"Well, Mom, this is my woman. You were right; she’s kind and the most wonderful person to walk the earth.

" My chest filled up with the fresh air while I held on tightly to the love of my life, forbidding myself from descending into tears.

After all the hell that I lived through, after all the sins that I took on, I found the sunshine once more.