Page 4 of Twisted Secrets (The O’Malleys #3)

“I wanted to see you.” Sergei’s low voice with his thick Russian accent used to make her feel safe.

He was just as big and blond and brutal looking as he had been when she’d fallen in love with him, his nose broken one too many times to be rakish, his face that of a warrior.

His sheer size was something that had attracted her to him in the first place, a wall between her and the speculative looks she started getting from Andrei Romanov’s men as soon as she turned eighteen.

Sergei was the only one who’d looked at her like she was a person, and a special one at that.

He made her feel like more than the bastard daughter of the patriarch of the Romanovs—what was left of them.

She’d been such an unforgivable idiot.

She crossed her arms over her chest, shifting so she could get to the gun in her purse if necessary.

“Why don’t we try that again? What are you doing here, Sergei?

” She went ramrod straight, all the lingering looseness in her body from her encounter with Cillian going up in smoke. “He sent you, didn’t he?”

“Your brother is worried about you.”

“Half brother.” A vital distinction. They might share the same father, but Olivia would never be a Romanov.

The old hurt rose, the feeling of having no place of her own, but she forced it down.

She wasn’t in that life anymore, and she wasn’t about to be dragged back in because Dmitri suddenly decided to remember that they were related.

The Romanov name came with more strings attached to it than Pinocchio.

She’d dodged a bullet by her father never officially acknowledging her as his child—and she fully planned to keep on dodging it for the rest of her life.

She had to figure out what Sergei—and by association, Dmitri—was here for so she could get them both back out of her life. “For the last time, what do you want?”

“You know what I want.” The look on his face said it all.

Her . But that ship had sailed two years ago, and it wasn’t coming back—ever.

He knew it. He had to know it. He might pretend he could go back in time and regain her trust, but it wasn’t happening.

Olivia had been fooled once, but she’d never put him in the position where he could hurt her like that again.

From his muttered curse, he read that knowledge from her expression. “I want to see Hadley.”

No way. Not my daughter.

Olivia stopped short, clamping her lips shut around the instinctive denial. Hadley was hers . Where had he been for the last year while she’d been struggling to make ends meet? Off with Dmitri, probably torturing small animals and beating the crap out of helpless people .

Okay, that wasn’t fair, but she wasn’t feeling all that fair when it came to Sergei.

She had no doubt that he loved their daughter as much as he was able, just like she had no doubt that he’d loved her, too.

She also knew that he’d put a bullet in both their brains and throw their bodies into the river if Dmitri commanded it.

Sergei might— might —feel bad about doing it, but he’d do it all the same.

The Romanovs were his end-all, be-all, and nothing could compare to that.

If he was really here to see Hadley, he wouldn’t be showing up at one in the morning .

“She’s sleeping. Her bedtime is eight.” Olivia hesitated.

Every instinct demanded that she do whatever it took to see the last of him once and for all, but she was afraid that was her hurt talking.

Like it or not, he was Hadley’s father. She cleared her throat.

“If you really want to see her, you can come by in the morning.”

“I will.” He looked away, his Russian accent getting thicker. “But I am not here only for you.”

Of course he wasn’t. She should have known better than to think he’d shown up after twelve months of silence just to say hello.

“Tell Dmitri to leave me alone. He doesn’t want me in the damn family any more than I want to be there.

He needs to let it go.” Maybe if she said the words enough times, he’d actually listen. She wasn’t holding her breath.

“He can’t do that and you know it.” Sergei still didn’t look at her. “He is not a patient man, Olivia.”

She knew that. Hell, she knew that better than most people.

“I left all that behind when I moved away from New York.” She didn’t want it—any of it.

She didn’t care that Andrei got terminally ill and suddenly had a change of heart about the bastard daughter he’d spent the last twenty-two years ignoring.

She had no desire for a position within the Romanov empire or any of the so-called perks that came with it.

The only thing Andrei had done that was less than despicable was making sure she had a roof over her head and didn’t starve while growing up.

The bare minimum for survival. She didn’t owe him anything, and she sure as hell didn’t want any of his guilt-driven gifts.

Was she being stubborn? Hell yes. She and Hadley were doing just fine without touching the money Andrei had put in an account for her—especially since she couldn’t touch it without agreeing to everything else he’d wanted from her before he died.

“I don’t want the money, and I don’t want anything to do with the Romanovs.”

“That’s not what Andrei wanted.”

And that was the crux of it. Dmitri loved his father.

It was one of the only redeeming things about him, for all that Andrei hadn’t been a saint.

He wanted to honor Andrei’s last wishes, whether he agreed with them or not.

She got that. She just wasn’t willing to sacrifice both her and Hadley’s future to please a dead man.

Olivia took a deep breath, counted to three, and exhaled.

Yelling at Sergei wasn’t going to do a damn thing.

She looked up at him, suddenly so tired she had to fight to keep from weaving on her feet.

“Tell Dmitri that my leaving is the best thing that could have happened for either of us. He doesn’t want me in New York.

I don’t want to be in New York. He tried to bring me into the fold like our father wanted, and as far as I’m concerned, he’s done his duty.

” There would be no going back—not for her, and certainly not for Hadley.

She’d fought too long and hard to put that life behind her, and get to a point where she could raise Hadley in a household that didn’t think everything from tax evasion to torture to downright murder was acceptable as long as their bottom line was met.

A family who’d do anything for a little bit more power.

She might not be rolling in the cash the way Dmitri and his people were, but it was an acceptable tradeoff as far as Olivia was concerned.

Sergei shook his head. “Livie…that’s not good enough, and you know it.”

Yeah, she did. But she had to try. All Olivia had ever wanted was to grow up normal , and she had the chance to do that for her daughter.

Going back to New York wasn’t an option.

She slid past him to her door. “Good night, Sergei. I don’t want to see you around here again unless you’re actually deciding to be a father.

Dmitri can send someone else to be his errand boy.

” She walked into her apartment without another word and quietly closed the door behind her.

It wouldn’t be that easy. Dmitri excelled at pushing people’s buttons, and Sergei was a giant one when it came to Olivia.

She could barely look at his face without being transported back to that idiot girl she’d been when she thought that he’d leave with her.

That he’d step up as father to their child after the initial surprise of the pregnancy.

That he’d be the only person in her life who’d actually put her before the Romanov bottom line.

He hadn’t, and she’d barely gotten out as a result.

Except she hadn’t gotten out. Not really.