32. Andrey

32

ANDREY

"Misha…?" Natalia whispers.

He flinches, his eyes trained on the floor. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just—" Natalia grabs his arm, pulling him closer to her. "I don't understand."

"I don't—It's not for sure. I don't have a birth certificate or anything." He's speaking fast, tripping over his own words. "But… I noticed things."

"Like what?" I ask.

"My mother spent a lot of time with him. She was one of his favorites. And he seemed to like us, I guess."

Natalia slowly pushes his sleeve up to reveal his arm covered in old scars. "He did this to you, Misha. He didn't like you. How could he be your—?" She chokes down the word.

"Our shed was nicer than the others," Misha explains. "We got new clothes. I was the only boy with a pair of sneakers."

Natalia is trembling, but with a deep breath, she steadies herself. "Did you ever speak to Nikolai?"

"Sometimes. But only about training, really. He used to supervise some of our training sessions, to see our progress. It was during one of those lessons that…" He trails off, chewing at his lip hard enough to draw blood. "It was during one of those lessons that I saw the birthmark on his collarbone. My mom always said I had one like my daddy. And I have a birthmark on my collarbone. So if his looked like mine, then…" He shrugs.

I clear my throat. "Misha, why didn't you tell us this before now?"

The boy wraps his arms around Remi. "Because the two of you… you're enemies… Nikolai hated you and your father. I know you hate him. I thought, if you knew, then you'd hate me, too."

I lean forward and put my hands on Misha's shoulders. "We can't help who our fathers are. The fact that Nikolai Rostov might be yours means fuck-all to me."

Although I can use this to my advantage, especially if he wants the boy back.

Hot shame follows the casual thought. It's hard to take off the crown and just be what this boy needs right now: a father, not a tyrant. Someone who loves him, not someone looking for any angle to exploit him.

"You're safe with us, Misha."

Those are the magic words. He releases a heavy breath and his entire body relaxes as though I've absolved him of all his sins.

As if I don't have far too many of my own.

"But if you remember anything at all from your days on the compound, if you think it could be helpful?—"

"There is something," he whispers.

Natalia looks up at me, a silent warning not to push him too far. I override her with a nod. "Go ahead."

"After I started to suspect that Nikolai might be my father… I guess I was curious. I wanted to know more about him." He winces as though he's ashamed of the fact. "I used to sneak out of our shed after curfew and go down to the warehouse when I saw that the lights were on. Sometimes, I would see Nikolai in there having meetings, or… erm… doing other things."

Natalia is still pale. Her eyes look unnaturally big against her hollow cheeks. She gives Misha's arm a squeeze, encouraging him on.

"There was this one night when a man was dragged in. Nikolai accused him of trespassing. He pulled out his gun and aimed it at the man. Somehow, the man talked Nikolai down."

"How?"

Misha shrugs. "He claimed that he had information that would be useful to Nikolai. He said that it would help him get out on top and… get everything he ever wanted since his parents were put behind bars. That's what he said, word for word."

"And Nikolai listened?"

"Nikolai didn't just listen. They talked for ages, and afterwards, Nikolai shook the man's hand. Then he had one of his lieutenants show the man to an empty shed. And…" He scratches and tugs at a loose thread in the upholstery for a while before continuing. "… my mother was sent to entertain him."

Natalia rubs his shoulder, but we're so fucking close to something . I can't let it stop here. "Do you know what kind of agreement they came to?"

"Andrey." Natalia rises to her feet. "It's late and we're all tired. I think that's enough for one night."

The boy looks emotionally wrung out. Exhausted in a way a fourteen-year-old has no right to be.

"You're right," I concede reluctantly. "Let's call it a night."

Natalia hugs Misha tight. "You're the bravest kid I know."

Fighting back tears, Misha nods. Natalia presses a kiss to his forehead and gives Remi a pat on the head. "Stay with Misha tonight, okay, boy?"

Remi gives her an agreeable bark and jumps onto Misha's bed. Only then does Natalia follow me out of the room.

The door clicks shut and we walk towards the patio, each of us lost in our thoughts. The moon is hiding behind dark clouds, so we have to rely on the dull garden lights to illuminate one another.

Natalia breaks the silence first. "He's not a tool to use, Andrey."

Despite myself, I stiffen. "I never said he was."

"No, but you did think about it. Didn't you?"

Her green eyes are shrouded in shadow, but I can still see the worry in them. I consider lying for a moment, if only to preserve her opinion of me. But lying now would be a slippery slope.

"Yes, I did. And I fucking hate myself for it." I reach up and stroke the smooth plane of her cheek. "I won't let Nikolai hurt either one of you, Natalia."

She gazes up at the invisible moon. It's out there, somewhere. Just hidden for now.

Then, with a sigh, her fingers lace through mine. "I know."