Chapter 22 - Chiara

My father’s men drag me into the house and throw me in a room. I”ve never been here before. I don’t actually know where I am.

I stumble, regaining my balance and turning toward the door just as they slam it shut in my face.

“Dad,” I scream through the door, pounding my fists against it. “Dad, what the hell is going on?”

For thirty minutes I shout through the closed door, demanding to see my father, and for thirty minutes I am ignored.

My throat is dry and aching when I walk toward the bed, feeling hopeless, terrified for what might be going on with Maxim. Is he safe? Has my father taken him as well?

I sit on the edge of the bed fighting tears. I do not want to cry now. I don’t want to lose control of myself like that. I have to stay focused.

The door lock clicks as it turns, and I freeze.

The door pushes open and my father walks into the room.

I glare at him. I am so full of anger, I want to claw his eyes out.

“Chiara, sweetheart, I am so glad we got there in time to save you.”

“Save me?” I laugh bitterly.

“Yes, of course.”

“You have never treated me as though you thought I was stupid or gullible. Don’t start doing it now.”

“Oh, sweetheart, no, I just—”

“Dad. Tell me what the fuck is going on,” I shout.

He shakes his head, his shoulders dropping.

“You were never supposed to be this involved. And you were never supposed to be at that second meeting location.”

“What did you do?”

“The Dubrovs told me about the first meeting location, but it was Stefano who told me about the second one when he managed to escape.”

“And?”

“And we had to move quickly to set up another device at that location as well.”

“You and Stefano…” I breathe heavily, hoping that I am misunderstanding him, but my intuition is screaming at me to hear the truth.

“Ha. Stefano? That idiot. He”s a hot-headed bulldog. He”s just a pawn to push around.” My father’s face changes, and now all I can see is the man I saw standing over that stranger, torturing him. I don’t know him like this, but right now, in this moment, I am beginning to see for the first time that this is the real him.

He steps closer to me, and I move away, scooting along the edge of the bed.

“Stefano was a piece in the puzzle of revenge that I was building. He had no clue. He”s too stupid to understand, anyway. It was easy to manipulate him.”

My father pauses and runs his hand through his thinning hair.

“Why, Dad? Why have you done all of this? All of those people who died in the explosions. You killed everyone.”

“I didn’t start this. They started it. That fucking Baranov Dubrov, he started it when he fucked my wife. Your mother. That whore. She ran off with Baranov Dubrov, insulting me, tearing my family apart. She deserved what happened to her. I made sure she suffered the same way that she made me suffer. I couldn’t get to Baranov, but she was an easy target.”

My chest is too tight and the air too thick to breathe.

“You killed my mother.”

“Of course I killed that bitch. What do you expect? Do you think I was going to let some slut fuck around behind my back and make a fool of me like that? Not a chance, sweetheart.”

I press my hand against my chest, fighting the panic surging through my body.

“Your mother betrayed me and paid the price. But that Dubrov family is so powerful, I couldn’t get to Baranov. He had to die, too. I needed to kill him. But I couldn’t. Honestly, I felt lost. I felt helpless and consumed with anger.”

He chuckles, that same sick laughter I’ve heard before. I don’t even recognize him anymore. This man standing in front of me is not my father. He is someone else. He can’t be my father. My mind refuses to accept that my own father would have taken my mother from me.

“Then, luck turned in my favor. I found out that Baranov was also having an affair with Stefano’s mother. This asshole had no shame when it came to sleeping with the wives of other men. So I seized my chance. I killed Stefano’s father, framing Baranov. It was the perfect plan. Because everyone knew his wife was fucking Baranov, when he turned up dead, Baranov was the most obvious suspect. Your husband’s uncle was easy to frame.”

“But you married Stefano’s mother,” I stammer.

“I did. We became close as I offered condolences to the family, and guided them to the conclusion that Baranov was the murderer. I spent time around her and her son, and we got on. So I asked her to marry me. My revenge was finished. I got what I wanted. My cheating wife was dead, and Baranov was the suspect. I thought I had found love again.”

He shrugs, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“But all women are the same.”

I bite my lip, searching the room for a weapon, but finding nothing.

“That bitch, I don’t get it. I took her in, and I treated her son as though he was my own. But she never loved me. There was always something that felt wrong about the way she treated me. Then one day I overheard her talking to Stefano. She told him she would never stop loving Baranov, and her heart would never get over how he made her feel. That stupid whore was still involved with the man who I framed for her husband’s murder. She didn’t even care that he had supposedly killed Stefano’s father. She still loved him. I couldn’t take it. I had to kill her as well.”

“You took Stefano’s mother from him.”

“I made him believe it was Baranov then, too. That boy started to hate the Dubrovs as much as I did. It was perfect. It wasn’t my original plan when I married his mother, but hey—things change. He hated the Dubrovs so much that he became the new plan. I started planting bombs, sabotaging our own shipments along with the Dubrovs”. All the while I whispered to Stefano that it was Maxim and his brothers. I knew he would eventually take matters into his own hands and cause trouble himself. He is such an ill-tempered boy. All I had to do was keep pushing him, and when shit hit the fan, my hands would be clean. Everything would be blamed on Stefano.”

My mind is racing with the madness of what he is telling me.

“If you hated the Dubrovs so much, why did you make me marry one of them?”

He laughs. “To piss Stefano off, obviously. That boy hates them to the point of insanity. He”s blinded by it. I just had to keep doing whatever I could to push him over the edge. When he found out you were going to marry into the family, oh, wow, did it fuel the fire inside him.”

“But Stefano was targeting Maxim and his brothers. They weren’t involved in the affair,” I try to reason with my father, still hoping that the person I know is in there somewhere.

“The entire family needs to burn. I hate all of them. I don’t give a fuck who they are or what they were involved in. They all carry the name, and that name needs to end.”

“You had me marry Maxim, just—as part of your plan?” I say softly, beginning to accept the truth. Really accept it.

I let the idea of who my father really is soak into me. It fills me up, shattering everything I have ever believed about him. He is not, and never was, the man I used to know.

He couldn’t go after Maxim’s uncle, so he just went after the next Dubrov. He was so blinded, and so selfish, that he was willing to use anyone and everyone in his plan for revenge.

Including his own daughter. Me.

Horror rips through the fabric of my reality.

My father is a cold, calculating, deeply evil man. He is hell-bent on getting what he wants, no matter the cost. No matter who gets hurts along the way.

When I look at him now, I can feel my eyes narrow with hatred. He is a monster.

He turns to stare at me.

“What?” he snaps.

I try to pull my thoughts together. He doesn’t care about me. He would kill me in an instant if it served his plan.

“What are you looking at me like that for? Do you hate me now, too? I saw that same look on your mother’s face the day I killed her.” He steps closer to me.

“No, Dad, I could never hate you,” I say gently, understanding that whatever happens, from this moment on, I have to keep the people I love safe. I have to do whatever it takes to make that happen.

“Huh?” my father pauses, confusion in his eyes.

“I can’t believe what they put you through. The amount of hurt. The way they betrayed you.” I stand up, slowly, and walk toward him. “My mother betrayed you, and so did Stefano’s mother. That isn’t love. They lied to you.”

“I know they did,” he agrees, watching me closely.

“And it was all Baranov Dubrov’s fault,” I continue. “Dad, I wish you had told me this. I never knew that you were suffering like this, alone. You could have spoken to me. You know that I love you, more than anything and anyone in the entire world. I would do anything for you.”

The shocked look on my father’s face gives me hope. He might believe me. His eyes soften, ever so slightly. “You have always been the closest person to me,” he says.

“And you have always been my father. Everyone else abandoned me, but you were always there for me. I know I can always rely on you. Dad, whatever you need—I love you, I will help you with anything. We can take them down together.”

“I thought you were happy with your marriage?”

“I never wanted to be married. I’m sick of it. I want to travel and see the world. I want to start my own business. Marriage is for the weak. I”m trapped there. But now I see why you needed me to be there—I mean the real reason. I understand it. Let’s work together, and finish this.”

I take another step toward him, and his shoulders seem to relax. The darkness is fading from his eyes. “My daughter,” he whispers. I reach out and hug him.

“Daddy, I love you,” I say, my head against his chest.

He wraps his arms around me, and I feel him resting his chin on my head. “You always were more like me than your mother. I guess you got more of my genes in you. My blood. A true Napoli.”

Resting my body against my father”s, pretending to offer him condolences and support, is making me want to puke. I keep forcing myself not to think about how he killed my mother and Stefano’s. I keep telling myself not to focus on all the lives of people he has taken, how many he has killed in his blind, selfish path of vengeance.

“We can take them down together, Dad,” I say, pulling away from him and smiling, a hint of darkness in my own eyes, matching the expression that I saw on his face. One of hatred for an entire family.

He grins back at me, and I know I have managed to convince him.

“So, what are we going to do? They trust me. I can be a part of your plan.”

“Yes, you can. We can take them down from the inside now,” he agrees. “Sweetheart, I have one or two things to take care of, and then we can get out of here. Are you okay to wait here for me?”

“Of course, Dad. Anything you need. But when you get back, we need to stop somewhere for some food. I’m so hungry,” I giggle, playing innocent, being the perfect daughter.

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he smiles.