75
IVAN
I hear the front door open, but I don’t get up.
I’m too busy drinking. The cognac I drank with Cora the night we met seemed like a morbidly appropriate choice. I don’t bother with a glass; I just slug it straight from the bottle.
The alcohol is still burning down my throat when my sister appears in the doorway. For the first time in a long time, there isn’t a hint of a smile on her face.
“Well, this is every bit as pathetic as I thought it would be,” she remarks. “I never thought I’d hate to be proven right.”
“Go away, Anya.”
She marches over to the sofa and holds out her hand. I know she wants the bottle of cognac, but I ignore her.
“Ivan,” she warns.
I glare up at her. “Anya.”
She drops her hand and takes a step back. For a second, I think she’s going to leave. Anya hates when I’m in a mood—a mood that alcohol inevitably makes even worse.
“Fine. Be a booze-soaked asshole. Call me when you’re sober,” she shouted at me the last time I got drunk after a brawl with our father.
But she surprises me this time. Instead of storming out, Anya kicks off her heels and curls up on the end of the sofa facing me. “I know you’re not really drunk.”
I scowl at her, refusing to say anything else.
She’s right, of course. I just sat down with this bottle five minutes ago. I’ve had the equivalent of two shots, maybe, and I’m already ready to be done. With everything going on right now, I can’t afford to get shitfaced. No matter how pleasant it would be to forget the events of tonight in a haze of liquor.
I sit up and place the bottle on the coffee table. “Why are you here, Anya?”
“Because someone has to talk some sense into you and I’m the only one qualified for the job.”
“That is too depressing to be true.”
She shrugs. “Such is your social life. Yasha lets you get away with far too much shit, so he’s out of the question. And, well, you know why Cora is no longer an option.”
My stomach twists at the sound of Cora’s name. It’s only been a few hours since Yasha drove her away, but it feels like days. Having her out of my world was supposed to help me focus on what matters.
Why, then, has walking through this house been like fumbling through a dense fog? Nothing feels familiar anymore. In a matter of days, Cora showed up and turned my life on its head.
Now, I don’t know which way is up.
A hand lands on my shoulder. I flinch and look over to see Anya is watching me with concern in her eyes. “Tell the truth.”
I pull away from her. “About what?”
“About everything.”
“You already know—”
“Not to me.” She gives me a sad smile. “Cora wants to know you, Ivan. After she was drugged, I was there when she woke up. The first thing she wanted to know is if you were okay. She also wanted to know more about you. She had a lot of questions that I couldn’t answer…” Her voice trails off.
I narrow my eyes. “What did you tell her?”
“I told her my story,” she says, sitting tall. “I told her she needed to ask you about a lot of things, but I told her about myself.”
“Fuck, Anya.” I drag a hand through my hair and snap my gaze back to my sister. “You told her about Lev? You told her about the deal?”
She nods. “I told her what you did for us. For me.”
“Fuck,” I growl again.
I told Cora from the beginning that our relationship was just a facade. She knew it was going to end. But I never told her why.
I wanted her to think I didn’t care. It’s easier if she thinks I’m some heartless bastard who can fuck her and toss her aside when I’m done.
Now, she knows that it isn’t about not wanting to marry her or having no interest in her. It’s that I can’t marry her. I can’t be with her—because of my own bleeding fucking heart.
“What’s done is done, so don’t even bother trying to work yourself into a fuss about it. Better yet, drop it. All of it. This mask that you put on, this bullshit facade—just cut that shit out. Tell Cora who you really are. Tell her what you did for me…and for Katerina.”
I shoot a warning look at my sister. She is the only person who knows about Katerina. About the truth of what I did.
Anya looks me in the eyes. “I know it’s hard for you, but you really can trust me, Ivan.”
“I know that.”
“Good.” She reaches out again and grabs my arm. This time, I don’t pull away. “Because I love you. You’re my brother. And, as depressing as it is for both of us, you’re one of my best friends, too.”
I wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t. When I look over, she’s blinking back tears.
I shake my head. “No. None of that. No crying.”
“Sorry. Now, it’s almost like I’m trying to scare you away.” She laughs and dabs at her eyes. “All I’m trying to say is, I want you to be happy. And I can’t remember ever seeing you as happy as these last couple weeks. Cora is—”
“A prop,” I interrupt. “She’s here to help us catch whoever is going after our family, and then she’ll be gone. It isn’t any deeper than that.”
She sags, staring at me with obvious disappointment. “I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care,” I say flatly. “You don’t have to believe me. It’s the truth.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Anya—”
“No!” She stands up and plants her hands on her hips. “You’re lying to yourself. Even worse, you’re lying to me. You can hide from everyone else, but I’m your sister.”
I stand up, towering over her. “Exactly! You’re my sister. Which means you know better than anyone the kind of pressure I’m under.”
“I do know how much pressure you’re under. And I…” She wilts slightly. “I know that some of that is my fault. A lot of it, probably. Which is why I can’t let you walk away from this woman without a fight. You can’t just give Otets what he wants.”
“I’m not giving him anything. He takes,” I hiss. “All he fucking does is take, take, take. I won’t be like that. That is why I let Cora go.”
Anya frowns. “You let her go because you don’t want to be like Dad? I don’t…”
Cora looked me in my eyes and asked to leave. She told me she didn’t want to stay here. She said I would have to tie her down against her will to keep her here.
I am a lot of things, but I am not my father. I’ll never do to Cora what he did to my mother.
Anya seems to understand all at once. She sighs. “Ivan, this is different. It’s not like that.”
“I know it’s not,” I say quickly. “Because I let her go. She wanted to leave, so I let her. It’s not like it matters anyway. She would have left sooner or later. Might as well be sooner.”
“Don’t do this. Don’t deny how you feel because—”
Anya cuts off the same moment the front door opens.
There are only two people on this planet who barge through the front door like they own the place. One of them is already in the room. And the other…
“Ivan!” my father bellows.
Anya groans. “Just what this moment needs: two sullen bastards.”