Page 44 of Echoes of Sin

He sighed heavily. “There is something else, but now is not the time to distract you, not until we figure out who is stealing from you.”

“If you have information you think I should know, tell me.” I sat up on the bed and then stood and walked to the living room. My arms and legs felt tingly, and I paced around the floor.

“When I was speaking with Lieutenant Watts, two little girls rushed past us into the yard.”

“Two little girls? So he has daughters?”

There was a long silence before he spoke again, “He has a son and a daughter, that’s what my sources told me. Not two girls, and…” he paused, sounding like he’d prefer to face a firing squad then tell me whatever the hell he was going to say.

“Spit it out Dmitri,” I said, frustrated that my oldest friend was being evasive.

“One of little girls had blond hair and blue eyes, Ilya. She looks like you.”

His words slammed into my chest, the implication almost suffocating. “What?”

“She could be your double, she looks to be seven or eight years old.”

“It can’t be.” But could it be true? Brooke and I had been together once eight years ago, and we hadn’t used birth control. I was young and impetuous, and it had happened so suddenly neither of us had been thinking straight. “Shit.” I spun around just as Brooke emerged from the bedroom with wet hair and pink skin.

Her gaze collided with mine and instantly filled with worry and fear, and in that moment I knew.

“Ilya, are you still there?”

“I am. But I need to go. Are you still with them?”

“I’m in my car watching the property.”

“Okay. Stay there and I will reach out soon.” I ended the call and tossed my phone on the sofa, my eyes never leaving Brooke. “Is it true?”

Her eyes widened in a far too innocent look that only intensified my anger. “Is what true, Ilya?” Her attempt at being calm didn’t fool me at all because she was a terrible liar and looked away like someone with something to hide.

I sighed, closing my hands into fists to push back the irritation and anger that boiled inside me. It couldn’t be true, was the thought that pulsed through me even though everything from Dmitri’s words to her actions right now told me it was in fact true. “Is. It. True?”

Her gaze met mine and she lifted her chin, an air of defiance surrounding her. “You found out about Karina.” The words came out, not as a question but as a resigned fact.

I let out a bitter laugh as I shook my head, disbelief wrapping around me as the truth became clear. We’d been in this little bubble here in the penthouse and I thought we were moving past the past, that we were becoming something more than enemies. “It was a secret?”

Brooke’s laughter came out harsh and brittle. She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head as if she needed a moment to herself. As if she had the right to be angry. As if she was the wronged party. But then her arms fell to her sides and her gaze met mine head-on, and it was ice cold, steely, and held no trace of her earlier warmth. “A secret? You might have known about her if you hadn’t left the country and never looked back. Sure, your father died and that’s why you couldn’t come back, I get that. But you didn’t think of me at all. You didn’t think to call or email or text, not even once in all these years. I had to give up my dreams of college, my parents’ marriage broke down. My brother didn’t speak to me for almost two years. I’ve raised my daughter alone. I had to do it, because what choice did I have? Her father walked away and forgot all about the girl he fucked at a Christmas party.”

She was right. I could say I was a kid, and she was expecting too much, but that was a weak argument. “Brooke—”

“No, Ilya!” She pointed at me, her chest heaving and her eyes burning with a fire I hadn’t seen until now. “Unlike you, I tried to find you. You know how many Kuznetsovs there are in Moscow, or even in Russia? Millions. So, no, it wasn’t a secret, you just didn’t give a damn about the consequences of that night. Until just this moment, apparently.” She turned away dismissively.

My anger was a living, breathing thing in the room with us. It was white-hot and it bubbled to the surface. “That’s a bullshit answer.”

“Of course, you would say that now,” she replied without looking at me. “You feel better as the victim in this scenario. The wronged man, as it were. I’ve been tearing myself apart wondering if I should tell you about her. When I realized what you were involved with, I started to think maybe I should just keep quiet. Then what happens when my conscience gets the better of me and I decide I have to let you know? You kidnap me, hold me in your fucking penthouse for days, and tell me that your uncle has put a fucking hit out on me.” Brooke’s arms wrapped around her waist as she glared out at the city.

“Victim is the last word anyone would ever use to describe me.”

“Then accept that you were wrong, or at least understand why I kept her from you.” She turned slowly to face me. “I was a virgin, Ilya, and yes, I wanted you that night, but I thought I was in love. I was heartbroken when you didn’t come back. Maybe if I hadn’t fallen pregnant, I’d have gotten over it and come out the other side—bitter, but more experienced. But I didn’t. I had to grow up then and there and take responsibility for my actions. While you waltzed off living your best life, without a thought of what you might have left behind.” The last words rushed out on an exhausted breath as if she was simply too tired to keep arguing. I know she was trying to hurt me, I wasn’t living my best life, I was grieving for my father and being pushed into the family business years before I was ready. But I let her words go. Instead, I asked, “And when I came back?”

She shrugged. “You didn’t come back for me, you’re here to make money and maybe even to gain power. It was a stupid fucking coincidence that you chose my boss as your mob accountant.”

Another truth I couldn’t deny. But it still didn’t explain why she didn’t tell me, she only learned about my connections recently, “Did it not occur to you that I had a right to know my own daughter?”

She had the decency to look upset, if only for a moment or two before her expression hardened. “I did consider it, but I was scared.”

“Scared of what?” I asked.

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