Page 54 of Filthy Lies

I shake my head. “Mom, that’s not?—”

“Listen to me.” Her grip tightens with surprising strength. “I’ve spent your entire life protecting you from that world. And here you are anyway, married to a Bratva captain?—”

“Pakhan,” I correct automatically.

She smiles sadly. “See? You’re in it now, whether I wanted that for you or not. And if you’re going to survive, you need to understand all sides of it. Including Grigor’s.”

“Vince thinks it’s too dangerous.”

“Of course he does. Grigor is his enemy.”

“And you think I should just… what? Have a father-daughter reunion? Pretend we’re normal?”

Margaret’s gaze grows distant. “There was nothing normal about Grigor. But he wasn’t evil, Rowan. Despite what Vincent has probably told you.”

“You loved him,” I say softly, remembering our conversation at the hospital.

“With my whole heart. He was…” She sighs. “Complicated. Dangerous, yes. Capable of terrible things. But also capable of surprising tenderness.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because that little girl of yours—” She nods toward the baby monitor where Sofiya’s soft breathing can be heard. “She’s Grigor’s flesh and blood, too. And someday, she might need his protection.”

The thought sends a tremor rumbling through me. “She has Vince.”

“And what if something happens to Vincent, hm?”

I flinch. “Don’t say that.”

“I’m dying, Rowan. I don’t have time for niceties.” She squeezes my hand again. “In this world you’ve chosen, you need all the allies you can get. Even unlikely ones.”

I stand and pace to the window, wrapping my arms around myself. Outside, armed guards patrol the grounds. Beyond them, somewhere in the trees, Grigor’s men wait.

“I wouldn’t even know what to say to him,” I admit.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Margaret’s voice softens. “Just listen. Learn. Understand where you come from.”

I turn back to face her. “You spent my entire life keeping me away from him. Why the change of heart?”

“Because I was trying to keep you out of the Bratva world altogether.” She gestures weakly at our surroundings. “That ship has sailed, sweetheart. Now, I just want you to have every possible advantage in it.”

The intercom beside her bed buzzes. It’s time for her medication.

“Think about it,” she urges as I move to help her with the pills. “That’s all I ask.”

Later, after she’s drifted to sleep, I sit in the rocking chair beside her bed watching her breathe. Each rise and fall of her chest terrifies me, because how can I know when it might be the last?

I think about what she said. About Grigor. About Sofiya potentially needing his protection someday.

The idea alone makes my skin crawl. But haven’t I learned that survival sometimes requires difficult choices? Uncomfortable alliances?

A soft knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts. Vince enters quietly, his eyes immediately assessing Margaret’s sleeping form.

“How is she?” he asks.

“Weaker every hour,” I whisper. “But comfortable, at least.”

He nods, then holds out his hand to me. “Can we talk? In private?”

---