Page 158 of Porcelain Lies

“It is the way of my world, Stella. The weak make way for the strong. My father was weak. When I turned twenty, I had enough. Exiled the bastard. Took control of everything he had. Made it a part of my empire.”

She lays a gentle hand on my cheek. “You were so young.”

“A man grows up fast in the Bratva,” I reply, the hardness creeping back. “There’s no room for weakness.”

She hesitates for a moment. “And your mother? You never found out what happened?”

I shake my head, the familiar ache settling in. “Nyet.She was just… gone.”

Stella cuddles closer, offering warmth without words. It’s strange, this comfort.

“And that’s why you were so close to your sister. Still are?”

“Da,” I say. “She’s always been there. Acts like my mother sometimes. At least tries to.” I shake my head, my smile wry.“The irony is that the one person in the world who dares tell me what to do is just a mere woman.”

“Hey. Don’t underestimate the strength of a woman.” Stella nudges me. I look into her eyes, realizing that there’s an unspoken strength there too.

“You’re right,” I acknowledge. “There is a depth to women that few men can understand. When I saw Olga with Bobik, I could only admire how tireless she was. She never gave up hope for him.”

“Olga… his mother?”

“Yes. She passed recently. Cancer.” I swallow hard as I think of the loss my child has had to face on top of all his challenges. Sometimes the world seems so fucking unfair.

“Oh, that poor kid.” She looks stricken. “Losing a parent is the worst kind of pain. Especially this early.”

We’re both silent for a moment, processing this.

“What happened to him?” she says, breaking the silence. She rests her chin on my chest. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

I pull in a deep breath. I might as well tell her. She’ll find out eventually anyway.

Eventually?

How long do you think she’ll be around, mudak?

I push the thought away. “It was an accident. When he was born. The doctor fucked things up. Damaged his spinal column during delivery.” I grit my teeth. “He was drunk.”

She sucks in a breath. “Oh my God. You mean… he would have been normal if it hadn’t happened?”

My jaw clenches. I nod silently, not trusting myself to speak. The things I want to say about that cunt shouldn’t be said in front of a lady.

“Was there ever any recourse?” she asks. “Were you able to file a malpractice suit or something?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. They denied everything. Remember, this happened in Russia. Facts can just… disappear over there.” Just like humans. I know this more than most.

“That must have been… frustrating,” she says.

“Yes,” I scoff. “You could say that.” I stare up at the ceiling again. “But in my world, there are ways of settling scores.”

She sucks in a breath. “You mean-?”

“It’s not important.” I clear my throat. “What about you? Your family?”

There’s an uncomfortably long pause as I look down at her. She’s pinching her lips together, and I sense that she has secrets of her own to keep.

“You might not believe this, but I’m… well,” she hesitates as if looking for the right words. “I’m actually Russian,” she finishes quickly, as if she’s telling me this against her better judgment.

I shoot a surprised look at her. “Russian?Ty russkiy?”

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