Page 95 of The Last Hope

“I didn’t want to disturb you…” I said hesitantly.

“You’re not. Come,” she repeated, and this time, I took a seat.

“I was looking for Nikolai,” I said, feeling the need to justify myself, as if I no longer had the right to move freely around the house, as if I were the one responsible for Roman’s disappearance.

“They’re upstairs with Grigori, trying to negotiate with the Italians. We have good relations with Capo Conti—he might be able to help us,” she said, taking a deep breath.

“When I married Grigori, I didn’t know he had such young brothers, that they would need to be raised, educated. Everyone thought I would struggle the most with Sasha because of his cold, distant nature, and especially his illness, but they were wrong. The hardest one to deal with was Roman. Nikolai and Sasha had known their mother, they were grieving her. But Roman was too young. He hadn’t really known his mother—he probably didn’t even remember her. He needed a mother, and I was not one,” she said, lifting her gaze to the sea.

“When I arrived, he wouldn’t talk to me. He avoided me. While Sasha resented me because he feared I would replace his mother, Roman was simply afraid of me. And I didn’t know how to reach him, how to get close to him. Until that fateful day,” she grimaced, tightening her grip on the figurine.

“Grigori was shot. Three bullets. The doctors said his condition was critical, that there was a strong chance he wouldn’t survive.”

I couldn’t even imagine the terror she must have felt in that moment. I saw every day how much they loved each other—it must have shattered her.

“His uncles arrived even before the doctors could give a proper diagnosis, like vultures, ready to claim their share of my husband’s downfall. That’s when I heard her—Filippa Ivanov, the wife of Grigori’s great-uncle. She had cornered Roman, my baby, barely five years old, in a hallway. Do you know what she was saying to him ?”

I didn’t answer, feeling only a rising anger at the thought of a little Roman being mistreated by an adult.

“She told him his turn would come after his brothers. That we would all die one by one. I saw him trembling, his big brown eyes wide with fear, his tiny fists clenched. I was on that bitch before I even realized what I was doing. I remember shoving her into Roman’s room, locking the door behind me, leaving a terrified Roman outside with Velma. This,” she held up the figurine, “was sitting on Roman’s dresser. A gift from his mother.”

Her voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. “I hit her. Over and over. I hit her until she stopped moving, stopped pleading, stopped screaming. Until she stopped breathing. I beat her to death.”

Her cold, dark eyes locked onto mine, and despite myself, I shivered.

“What do you call a person who is willing to kill for their child ?” she murmured over the sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs below.

I responded with the only answer that made sense. “A mother.”

“A mother,” she repeated, swallowing hard, her eyes glistening. “You must be wondering why I kept this. You probably think I’m some kind of psychopath,” she said with a small smile, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

“Believe it or not, I actually told Velma to throw it away. And I thought she had, for twelve years. Until the day I made a mistake. A mistake that almost cost Sasha and Roman their lives. I was at my lowest. I felt so guilty that I started having dark thoughts,” she said, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

Seeing Elif—normally so confident, so powerful—curled up like this broke my heart.

“I can’t afford to make mistakes, Selina, do you understand ? Hundreds of lives depend on the decisions made in this house. But most of all, our lives depend on them. I can’t afford to make mistakes,” she repeated, and for the first time, I truly grasped the weight she carried. A weight I could never imagine bearing—and she had done so since she was just a young woman.

“At my lowest point, Roman came to this very terrace with a box. He handed it to me, and when I opened it, this figurine was inside. He had retrieved it from the trash after Velma threw it away. Can you believe that ? He was only five years old, Selina.”

And that’s when the first tear fell. The first tear I had ever seen Elif Ivanov shed.

“He told me he kept it so he wouldn’t forget. So he wouldn’t forget what a mother was. So he wouldn’t forget who his mother was,” her voice broke as a sob escaped her.

“Oh, Elif,” I whispered, pulling her into my arms as she sobbed harder.

“I can’t do this, Selina. I can’t live if something happens to him.”

“Nothing will happen to him, Elif. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from living with you all, it’s that nothing can happen to you as long as you stand together. His brothers will find him, Elif. I know they will. But for that, you have to stand up. You are the reason they are so strong. You are their pillar.”

“She’s right,” a voice suddenly said behind us.

When I turned, I saw a woman about Elif’s age. Despite her hastily thrown-on clothes, she was stunning, her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. Her blue eyes scanned me briefly before landing on Elif.

“Oh,moyasestra, (my sister)” the woman said, stepping forward as Elif began sobbing harder.

“Maria,” she choked out.

They embraced tightly, and just from looking at them, I knew they had known each other for a long time.

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