Page 117 of Shadows of the Past
I want to laugh, but the constant pain in my stomach reminds me I’ll tear my stitches if I do.
“You have no idea how many. Some hurt physically, some emotionally. Some hurt people I love.”
Two gray eyes flash in my mind. I’ve made plenty of mistakes, but making him feel like he wasn’t my first choice…that was the worst of all.
I look at Lupe, and she seems a little calmer now. That’s my only comfort: that she’ll move forward without that man’s poison inside her, that this will be a brick in the foundation of her growing up, learning not to trust just anyone.
“Are you going to kill him?” she asks, and I try to gauge how much my answer will hurt her.
“Yes.”
She just nods, her lower lip trembling.
I could erase Aleksandr from the face of the earth, but I’ll never be able to wipe him from her memory. For her, he wasn’t the monster from my nightmares, he was the prince who made her feel special.
“One day, it won’t hurt this much,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
When this is over, when Aleksandr is finally gone, maybe we can go home and start to heal what’s left of our broken souls.
Maksim is leaning against the outer wall but straightens the moment he sees me.
“You okay?” he asks.
“No. How do you heal a soul that’s been shattered?” My voice barely makes it out.
He just holds me for a moment then cups my cheeks in his hands and murmurs, “It’ll heal on its own, when it’s ready. That’s what happened to me after you came into my life.”
I breathe him in—cedar and rain-soaked forest. There’s one more stop before we can finally close this chapter.
“Ready?” Roman’s voice comes from behind us.
We’ve been ready for this for years, but it still feels unreal to finally stand here.
The warehouse door groans open. In the center, suspended by ropes, Aleksandr dangles with only his toes brushing the concrete. His eyes find us, cold and venomous, and I’m amazed none of us flinch.
“You’re still alive?! Why won’t you just die already?” he screams, voice raw with desperation.
I freeze. Maksim’s hand finds mine, and I squeeze it, grounding myself. I won’t let Aleksandr’s words get to me, not after all the times he’s tried to reduce me to nothing, calling me a whore, a piece of meat, or a bug under Max’s boot.
Sweat beads on Aleksandr’s forehead, and bruises bloom across his ribs and stomach. And he still has the energy to spit his venom.
“And look, the great heir himself! What did you have to do to the old man to get him out of the way? Let him spend another night in your bed?”
Before I can even process his words, Roman steps forward, a bat in his hand, and swings it into Aleksandr’s side. The sound echoes, brutal and final.
“I SEE YOU HAVEN’T LOST YOUR SPIRIT THIS WEEK. THAT’S FINE. I SWEAR YOU’LL BEG EVERY SAINT FOR MERCY, AND WHEN YOUR SOUL IS ABOUT TO LEAVE, I’LL DRAG IT BACK JUST TO BREAK IT ALL OVER AGAIN!”
Roman’s voice is a storm, his eyes blazing. This isn’t the CEO in the tailored Hugo Boss suit, the man who opens hotels and donates fortunes to charity. This is the Russian mafia boss, the furious older brother.
“ROMAN!” Maksim’s voice booms through the warehouse.
I don’t know what silent message passes between the twins, but Roman steps back, settling near the exit, arms folded.
“You knew?” Maksim asks Aleksandr, his voice low and dangerous.
The snake just shifts on his ropes, balancing on his toes. “That he abused you? Spare me. We all knew. Your screams echoed across the estate those first nights.” He spits at Maksim’s feet.
Maksim circles him, and I hate the look in his eyes, the way he seems lost in old memories. I want to pull him back, to assure him that those nightmares are over, that he’s here, he survived.
