Page 121 of Shadows of the Past
Chapter 46
?
Maksim
The next few days are nothing short of chaos as we try to carve out some kind of routine. Officially, I go by Maksim Borisov now because I couldn’t stand to bear that snake’s name any longer. Roman, Niko, and I are working around the clock: folding Ivan’s legitimate businesses into the Borisov conglomerate, sorting through data Akim sends from Russia, and scrambling to free as many victims as we can before they vanish for good.It’s endless paperwork, endless calls, money moving in every direction. But after a few days, we finally have a plan, a place to start. I’ve barely had time to catch my breath when Niko steps out to make a call and Roman gives me a look.
“I could use your help with the more…unofficial side of the family,” he says, and I can’t help but take a step back.
“Who are you and what have you done with Roman, the guy who insists on doing everything himself?” I tease, trying to keep it light.
He shrugs, looking more tired than I’ve ever seen him. “I can’t keep up this pace much longer. Between the legit businesses and the mafia stuff, sometimes I feel like my head’s about to explode. Luna’s worried the hours I’m working aren’t sustainable, so…”
“I’m here for whatever you need, Roman. My top priority is still helping Ivan’s victims, but that’s a long game. Pretty soon,we won’t have lists of kids to save—we’ll have lists of traffickers to hunt down. That’s when your connections will really matter. Just tell me what you need.”
I know it’s not easy for him to let go of control—hell, it wouldn’t be for me either—but I get it. He spends his days signing contracts, approving projects, negotiating with shareholders, and his nights running guns, smuggling art, and God knows what else. No one can keep that up forever without something breaking. Honestly, I’m surprised he’s lasted this long.
After we assign a few more people to key projects, my head is pounding. We call it a day.
My motorcycle is waiting in the company lot, and the ride home is a reminder that I don’t have to hide anymore. I can hold Julia’s hand in public. I can just be myself without worrying about suspicious stares.
At home, Amalia is glued to her monitors, hunting down a bug in her code. I can’t help but smile because she’s got the same stubborn streak as her big sister.
Julia steps out of our little kitchen and wraps her arms around me, her sweet scent flooding my senses. For a moment, I just want to stay like this, fingers tangled in her hair, breathing her in.
When I turn with her toward her younger sister, passed out next to her laptop, I spot Lupe outside, sitting alone on a bench in the yard.
“She has days when she doesn’t say a word,” Julia whispers, and guilt twists in my chest.
Since she arrived, I’ve avoided her completely. Every time I look at Lupe, all I see is Julia on that floor, blood pooling beneath her, and the memory fills me with rage.
“I’ll go talk to her,” I say quietly, catching the worry in Julia’s eyes.
I’m not a man of many words, but I know what betrayal feels like, what it’s like to carry guilt. Maybe we both need this conversation.
My boots crunch over fallen leaves, the faintest hint of vanilla drifting on the evening air as I cross the yard toward Lupe.
I find her sitting on the bench, knees pulled to her chest, staring out at the pine forest. For a few moments, we just breathe in each other's presence, sharing the quiet.
“I thought the hardest part would be getting over him,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. I settle at the other end of the bench, keeping my eyes on her.
“It isn’t?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No. The man who was our father for more than a decade is dead because I wanted attention from the wrong person. Julia almost died, all because I ignored my gut. I knew something about his story didn’t add up…”
I let her talk. Maybe it’s easier with me, someone who isn’t her big sister, someone with whom she can drop the act. She starts listing every detail she missed, every message, every secret meeting, her uncle’s hesitation to let her go, Amalia’s constant worry that he wasn’t who he seemed.
“What hurts most,” she finally whispers, “is that all my memories with him are good ones…” Her voice trails off. “My mind knows what he did, but my heart…my heart remembers the man who brought me white chrysanthemums, my favorite, after I failed an exam. The man who listened to my dreams for hours and made me feel like I mattered.”
I don’t tell her that’s what predators do; they lurk in the shadows, collecting secrets and using them as leverage. She wasjust another pawn in a game she never even knew she was playing.
“I’m not going to tell you it wasn’t your fault,” I say gently, “because pretending it didn’t happen is not an option. You have a good compass, Lupe. When you ignore it, life has a way of correcting you. Julia and I…we’ve both ignored those voices more than once, and we’ll live with those consequences, too.”
“So no matter what I do, I can’t fix this…” Her voice trembles, and for the first time I let myself meet her gaze, those eyes deep and wild as the forest.
“No, you can’t fix the past. But every day, you get a chance to fix something else. Your relationship with your sisters. With yourself. Your plans for the future. Your soul. All of that can be rebuilt if you care enough to try.”
I stand and, for Julia’s sake, rest my hand on Lupe’s shoulder. We’re not friends yet, but we’re family. No matter how badly she messes up, we’ll be here.
