Page 59 of Merciless Union
Her question surprises me. “Because I wanted to.”
She flicks her eyes toward me before settling them back on the canvas. “Why, though? You made a point of wanting to avoid that kind of intimacy between us.”
I sigh, shifting in my seat again. “Maybe I just felt like it was time for a change. You said you’d always be loyal to me, and I guess it just spurred something within me. At that moment … I knew I had to kiss you.” I lower my voice to a gravelly tone. “And I’m glad I did.”
“Yeah?” she whispers, not looking at me as she starts to paint.
“Best fucking kiss of my life.”
I can see her gulp from where I sit. Even her hand shakes for a moment before she catches herself and resumes painting.
“Will we, uh, ever kiss again?” she hesitantly asks.
“That’s up to you. I got the sense you wanted space from me.”
She frowns. “And I got the sense you didn’t want to get too attached to me.”
“Then I guess we’re at a standstill.”
“I guess so.”
We’re both silent as she works. I like watching her. It’s clear she loves what she’s doing. I’ve never had any kind of passion like that—I’ve only felt dedication toward my expected role as leader of the Bratva. I wonder what it’s like to care about something so deeply as she does her painting.
“You know,” Arina says, finally breaking the silence, “I never thought we’d have something in common.”
“And what do we have in common?”
She pauses, looking at me. “We’ve both lost a parent.” She resumes painting.
“Well, I’m sure it was more upsetting for you than it was for me.” Flashes of my father’s fists run through my mind.
“Did you mean it? That your father used to beat you? I remember you mentioning it during an argument once.”
“I prefer to keep those parts of my past to myself.” My voice comes out harsher than I intend.
She flinches. “Ok, then.”
I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face. “It’s just … I don’t like to talk about the past. It makes me seem weak.”
“If your father hurt you, and you were just a child, that doesn’t make you weak.”
“I couldn’t stop it. Not until I was big enough. So, tell me, does being unable to stop your father from hitting you make you strong? Because I don’t think so.”
“Maxim, I think you’re looking at it all wrong.” Her wrist moves in a smooth motion across the canvas.
“How so?”
“You were a child. He was much bigger. No one would ever expect you to be able to stand up to him. But the minute you were strong enough, you did. And Kira mentioned that you spared her from a lot of the abuse. It seems to me that you were more of a father to your siblings than your father was. That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you strong.” She smiles at me. “It makes you a provider. It … makes you a good man. To your siblings at least.”
My lips quirk. “To my siblings for sure. Though, Alexei would beg to differ. And Elena is too close in age to me ever to see me as a father figure. But you’re right about Kira. She was so tiny and young. I knew I had to save her from everything.”
“And you did. Kira has been so kind to me since we met. Frankly, she was the first ever to make me feel at home in this new family. It’s probably because of how you protected her that she’s able to show kindness.” She points her brush at me. “You did that. If that makes you weak, I don’t know what makes a person strong.”
Her words stay with me. My father always instilled in me the definition of strength and weakness. But maybe he was wrong about all of it.
“And you? How are you holding up with your mother being gone?”
She pauses. “I still feel like she’s going to call me at any moment. I keep waiting for her to do so. I’m still in pain. But I know, with time, the pain of missing her will ease. I just can’t wait for that day to come.”
