Page 46 of Legacy
My father freezes.
Then he laughs. The fucker laughs.
“You think just because you and that Korsakov kid are friends, he’ll give me what I want?”
I hate his tone. Condescending bastard.
“I know he will,” I lie.
I’ve known Maksim Korsakov since we were kids. Our families don’t see eye to eye, but Maksim got what I want.
A chance to rule.
My old man needs to step down.
He sighs, heavy, dragging a hand down his face as he leans forward.
Disappointment.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” His eyes lock onto mine. “Once you’re in, there’s no going back.”
“I’m ready,” I say without hesitation.
He studies me. Long. Quiet.
“What you and your brother don’t understand,” he finally says, “is that when I look at the two of you… I see her.”
I still.
My mother.
He never talks about her.
“You’d think it’s Elena I see her in the most, but no.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “That girl is all me.”
Bullshit.
Elena is our mother’s mirror.
His eyes settle on mine again, a shadow passing through them.
“Lucia was wild. Free. Righteous. Untethered to this world.”
His voice dips, quiet and distant now.
“Just like you.”
I swallow hard, the burn behind my eyes catching me off guard.
“Your brother… nowhe—he has her eyes. It’s like she plucked them out and gave them to him. All those soft edges, that’s her.”
Of course.
Of course Santo would get the parts he loved.
And I’d be stuck with the parts he couldn’t tame.
He exhales, almost like he’s let something go.
