Page 192 of Nine Months to Love
“Exactly. Because you love me. And Stefan loves Olivia.” She finally turns her head to look at me. “Don’t you?”
I don’t answer. The gun is still in my hand, still pressed against her skull. But my finger isn’t on the trigger anymore.
“You do,” Arielle continues. “I can see it. You’re desperate. You’re terrified. You love her and you’ll do anything to get her back.”
“Arielle—”
“The two of you are more alike than either of you knows,” she says, cutting Iakov off. “And babe, he should know. It’s about time you tell him the truth.”
Iakov goes very still. “Arielle.”
“Tell him.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is.”
I lower the gun. Not because I trust Iakov, but because I’m confused as hell. “What truth?”
Iakov doesn’t answer or show any sign that he’s heard me. He just stands there, staring at Arielle like she’s just suggested he set himself on fire.
“Iakov,” I snarl, “what the fuck is she talking about?”
He closes his eyes. Takes a breath. Then opens them again and looks at me. “Wait here.”
He disappears down the hall. I hear footsteps, thumping, drawers opening and closing. Then he comes back down holding a piece of paper. He hands it to me without a word.
I take it. It’s old and yellowed around the edges. The print is faded but still legible. It’s a birth certificate.
Name: Iakov Vasilyevich Safonov.
Mother: Natalia Safonova.
Father: Vasily Safonov.
I read it again. Then again.
No. That… that can’t be right.
“My mother had another baby?” I croak. “No. I would have known.”
Iakov shrugs. “You were young when I was born. And soon after, they handed me over to Mikhail to raise as his own. We left for Russia together.”
It’s real. This is real.
Iakov Zakharov is my brother.
“Why?” I ask as my head spins. “Why would they give you up?”
“Because your father made them.”
I look up sharply. “What?”
“Matvey found out about the affair. He found out Natalia was pregnant. He could have killed her. Could have killed Vasily, too. But instead, he forced them to give me up. To pretend I didn’t exist.”
I think about my father’s journal. The passages I read.She lost her child because of me. How can I ever expect her to forgive me for that?
He wasn’t talking aboutme. He was talking aboutIakov.
