Page 95 of Nine Months to Love
“Because she makes you want to be better. You know your voice changes when you speak of her? Stefan, for goodness’ sake, you’re sitting here in the garden at midnight, agonizing over hurting her.” She arches back to give me a careful look. “What does that tell you?”
We play a few more moves. I’m losing, but I don’t care.
“What happened while I was in Russia?” I ask. “With the Bratva, I mean.”
Babushka’s hand pauses over a piece. “That’s ancient history. Why do you ask?”
“I’ve been thinking about it lately. About Vasily. About how things fell apart.”
She moves her rook. “Your uncle kept me at a distance. He said I was too hard on him.”
“You were hard on everyone.”
“True.” She smiles. “But Vasily was particularly sensitive. He didn’t like being questioned.”
“What about his relationship with Mikhail?”
She looks up sharply. “Mikhail?”
“Iakov’s father. They were close, weren’t they?”
“At first, yes. Very close. Closer than Vasily and Matvey ever were. Closer than you and Taras, even.”
“What changed?”
“I don’t know exactly. But toward the end, there was tension. Vasily wouldn’t tell me what it was about.” She moves another piece. “But whatever it was, it ran deep.”
“Deep enough for Mikhail to turn on him?”
“I don’t think Mikhail turned on anyone. He was loyal to the end.” She pauses. “He was a good man, Stefushka. Whatever you think of him.”
“He was a fucking traitor,” I snarl. “Just like Vasily.”
“It’s not always quite that simple, my boy.”
I sit back, processing what she’s saying. Mikhail and Vasily. Brothers in everything but blood. Until something drove them apart.
And then Mikhail killed himself rather than face what I would do to him.
Or did he? What if my mother got to him first? What if she convinced him to take his own life to protect someone? His son, maybe?
The pieces are starting to fit together, but I’m still missing the full picture.
“Check,” Babushka says.
I look down at the board. My king is cornered.
“You weren’t paying attention,” she chides.
“I was thinking.”
“Thinking will not save your king.” She moves her queen. “Checkmate.”
I study the board. She’s right. There’s no way out.
“I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself,” she offers with a wry grin.
“No. I need to make some calls.”
