Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“She was your spy handler?”
“Something like that. I knew what she was the moment she picked me up in a bar, but I didn’t care. Your mother was too charming to ignore, even if she was dangerous. I couldn’t keep away. I fell hard for her, harder than I’ve ever fallen, and I still wonder if the feelings were mutual…” He trails off, staring at his drink.
“They must’ve been if I was born,” I say, prodding him to keep going.
“Yes, perhaps. I don’t know. She got pregnant during one of my visits and came back with me to the States. We weren’t married long, but they were good days, very good days.”
“That picture is from Moscow, isn’t it?”
“During my third visit. She got pregnant on the fifth. We had a relationship by that time. I’m sure her superiors at the agency loved it right up until she ditched them to move in with me.”
I stare at the picture, trying to make sense of this. Why would my father sleep with a woman he knew was spying on him? It’s hard to fathom, knowing him now. He’s so closed off and difficult. Nothing’s ever good enough, and God forbid he ever shows emotion. She must’ve been incredible to break through to him.
“Why did she come back?” I ask, my voice shaking slightly.
“I don’t know. Your mother was extremely talented, even back then. I can’t say for certain but I think she was high up in the SVR and likely would have continued her meteoric rise if she hadn’t gotten pregnant.” He looks at his hands and slowly curls his fingers open and shut. “I did what I could for her. I really did. I tried to make her happy. I offered to bring her into the business, but even that wasn’t enough. Motherhood didn’t sit well with her. Nannies didn’t help. They only made her feel worse. And in the end, she left without a word. I tried to find her in the years after, but she was like a ghost.”
“Now she’s Molchanie.” I look up from the picture of my mother’s face. The same face as the assassin in the shop earlier tonight. Only she’s slightly older now. “How did she go from spying for the government to working as a hired killer?”
“I don’t know. I was never sure Molchanie was her, but I had my suspicions over the years. Then when I heard she was back and she was circling around you… I just knew it had to be my Darya.”
“What does she want with me, Papa?”
“I wish I could say.” He leans forward, suddenly fierce as he stares at my face. “How did she look? How did she sound? Did she ask about me?”
I shake my head, startled by his sudden intensity. “We spoke about me. She didn’t mention you at all. I only knew because of this.” I weakly hold up the picture.
He slumps, nodding to himself. “Of course not. I gave her plenty of chances, but she never did reach out. She never wanted to. That’s clear to me now.”
“Papa, I think there’s something wrong with her. She wants me to leave Seamus, and I don’t understand why. She’s killing people. You have to know something… something I can do…”
He shakes his head. “There’s nothing. I’m nothing to her anymore.” He sounds bitter and depressed. “Your mother was always skilled. She was trained by some of the best. She knows a dozen languages. She can fight and kill with ease. I’ve seen her scale walls in seconds. Your mother is formidable.”
Now I understand why I’ve always been a disappointment to him. It sounds like my mother is incredible. She was a highly trained and skilled spy, and she turned into this insanely successful assassin. While I’ve been nothing but a bratva princess following orders and running a clothing boutique.
But something twisted in her. My mother broke somehow over the years. Maybe all that training and all that killing finally snapped something, and she’s lost her mind.
“I’m going to keep this.” I stand, clutching the picture.
He looks slightly panicked. “That’s all I have left of her.”
“I’ll keep it safe, but I need it. I have to know what she looks like. She’s still after me, Papa.”
He slumps, holding up a hand. “I understand.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing you can do? Nothing you can tell me?”
“It’s been a long time, Alina. She hasn’t been in my life since you were a baby. Whatever she is now… she’s not the same woman who left. I’m sorry, but all I can tell you is she’s extremely dangerous. And she’s definitely your mother.”
I leave him alone with his vodka and his memory. My stomach is a twisting, burbling mess. I drop my glass at some point on my way back outside. The picture in my hand feels like it’s burning my skin.