Her face contorted into a plastic scowl. “You’re 22, not 52,” she said. “You need more excitement and adventure in your life.”
I rubbed my eyes. “What I need right now is some rest—God knows I need it for where I’m going tomorrow.” My voice dropped, and my heart skipped a beat.
Eva noticed the sudden change in my mood. “Where’re you going tomorrow?” she asked, curious.
I hesitated for a while, my jaw tightening as the memories I’d buried for so long came flooding into my mind. “I’m going to see my dad.”
The color drained from her face. “Oh,” she said, her tone barely above a whisper.
“Yeah,” I answered with the same tone. “He’s been sick for a while, and my grandma says he wants to see me.”
She knew my history with the man—how he’d been absent all my life and the void he left in my heart. She knew howmuch I despised him for all the pain he’d caused me over the years. Eva watched me in silence, as if uncertain of what to do or say.
The thought of seeing him again after he abandoned me with my maternal grandmother made my heart ache. I was just a child when he gave me away, and his reason was that I was the cause of his wife’s death.
She died giving birth to me, and the man put all the blame on the innocent baby. He spent decades hating me for something I had no control over. Why did he need me now—he never did before—what changed?
I didn’t want to go at first, but I knew I couldn’t keep avoiding him forever.
As Father of the Year, this man appeared in fragments whenever he felt like—never enough to hold on to. He missed all of my birthdays and every important milestone in my life.
The thought of facing him again after all this time felt like reopening a wound that had never fully healed. I could decide not to go, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. But whether I liked it or not, he was still my father.
Besides, I was curious about why he wanted to see me. I was sure this wasn’t the first time he was sick, so that couldn’t have been the reason.
Why had he chosen now to reach out?
Chapter 4 – Roman
In my line of work, loyalty was non-negotiable, and betrayal was unforgivable.
I sat in my dimly lit office, cradling a glass of vodka. My mind was reeling with the different ways I’d make my uncle’s killer suffer for their actions.
For years, we’d been searching for the man behind Uncle Akim’s murder. At first, we all thought it was an attack from a rival gang. And although that wasn’t completely false, it wasn’t entirely true either.
A powerful man had ordered the hit that took my uncle’s life. He didn’t survive long after—no questions asked. As soon as we learned he was behind the act, we responded immediately. The bastard met his end in a gruesome way, in a fatal accident that caused his car to explode.
He died screaming in agony as his body burned beyond recognition. We made sure he had a taste of hell on earth before rotting in the grave forever. As satisfying as that was, it still wasn’t enough. We only killed the man who pointed the gun, while the one who pulled the trigger still walked free.
Whoever he was, he’d eluded us for years.
The son of a bitch was good at covering his tracks and making us run around like dogs chasing our tails. Other than the fact that he was paid to do a job, we had no idea who he was or how to catch him.
A few of my comrades within the Bratva ranks thought it would be better to just let it go because we already killed the brain behind the attack. But I wasn’t satisfied yet. I wanted to catch the man who had done it.
And now, after all these years, we’d finally found him: my Uncle Akim’s killer. But there was one big problem. Learningthis man’s identity almost broke me because he was the last person I ever thought would do this.
No one ever imagined that our worst enemy was the one closest to us. His name was Mercer, and his betrayal hit me hardest because he was one of the few people who had earned my trust, as well as that of my late uncle.
From the moment I found this out, I’d yet to get a grip on myself. Shock and anger coursed through my veins as I wondered why I let myself be so attached to that son of a bitch. I still found it hard to believe he was capable of being so cold.
I should’ve known better; I should’ve suspected him, given how quickly he left the Bratva around the time of the murder. Why did no one ever consider him a potential suspect?
Mercer’s betrayal cut deeper than I cared to admit, and I wasn’t sure what pissed me off the most. Was it that he turned his back on us, or that I was foolish enough not to see through his acts? This man outsmarted me because I let my guard down around him—because I took him as a brother. Big mistake.
I messed up before, but I wasn’t going to let that happen again. The Bratva had demanded vengeance upon hearing this. But for me, this wasn’t about duty anymore. It was personal, and that’s why I told them to let me handle it.
Mercer had messed with the wrong people, and now, he was about to understand that his actions had consequences. Grave consequences. Pun intended.
