“Leave it.” I order Vas. He looks down at me in surprise before nodding his head submissively and stepping back. This is my fight.
“I grew up in a house filled with riches,” I admit coldly. “A place I believed was my home. Raised by a man I thought was my father. A man who beat me and makes me watched as he killed those who were disloyal to him. He ruled through fear. Not with loyalty and compassion. He stole me and called himself my father for years. Locked me in a small cupboard of a room for days with no food or water. Only letting me out when he thought I was about to die.
“And trust me, there were many times I wish I had,” I sneer. “I finally managed to run away and when he caught me, he had my best friend raped in front of my eyes for assisting me. He sold me to Matthias as collateral so his precious son would survive. Should I keep going? Most of you know the rest. Will my word suffice, or should I show you my scars, Malich?”
Now he looks downright contrite and mildly fearful.
“We all have stories to tell that would give even the darkest soul nightmares.” My gaze leaves Malich to draw over the crowd. “But the most important story you must tell is your future. The past is gone. Don’t forget it, but don’t let it drown you. You can’t control it any more than you can control the weather. But what you can control,” I pause. The dramatics heighten the moment. What can I say? I’m a sucker for theater. “Is your future. You determine who you are and who you want to be.
“You decide where you want to go from here. No one else controls what lies ahead.”
Silence falls over the courtyard; the only sound is the mild shuffling of the bodies who can’t remain still and the wind singing through the trees. This is a moment for them. A moment they need with the battle looming on the horizon. The faces before me have still been living in the past and they’ve let it dictate where they are going.
The past is just a guide to a better tomorrow. We accept it shapes us and the moment we realize it has no control over us is the moment we are free. We all have two lives. The second one begins the moment we realize we only have one.
Or so Confucius said.
He seems legit; I’ll take it. Better advice than a fortune cookie if you ask me.
“Let’s go everyone,” Roman whistles. “Back to training. ThePakhanis very busy, and we have more drills to run.”
With a low groan the students file back to their original positions, some of them waving at me as they go. Compassion and kindness breed better loyalty than fear could ever hope to.
“Ma’am,” Amika looks over at me with a hopeful expression in her obsidian eyes. “Will you…” she bites her lip, a slight blush sweeping across her cheeks. “Will you train with us tomorrow?”
“ThePakhanhas better things to do than—” I cut Roman off with a wave of my hand.
“I look forward to it.”
Amika’s broad smile is all I need to know that I make the right decision.
Loyalty is earned and not demanded.
Built and not forced.
I won’t let them sacrifice their lives for mine like Matthias.
No.
My life will be laid down first.
But not before I paint the streets with blood and burn the city to the ground.
Hades and hell aren’t ready for me yet.
fifty-one
“The London Bratva is hemorrhaging money,” Mark’s voice drones over the video chat. He is briefing Ivan on everything we have learned so far. I search through the new images Mark has sent over. My brilliant wife managed to break Libby’s code and obtain at least a terabyte of new information we never had before. We’ve been in London nearly two weeks and we still aren’t any closer to bringing Kirill down.
I frown. Thoughts of Kenzi pop into my mind. We left her with Leon at the airport, but that was the last thing I wanted to do. Kenzi can easily take care of herself. The training the Dollhouse provided her with was extensive. I am worried she will be blindsided by her relationship with her brother. Afraid she won’t see the killing blow coming because she underestimated him.
Libby had been the gentlest and sweetest girl I had ever known. Vas fell head over heels with her kindness and love for others and Christian killed her for her perceived betrayal. She stood in the way of what he wanted.
Ava.
“What’s that?” Ivan leans forward for a better look at whatever Mark is showing him. “Her cane, can you zoom in on it?” Mark snorts.
“Can I zoom in on it?” He mocks Ivan. There is still salt in the wound I see. “Of course, I can zoom in on it. An ape can zoom in on this.” He pauses, his eyes flitting to Ivan. “Well, most apes.” If my brother catches the insult he doesn’t respond, too focused on the photo in front of him.
