“How?”
“Because I know where they are.”
Twenty-Three
The Present
Aleksander kept his promise.My parents got justice. I got my revenge and a chance to start a new life, oneIgot to choose. And the rest, they say, is beautiful, crazy history.Ourbeautiful, crazy history.
Part Two
HOW WE GOT TO US
Twenty-Four
The Wedding
The soft,lilting strings of the violin quartet play “A Thousand Years,” as couples dance barefoot in the grass while kids chase one another in a game of tag. Tucked in solitude with the sunset in front of me and the sky on fire in a watercolor of orange and red, I watch the festivities, content to just sit and exist in it. Smiling faces. Vibrant laughter. Friendship. Family. Things I’m not a part of, but that’s okay. I’m glad I came, if only for her.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful than Syn is right now. White, long sheath V-neck crepe dress that hugs her curves, little white flowers pinned in her flame-red hair. The happiness she exudes as she slow dances with Tristan. Her love for him on full display as she gazes up at him. A love that I’d gladly sell my soul to the devil just for the chance to experience it.
Tap. Tap. T?—
Dierdre pulls out the chair beside me and takes a seat. With an exhausted sigh, she crosses her legs and picks up the full glass of champagne I haven’t drunk. “It was a beautiful ceremony.”
“It was.”
She takes a sip, hums her approval, then drinks the rest down. “Not exactly legal, though.”
“Love doesn’t abide by society’s laws.”
Dierdre props her elbow on the small round table and rests her chin in her open palm, her pensive gaze focused solely on me and not her adopted daughter, who just married her brother and his two best friends.
“Neither does the heart,” she says, and I hear her not-so-subtle implication loud and clear. Her French-manicured nails beat against the tabletop as quiet seconds tick by. “Thank you for protecting her.”
Surprised by that, I look at her. There’s so much of my half sister that ishim. Her eyes, the color and the shape of them. Her mouth and ears. The mahogany brown of her hair. The slight square-cut of her jaw and the dimple indentations in her cheeks, the same ones Tristan and I have.
“I didn’t.”
Dierdre’s small, elegant hand lands on top of mine. “That’s your perception, but I see it differently. And because it needs to be said, I’m so sorry, Aleksander.”
“For what?”
“For everything.”
I slide my hand from under hers, her apology making me uncomfortable because she has nothing to apologize for.Ishould be tellingherthat. Pyotr held a gun on her on my orders when I went to see Syn in Texas. So much has come to light since then. The fact she’s alive, and the abuse she and Tristan endured under Francesco for decades. Nikolai Stepanoff could be just as cruel, but Francesco was worse. The ugly scars covering Tristan’sback show the brutality he suffered. I always thought he was weak for how he cowed before Francesco. Tristan wasn’t weak. He was trying to survive.
Dierdre’s shoulders rise when she breathes in, her eyes imploring. And sad. “I’d really like the chance to be your sister…if you’ll let me.”
She’s giving me the choice. One I’m not sure I’m ready to take. Years of hate can’t be erased in one day, even if I now know most of it was misplaced. That hate has been ingrained for too long to be able to expunge it so quickly.
“He took so much from us. Don’t let him take our family, too.”
“I had a family,” I snap, my anger a knee-jerk reaction I regret instantly when I see the tears gathering in her eyes.
“You still do,” she softly replies.
I can’t do this right now when my emotions are too raw and too needy. I want the family she’s promising more than I’ve ever wanted anything, besides Syn. But the pain of my twin brother’s loss is still too great. If I let her in, it’s like I’m betraying him.
