Excellent on all levels.
He had done everything right. And it still hadn’t mattered.
By the time he reached the stairs, one thought finally broke through the fog, sharp and unwanted.
I need to tell Adrik.
And suddenly, December felt very close.
Chapter Thirty-One
Adrik
Seversk, Russia
Adrik dropped his phoneto the bed, heart thudding, every nerve on alert. The house was dark, too quiet, the kind of quiet that made his instincts flare. He slid off the bed, feet hitting the cold floor, and scanned the room for anything he could use as a weapon. The only thing within reach was a heavy ceramic lamp. Fine. It would do.
He moved to the side of the door, breath held, muscles coiled. The knob creaked slowly and deliberately.
The door swung open.
Adrik launched himself forward, slamming the intruder to the ground. The man’s body hit the floor with a crack that echoed through the house.
“Adrik! Get the fuck off me!” his father’s voice barked up at him.
For a split second, Adrik’s breath caught. His father. Here. In his mother’s house. His pulse spiked, but he forced itdown, forced himself to steady. He stared into Viktor’s piercing blue eyes—eyes he’d inherited, unfortunately—while straddling him, pinning him.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Adrik growled.
“I see I trained you well. Now get the fuck off me.”
Adrik slid back, jaw clenched. Viktor sat up, and that’s when Adrik noticed the blood on his cheek—his ring must’ve sliced him. Great. He’d wanted to hit him for years, but not like this.
He reached down anyway, fingers closing around Viktor’s hand, hauling him up. They stood inches apart, too close, far too close. The air between them was suffocating.
He shouldn’t be this close. He shouldn’t be anywhere near me. A cold, familiar dread crawled up his spine—the kind he thought he’d buried years ago.You tried to have me killed, and now you stand here like a father visiting his sick wife.
Viktor broke the silence first. “I’m not here to hurt you, Adrik.” Then, without warning, he pulled him into a hug.
Adrik froze. His arms stayed at his sides. His chest tightened, breath shallow. Viktor smelled the same—cologne, cigarettes, and something metallic underneath. Memory. Violence. Childhood.
“I’m sorry,” Viktor murmured. “Really sorry.”
Adrik shoved him back. “Sorry for what? Fucking my entire life up? Teaching me to hate? Wanting me dead?”
“I’m sorry for putting a hit on you and Sergei.”
Adrik laughed—sharp, humorless. “Too fucking late, Viktor. Your evil has left me damaged.”
Viktor’s jaw twitched. “Why is my son just like his grandfather and less like me?”
“Because he was a man of honesty, respect, and knowledge. Not like you at all.”
“I was wrong about you and Sergei,” Viktor said. “I’m sorry.”
“I hate you. I fucking hate you. Forever.”
“I know you do. Just like your grandfather did.” Viktor sighed, shoulders sagging. “Adrik, you were my only hope for protecting our family.”
