“That’s not what people do at offices. You print papers and attend meetings. So go print some papers, and maybe we canmeet later when you’re done being a normal person with a normal job.”
I scoff but play along because it seems important to him. “Fine. I’m going to the office to do some very important printing and filing. I don’t know when I’ll be back, and I probably won’t answer my phone during business hours.”
“Jesus Christ, okay. Close enough.”
Kelly eyes me as I dress, biting his lip and holding onto Clover. “Just please don’t break into any more vet clinics if you get hurt. Actually, no, don’t get hurt at all. Wait, you’re going to the office, and people don’t get hurt at offices, so please just go have a boring, normal day, okay?”
If pretending what I do is normal office work makes him feel better, then I’ll pretend for him. I hum and pocket my phone, walk over to him, scratch Clover between the ears, and then kiss him on his perfect lips.
I look at him right before I leave, and something cracks open inside me.
My stomach churns thinking about all the times I forced myself to fuck women, knowing everything about it felt wrong. I wanted to skin myself alive after. The disgust was so overwhelming that the aftermath became routine. I’d shower immediately, scrubbing my skin until it was raw and red, like I could wash away what I’d done.
Once was never enough. I’d go back in. Three times minimum, water scalding, soap burning into the raw patches. Still felt filthy. When I looked in the mirror, all I saw was a coward staring back, someone pretending to be something he wasn’t.
I’ve been suffocating since I realized I wanted men. Kept telling myself it was just a phase, something that would pass if I tried hard enough. It didn’t work. Just hollowed me outuntil I was a shell walking around pretending to be alive while everything real about me rotted inside.
I had good reason to keep pretending.
Part of me hoped death would catch up eventually, that one of those high-risk jobs I volunteered for would finally work. The ones nobody else wanted because the odds of walking out alive were zero. Would have been easier than going back to my world and listening to my father, every underboss who’s sat at our table, everyone I work with talk about how disgusting it is when men fuck men. A disease. Something that needs to be eliminated. Hearing that over and over while knowing that’s what I am.
I can’t go back to that. Not after having him. There’s no disgust now. No need to shower until my skin bleeds. No drowning in shame every time I look at myself.
All I feel is whole.
I pushopen the black door to the house I grew up in. My boots click against the marble floor as I walk in. The place is huge and cold, decorated exactly how my mother likes it with dark floors and gold accents everywhere.
Nothing’s changed since we moved here from Russia when I was a kid. We live about an hour outside the city on our own land, fenced in and guarded constantly. It started as just our parents’ house, but once we got older, Father had houses put up for each of us. Daniil and Mikhail refused and chose to stay in the city instead, living in that apartment together because those two can’t do anything the normal way. The house feels more like a crypt than a home sometimes. Black walls, dark everything with no warmth anywhere.
“Alexei.”
My mother, Lina, stands in the hallway with long black hair braided down her back, those bright blue eyes locked on mine. She looks so much like Mikhail and Yulian, it’s almost eerie. Lev and I got our father’s brown eyes and his face structure.
I walk over to her, and she pats my cheek with more force than necessary.
“How mad is he?” I ask.
She scoffs. “I don’t know what the three of you were thinking. Why didn’t you just go to him? You got shot. You could have died.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m fine.”
She smacks my shoulder hard. “That doesn’t make it better. You and your brothers are trying to kill me from high blood pressure. Why can’t any of you just stay out of trouble? And you’re the only one stubborn enough to refuse guards. Your brothers at least accept protection when they need it.”
I don’t need anyone following me around. I can protect myself, and I can’t have anyone discovering Kelly. Having guards means questions, reports back to my father, eyes on every move I make. They’d find out about the veterinary clinic, about him. Then everything would be over.
I’m protecting my secret by putting myself at risk.
She tsks when I don’t give her an answer, then gestures with her head for me to follow. I walk after her through the house. Our guards nod as we pass them.
She brings us to the dining hall with its massive black table sitting in the middle and chairs arranged around it.
My father, Roman, sits at the head of the table, eyes down on a tablet. Dark hair gone mostly gray now, tinted glasses on for the migraines. The black onyx crest ring catches the light when he moves his hand.
Lev, Yulian, Mikhail, and Daniil stand by the windows in a loose circle. They stop talking the moment they see me. Every one of them looks tense.
My father looks up and gestures to the chairs. “Sit. The chefs made stroganoff. We’ll eat, and then we’ll discuss what happened.”
Chairs scrape against marble as we sit at the same time.
