I strode to the mirror hanging on the wall and stared at my reflection. My black hair ran down over my shoulders, my skin was marked with scars and marks. Then I looked to my face and I remembered what Luka had said. I had a twin. Anri. We looked exactly alike.
Then I looked to my left cheek and the three moles beside my eye. One, two, three. One, two, three, the little girl’s voice sounded in my head. I could almost feel her little finger tapping at my skin.
A sister. My sister. Dark eyes and dark hair, clutched in my arms.
My heart sped up as I tried to remember more. But nothing else came. That was all I had to give, for the moment.
Going to the bed, I removed my hooded sweatshirt and climbed under the comforter. I closed my eyes, Luka’s words echoing in my head: he killed them all. Massacred your family … right in front of your eyes …
And my name … Kostava. You are Zaal Kostava from Tbilisi, Georgia. You and Anri were the heirs of the Kostava clan, a Mafia family …
Chapter Fourteen
Talia
My strength drained as Zaal walked out of the living room and up the stairs to our bedroom. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Our bedroom, I emphasized in my head. Because that’s how it was for me now. It may have only been weeks, but it was weeks of days full of just him and I. I’d taught him about life. I’d showed him the sun, but he’d shown me true freedom. He’d shown me what it was to feel wanted, needed, vital to someone else’s happiness.
A deep sigh sounded behind me. I knew I had to face Luka and Kisa. Luka’s face was stone when he’d seen me be affectionate with Zaal. I hadn’t told Luka he’d changed. I had lied to my brother repeatedly when he’d called in to check on Zaal’s progress.
And I’d done it on purpose. I’d wanted Zaal to myself. Just for once, I’d wanted to have something that wasn’t Bratva owned.
Zaal was mine.
In this house he wasn’t a Kostava. I wasn’t a Tolstaia. We just were.
Inhaling a long breath, I slowly turned to see Kisa and Luka staring at me. Luka’s expression was stern, but Kisa’s was sympathetic.
Silently, I moved toward them, then sat back in the large sofa cushions. Luka’s gaze was cold. Shaking my head, I said, “Just get it over with, Luka. You’re disappointed in me. You think I’ve lost my fucking mind.”
I caught Luka shift on his seat in my peripheral vision. “I am pissed, Talia,” he said. I raised my eyebrow at how much he sounded like my father. Betrayal of my family now ran through my blood—I got it. I went against the golden rule—never betray the family.
Then Luka added, “But not because you’re with him. But because you led me to believe he was unchanged. I’ve been going crazy, believing that he was gone in the head with whatever fucked-up drug they’ve pumped in his veins for twenty years. For weeks I’ve been preparing to come back here and kill him, because I thought it was better than leaving him living as Jakhua’s monster. I owed Anri that much. His brother would be better off dead than alive, as nothing but a mindless killer.”
I swallowed at Luka’s answer. Kisa cast me a smile as Luka threaded his hand through hers. I instantly felt guilty, my readiness to argue with my brother vanishing to dust.
I ran my hands down my face and groaned. “I just wanted him to myself, Luka. He was weak and so lost. In fact, I thought he’d died. I’d been watching him on the surveillance footage and could see his gradual change. He was first feral, then weak, then nothing. I thought the cold-turkey drug detox had been too much too soon. But then I went down to see him. I don’t know, so he wouldn’t be alone, I guess. The change in him, God, it was night and day. On the drugs he was an animal, attacking the guards left, right, and center, pacing the same patch of floor like a pit bull. But when the drugs were gone, he stayed slumped against the wall, his sad green eyes staring at nothing. He was so broken, so lonely and lost…” I cleared my throat, remembering him bound, dirty, and matted, in chains.
“I couldn’t leave him.” I flickered my gaze to my brother and Kisa, then added, “And then he responded to me. He trusted me, and we’ve grown close.” A smile curled on my lips. “He’s beautiful. Inside and out.”
“Oh, Talia,” Kisa said softly. I met the eyes of my best friend. “You love him,” she said. My lips parted to argue the case. But as a pair of jade green eyes drifted through my mind I couldn’t … I couldn’t deny Zaal, couldn’t deny the impact he’d had on me.
Kisa rose from her seat and came to take me in her arms. I hugged her back, but as she pulled away I could see concern all over her beautiful face. “You don’t approve?” I asked. Kisa held my hand.
She shook her head. “Talia, I’m not one to judge. I loved your brother my whole life. You know this. But through grief and duty to the Bratva, to my papa, I was claimed by Alik Durov.” Her eyes fell and she shook her head. “But Talia, you know that my father and your father won’t accept your being with a Kostava. Under any circumstance.”
I glanced to Luka, who was watching us. “Luka?” I asked. He ran his hand down his face.
“Kisa’s right. They won’t accept it. He’s not Russian. He’s Georgian. Worse still, his family murdered one of our own.”
Devastation cut through me. I lowered my eyes. “So you’re saying all I have with Zaal are the next few weeks until I have to return home?” Neither of them said anything in response. But it told me everything I’d asked. To them my situation was hopeless.
But quite frankly, I didn’t give a shit what anyone had to say.
Standing, too consumed with concern for Zaal, I decided to go to bed. I refused to accept that I had limited days with Zaal, but if somehow I lost the fight to keep him in my life, I wasn’t going to waste a single second.
I released Kisa’s hand. She got to her feet. “Talia,” she called after me, sympathy for my situation lacing her voice.
“It’s okay, Kisa,” I said in comfort, throwing her a smile. “I’ll be fine. Because what other choice is there? We’re Bratva women, stern Russians who brush anything off. I’ll work it out. I always do.”
Kisa’s eyes closed and opened only to showcase the pain she felt for me. I glanced to Luka, who had his hands in his hair. “You’re just lucky you found your soul mate at birth.” Kisa’s eyes sought out her husband and that love, that breathtaking connection they shared pulsed between them. “And that when he was lost, he returned to you.” My stomach gripped in envy and I added, “Where for me? Because I’ve fallen for the enemy, I get to cherish him, hold him, then am expected to let him go all because the great Volkov powers that be don’t approve. Question is, how the fuck do you live knowing the person meant solely for you is still out there living and breathing without you by their side?”
Luka got to his feet and I stilled. Since he’d returned, Luka had made no attempt to hold me. He’d never showed any emotion toward me. I watched him approach. Kisa stepped back, a floored expression on her face.
Warily, Luka stood before me, rocking uneasily on his feet. Shock filled my veins as his big arms lifted. Unable to hold back my gasp, Luka wrapped them around me and brought me to his chest.