drinking, and he gets in trouble with the police all the time. Fights he can’t win.”
“Your father is a mess,” he says, and even though I’m sad that he’s right, the tiniest smile pulls at my lips.
“You’re telling me.”
“What about your mother? I looked into her and couldn’t find very much information.”
Ignoring the fact that he’s researched me and looked into my family history, I say, “She died when I was a lot younger. Cancer. She asked me to stop coming at one point because she didn’t want me to see how sick she was.”
I feel my throat grow dry and tighten up, and I look away, trying not to let the emotions overtake me. I can’t get into this right now. This appointment is about Nikolas, not what happened to me when I was younger. It’s not the Victoria Elwood Self-Pity Hour.
Matvei shakes his head disgustedly. “I’ve always hated that. People trying to protect you from the shittiness of the world. The world is ugly. There’s no point in hiding that. I’d rather face that up-front than have someone lead me to believe it’s a utopia.”
I don’t think I’ve ever heard so much honesty from Matvei before—or so much of anything at all, really. When he realizes how open he’s being, he looks away, knee bouncing impatiently. It’s a simple act, but I can’t help but feel closer to him than I’ve ever been.
The Matvei I knew the first night I sacrificed myself to work for him would never have opened up to me about his mother’s battle with drugs or his outlook on the world. He would’ve put me in my place or made it clear that I wasn’t his friend.
But I’ve felt the shift. Ever since that—gulp—shall we call it the “encounter” here in this very hospital. He’s not the same coldhearted, emotionless man that he was weeks ago. I don’t know if that comforts me or scares me.
It’s been easy to hate him. He’s made it easy. After all, he is holding me hostage and threatening to kill my dad every other day. Before, I wouldn’t have hesitated to say that I loathed the very ground he walked on.
But over the past few days, he’s been kinder. Just yesterday, when he touched my hand to help with the bandages, I felt a spark that I never would’ve thought possible.
I know he’s still a monster. I’ve seen him do too much horrible shit to ever think otherwise.
But even monsters have hearts, right?
The logical part of me says to hate him.
The weaker part of me wants to see how much more he’ll reveal.
When we make it back home from our checkups, someone is waiting in the foyer.
Dad.
I feel my heart stop. Immediately, I think about the last time I saw him.
He’d been beaten and tied to a chair, forced to play a sick, twisted game that could’ve killed him. And the man that did it is the one that I let fuck me like he owned me. The man that part of me desperately wants to submit to again.
“Dad?” I say in surprise. I turn to Matvei, expecting him to be glaring at me. This must just be more punishment, probably for letting Nikolas burn himself in the kitchen while he was unattended.
Only, Matvei isn’t staring at me with murder in his eyes like I thought he would be.
“I’m going to take him upstairs,” Matvei says simply. Nikolas follows his uncle upstairs, quietly talking about how his doctor told him he should treat his burn.
None of this makes sense. Dad would never show up to this nightmare mansion, and Matvei would never let him come by without a reason.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, throwing myself into his arms. He looks good, like he’s recovered from his wounds.
“I wanted to see you, Vic,” he says, cupping my face in his hands. Almost immediately, it’s like I’m Nikolas’s age again, about to cry because I’ve missed my dad so much.
I can’t break down, though. I don’t know how much time we’ll be allowed to spend together, and I don’t want to waste it by sobbing in his arms.
“How did you—”
“I called one of Morozov’s men. They got me in touch with him, and he said I could stop by.”
“He did?” That doesn’t sound like Matvei at all. Two weeks ago, he would’ve laughed at Dad’s request and probably sent someone over to his house to break his kneecaps or something.
“Listen, can we talk somewhere a little more private?”