the glue that holds this orphanage together. Yes, I may be behind the money that has helped keep this place afloat over the years, but she has made the orphanage a home for the children and also for me.
God knows she should have thrown me out when I came to her, seeking refuge. But she didn’t. If it weren’t for her, I don’t think I’d be standing here today. She saved me and Willow. And for that, I will be indebted to her for the rest of my life.
“Nice of you to arrive,” she says softly, interrupting me from my thoughts.
“You know I don’t like these sorts of things,” I reply lightly. What I speak of is this fancy event the orphanage has thrown to attract new investors and hopefully potential people who want to adopt.
The orphanage is at full capacity, but Mother Superior would never turn a child away. I give her what I can. A job Pavel organized was able to help with the vital facelift this place needed, but my funds are running low.
In the past, money wasn’t an issue, but now, it is. I live in a shack in the mountains. I tell myself it’s because I want to live off the grid to evade my enemies, but honestly, it’s all I can afford. I was once surrounded by wealth and riches, but now, I barely have five thousand dollars to my name.
My suit, this Rolex, the Cuban cigars, everything I own, it’s all stolen from the men I’ve killed. To play the part of king, one must dress like royalty. I now understand the saying beggars can’t be choosers all too well.
“I know. But you are the reason the orphanage has undergone such changes. You’re the reason these children—”
But I hush her gently. “You are the reason, Mother Superior. I won’t hear of anything else.”
She purses her lips, knowing not to argue.
It pains me that she must throw such an event. I hate that it seems she’s almost groveling to the rich assholes to throw her a fucking bone. I was once rich. I’m still an asshole, but at least I gave to this place without Mother Superior having to beg.
I know what it’s like to be hungry, to be unwanted and have nowhere to call home. If only I had a Mother Superior in my life when I was younger, things may have turned out differently for me. This place is special to me because I can relate to every single child in here.
Clenching my jaw, I realize this is merely temporary. Once I find my half-brother and murder his traitorous ass, the natural order will be restored. Until then, both Mother Superior and I are at the mercy of others.
“Ski! Ski!” screams a lively voice before my leg is ensnared by two small hands.
Peering down, I can’t stop my smile. It feels foreign because it’s genuine. “Why aren’t you in bed?” I playfully scold Irina in Russian.
She responds by poking out her tongue.
Irina has been here for five months. She was left at the orphanage gates with nothing but the rags that hung off her emaciated frame. She was riddled with lice, and so malnourished, the doctors originally thought she was four. Upon further examination, they guessed she was somewhere closer to seven.
Her vocabulary is almost nonexistent, so Mother Superior knows almost nothing about Irina. These circumstances have made Irina one of the unfavorable children among potential adopters. She’s been returned countless times like some dog at a pound by the do-gooders who thought they could “fix” a troubled child. But they soon realized they weren’t cut out for the hard work.
Insufferable quitters.
Irina speaks to no one, bar me. I don’t know why, but the moment we met, she took a shining to me. I dare not tell Mother Superior my theory that I probably remind her of the company her family may have kept.
Regardless of the reason, I don’t care. Seeing her freckled face and blonde pigtails thaws whatever is left of my deadened heart. Just as I’m about to pry her from my leg and give her a hug, a spark of fire unexpectedly tackles me from behind.
I realize where that fire comes from when I hear a soft voice I’ve not heard before. It’s American. “Irina, how did you get away so fast? I’m so sorry, Mother Superior. I thought she was asleep.”
With Irina still attached to my leg, I turn slowly, desperate to seek out the voice of the