Mafia King’s Bride

29. Ana

TWENTY-NINE

ANA

Well, here I am, standing outside the house where I grew up, feeling like I’m about to walk into a minefield.

The door swings open before I can chicken out, and suddenly, I’m surrounded by Papa’s minions—I mean, associates . God, I’d forgotten how creepy it is when they all stare at you.

Maria, our housekeeper—and let’s be real, probably the only sane person in this place—gives me a sympathetic smile. “He’s in his study, Miss Ana.”

Great. Papa’s lair. Where dreams go to die and organized crime goes to thrive.

I take a deep breath, straighten my shoulders, and march toward certain doom. Okay, maybe I’m being dramatic, but after months of radio silence, what else am I supposed to think? If it weren’t for Viktor practically begging me to come, I’d be home binging Netflix and pretending I don’t have a family.

I knock twice, push open the door, and there he is—Nikolai Petrov, criminal mastermind and emotionally unavailable father extraordinaire, typing away on his laptop like he’s just another CEO and not the boogeyman of the underworld.

“ Dochka ,” he says, arms open wide like we’re in some Hallmark movie. “How are you?”

How am I? Oh, you know, just peachy. Got married off like a prized cow, haven’t heard from you in months, but hey, who’s keeping track?

Instead of saying any of that, I plant myself in the chair across from him and cross my arms. “Why did you send for me, Papa? After all this time?”

Damn it, my voice cracks. So much for my ice queen routine.

He has the decency to look ashamed, at least. “I’m sorry,” he says, and for a second, he actually sounds sincere. “I needed to make some things right before we could meet again.”

I can’t help it, I scoff. “Make things right? I don’t see that anything’s changed since you pawned me off to Dmitri like a bad poker debt. So, what’s your grand plan?”

He comes around the desk, perching on the edge like he’s about to deliver a pep talk. “Petrov men have always been proud, Ana,” he starts, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Here we go.

“I let that pride get the better of me. I couldn’t see that I was hurting you, my own child, even when Daria and Viktor pointed it out. I have no excuse. I’m just hoping you can forgive this old man for putting his ego before the only thing that truly matters.”

And just like that, the dam breaks. Tears start flowing, and I hate myself for it. I hate that even after everything, his words still have this effect on me.

“What changed?” I manage to choke out.

He takes my hand, and it’s so achingly familiar that, for a moment, I’m that little girl again, looking up at her dad like he hung the moon. “Would you believe me if I said there was nothing behind it? That I woke up one day and realized I might lose my child forever?”

I want to believe him. God, I want to so badly. “I guess,” I mumble. “But on mom’s anniversary, you never showed.”

He shakes his head, looking pained. “I did come. I saw you there, at her grave. I couldn’t face you then. I’m so sorry, dochka . Your father failed you, and I’m regretting it every minute of every day.”

And just like that, my resolve crumbles. I might have Dmitri, Yelena, and Viktor now, but this man in front of me? He’s been my rock for most of my life. How can I shut him out completely?

“It’s okay,” I sigh, feeling the weight of months of anger start to lift. “I don’t...I can’t hate you. You’re my father, after all. I was hurt, and I still don’t like this whole lifestyle, but...I love you.”

Next thing I know, I’m wrapped in a bear hug, sobbing into his shoulder like I’m five years old again.

“There, there,” he murmurs, patting my back awkwardly. Always the emotional genius, my Papa. “What can I do to make it better? Shopping, perhaps? I’ll pay for whatever you want.”

I almost say no, but then I think of Yelena. If anyone deserves a shopping spree, it’s the two of us. “Alright,” I agree. “It’s a start.”

An hour later, I’m watching Yelena’s eyes nearly pop out of her head as I wave Papa’s credit card in her face. “This is the best day of my life!” she squeals, dragging me into Christian Dior like she’s on a mission.

As we browse through outrageously priced dresses, Yelena gives me a sidelong glance. “So, you made up with your dad? No more freezing you out?”

I snort. “I’m still pissed. Months of silence aren’t fixed by one teary conversation and a blank check. But it’s something.”

She squeezes my hand. “Well, let’s focus on the now. We’re here for therapy. Retail therapy!”

We spend the next hour trying on ridiculous gowns, giggling like schoolgirls, and generally making nuisances of ourselves. By the time we’re done, I’ve swiped Papa’s card for an amount that makes me wince, but hey, he offered, right?

As we’re settling in at Palomar for a post-shopping feast, Yelena brings it up again. “You know, it’s a little weird that your dad bribed you with a shopping spree. I mean, shouldn’t it be more like, I don’t know, a family dinner or something?”

And just like that, the doubts come creeping back in. She’s right. Papa didn’t even ask when I’d visit again. So why did he really call me over?

I push the thought away. “Maybe that’s just what happens when your daughter gets married? You forget how to be normal?”

Yelena laughs. “I guess. The men in our lives are a special breed.” Then she claps a hand over her mouth, giggling. “Oh God, I forgot for a second that my brother is your husband. You’re like a sister to me, and sometimes I have to remind myself that this sister has an ‘in-law’ attached to it.”

We stare at each other for a moment before bursting into hysterical laughter, drawing stares from nearby diners.

“They might kick us out,” Yelena whispers conspiratorially.

I grin. “Good thing we are rich, beautiful and don’t give a damn.”

As we dig into our obscenely expensive steaks, I can’t help but notice how Yelena’s eyes light up whenever Viktor’s name comes up in conversation.

Oh boy. Looks like Cupid’s been busy.

I eye Yelena over the rim of my wine glass. She’s got that look, the one that screams “I’m hiding something juicy.” Time to poke the bear.

“Alright, spill it,” I say, setting down my glass with a dramatic clink. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

She hesitates, chewing her lip. “I don’t want to hurt Viktor, Ana.”

Here it comes.

“He’s just so hot!” she blurts out, and I almost choke on my drink. When I collect myself, I nod, smirking. I’ve never looked at Viktor that way, but it’s hard to argue with Yelena’s assessment.

“But,” she sighs, and I brace myself, “I don’t think I can commit again. I’ve been there, done that, got the emotional scars to prove it.”

I wave my hand, trying to keep things light. “Hey, no pressure. I’m sure Viktor will be fine.”

Yelena’s face falls faster than a soufflé in an earthquake, and I mentally kick myself. Way to go, Ana. Real smooth.

“I didn’t mean that,” I backpedal. “But you can’t force feelings, right? That’s like...Relationship 101 or something.”

She nods, but her eyes are a million miles away. “The truth is, your brother is exactly the kind of person I’d love to be with. But I’m just not ready. My ex and I were supposed to get married.”

Oh. Oh no.

“Sounds like he was important,” I say, stating the obvious because, apparently, that’s my superpower today.

Yelena’s voice cracks as she continues, “I thought I could handle what he put me through. That his excuses were valid reasons for the things he did. But he broke me, Ana. It took months of therapy to even start putting myself back together.”

And just like that, I’m around the table, wrapping her in a hug tight enough to make a boa constrictor jealous. When Yelena came into my life, I found a sister and a friend. Now it’s my turn to be her rock.

After a while, she clears her throat. “It’s all in the past, though. Maybe I’ll be ready to take a chance in the future. But for now, I’m good where I am. And I don’t want to break your brother’s heart like I’ve done to others.”

I raise an eyebrow, and she adds quickly, “They had it coming.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Oh, I bet they did. Don’t worry, I’m not about to judge you for being yourself. That’s kind of the whole point of friendship, isn’t it?”

Yelena grins, then swiftly changes gears. “So, back to you. What’s the game plan with Daddy Dearest?”

I shrug, suddenly fascinated by the pattern on my napkin. “Honestly? No clue. Something’s broken there, but fixing it isn’t my job. Ball’s in his court now.”

She gives me a thumbs up. “That’s the spirit! Now, how about we order dessert? I think we’ve earned it after all this emotional heavy lifting.”

And just like that, we’re back to giggling over the menu like two teenagers on a sugar high. Family drama, romance woes—they can wait. Right now, there’s tiramisu calling our names.