Page 11 of Tainted Empire
Lee pauses, her expression softening as she looks at me.
“He’s been keeping a low profile, focusing on Bratva business. He’s colder, more calculated. But that’s his way of coping, of maintaining control,” she continues, her voice laced with a hint of sadness. “He also needs to show face; weakness in his line of work can’t be seen.”
I nod, understanding but still feeling a pang of concern. Despite the pain and the distance between us, I can’t help but worry about Mikhail, about how he’s dealing with his own turmoil.
“It must be hard for him,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. I can’t help but feel a pang of guilt, wondering if my absence is causing him more pain.
Lee seems to read my thoughts. “Gabi, this isn’t on you. You’re not responsible for his actions or his current state. He made choices that night, choices that led us here. You don’t need forgiveness because it’s Mikhail who needs to make amends.”
Her words are a balm to the part of me that’s been wracked with self-blame. I nod slowly, digesting the truth in her statement.
“I know,” I say softly. “It’s just hard not to worry, to wonder if things could have been different…”
“Mikhail is a grown man, and he’s responsible for his actions,” Lee interrupts gently. “What happened was not your fault. You’ve been put in an incredibly tough situation, and you’re handling it with a lot of strength.”
Her affirmation is powerful, and I feel a small weight lift off my shoulders. “Thank you, Lee. I just hope he’s getting the help he needs to deal with everything.”
“He is,” she assures me. “He’s not alone in this. We’re all here to support him, but right now, he needs to work through his own issues.”
Her words are a comfort, helping me to separate my own feelings from the responsibility for Mikhail’s actions. It’s a distinction I’ve struggled with since that night, and Lee’s assurance is a much-needed reminder.
I set down my fork, taking a moment before I voice the question that has been burning in my mind. “I’ve been thinking about something lately… About Dasha and Mikhail’s past...” I trail off, gathering my thoughts. “What I need to know is how he was afterward. How did he change?”
Lee puts her utensil down and pushes her empty plate away. She grabs her glass of wine and sighs.
“After Dasha...” she starts slowly, “Mikhail was a broken man. He closed off, built walls around himself that were nearly impenetrable.”
I listen, feeling a mixture of sorrow and understanding. Dasha’s betrayal was a part of Mikhail’s story that had always lingered in the background, a ghost from his past that I knew of but never fully grasped.
“He became more ruthless in his dealings, more detached. It was as if the betrayal didn’t just break his heart, it reshaped his entire being.”
The sadness in her voice is palpable, and I find myself empathizing with a version of Mikhail I never knew, one who had his heart shattered and had to piece himself back together.
“It’s hard to imagine him like that,” I say softly, picturing a younger, more vulnerable Mikhail.
“It was a difficult time,” Lee admits. “Finding himself meant losing a part of his warmth, his capacity to trust. He threw himself into his role as his father’s heir. It was as if he decided that if he couldn’t feel, he couldn’t get hurt again.”
A wave of understanding washes over me. Mikhail’s actions, his protectiveness, his reluctance to fully open up – they were all pieces of a defense mechanism built years ago.
“But Gabi,” Lee adds, her eyes meeting mine with a serious intensity, “what happened between you and Mikhail recently, the hurt and fear, that’s not on you. You’re not responsible for healing the wounds Dasha left.”
“He was protecting himself back then, same as he’s doing now,” I whisper, not just to Lee but also to myself.
“Yes, in his own way,” Lee agrees.
“He’s been through so much,” I whisper, my thoughts drifting to the complex, often tormented man I married. “And now, after everything, I just add to his pain.”
Lee reaches across the table, placing her hand on mine. “Don’t you dare do that to yourself. You are not Dasha, and you should not bear the weight of his history. What happened between you two, that wasn’t your fault. Mikhail’s past is not your burden to carry.”
Her words are a gentle reminder, a nudge to separate my story from Mikhail’s. “I know,” is all I say, offering a smile I don’t feel.
As we wrap up our dinner, the lingering conversation about Dasha and Mikhail fades into the background. The clink of plates echoes in the silence as we methodically clean up. But then, in an abrupt moment, the sound of shattering ceramic slices through the air. I whirl around, my heart leaping into my throat.
“Gabriette…” Lee’s voice trembles, laced with a dread that immediately sets my nerves on edge. Her eyes, wide and brimming with alarm, lock onto mine.
“What?” I ask, a sense of foreboding clawing at my chest. It’s then that I feel it – an unmistakable wetness creeping down my inner thigh.
A cold shiver races down my spine as I press a hand to my abdomen, where a dull, aching pain begins to blossom. A knot of terror tightens in my stomach.