Sasha: Chapter 15

I made a promise to wait. I waited.

Four goddamn years. If I was smart, I would have asked questions. Specifics. For Christ’s sake, who in their right mind waited for someone for four years?

Branka fucking Russo. Idiot!

Four fucking years without the occasional phone call or a card. Fucking nothing. The dull ache bloomed in my chest. Heartbreak and loneliness became part of me, my constant companion. Every time I thought I was past it something would trigger it, and I was right back to being that little girl left behind.

Round and round we go.

First time he left, he was gone for three years. This time it was four. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

I sighed.

Maybe there was a reason people I love always leave me. Maybe I was worthless. Maybe I wasn’t enough to fight for. Alessio came back for me when Mia was dead. He was my brother. Sasha Nikolaev didn’t have any allegiances or obligations. And people broke promises every day.

My lungs closed up, and my throat tightened. The pain stole the breath straight from my lungs. I desperately took a breath in and exhaled. Then another one. But pain still lingered. That feeling of abandonment still lurked in the shadows of my soul.

It wasn’t until my eyes darted to my nephew sleeping on the bed, that oxygen finally found its way into my lungs. I could finally breathe. A soft giggle rang in the room. It was my nephew’s. He had happy dreams. My lips curved into a smile and happy tears burned in the back of my eyes.

Kol Alessandro was possibly the first Russo to have a happy and safe childhood. He was my brother’s son, although my best friend had yet to admit it. One day she would, I was certain of it. Autumn was a force to be reckoned with when it came to her son. Protective lioness.

Just as any mother should be.

My mother wasn’t. Neither was my father. As I watched the life of New York City buzzing below me, memories drifted through my mind, pulling me back to the past. The past I preferred not to remember.

“Let’s play hide and seek,” Father announced to Mother and me.

It was Christmas Eve. My second Christmas without Mia and Alessio. I thought about them every day. They were my first thought when I woke up and the last thought when I went to sleep. I missed them so much, the pain in my chest raw.

My eyes flickered to my mother. She wasn’t looking at me. She wasn’t looking at Father. She stared at the fire cracking in the fireplace. From the outside, the atmosphere in this family room seemed serene. It wasn’t until you were in the room that you noticed dark shadows lurking in the corners. Broken ghosts haunting us.

“I don’t want to play hide and seek,” I whispered, my voice raspy.

The skin on my thighs hurt from cigarette burns. Every movement shot pain through every inch of my body. My throat was raw from my screams and my lungs burned like someone fed me acid and needles.

“Get up and run,” he barked. I jumped, Mother immediately rose to her feet. Tired and beaten down. That was what she reminded me of. I didn’t want to become like that. I had to fight.

Alessio and Mia will come back. They’ll come back for me.

But even as that hope lingered in the back of my mind, I could feel it dimming each day.

The dark tunnel under my father’s manor was used for his enemies. To torture. To beat. To break. I didn’t want to be here.

“Psst.”

My steps faltered. My little heart thundered. I glanced around. There was nobody. Just dark and cold. Each exhale steamed in front of my face. I took another two steps.

“Psst.”

My steps froze and I held my breath. Somebody here. Fear wrapped around my throat and cut off my breath. My heart raced in my chest, each beat of it cracking my ribs.was

Something touched me.

I flew through the air, then my body slammed against the wall, my head hitting the wall. Stars swam in my visions.

“Remember me, little girl?”

Blackness. I couldn’t see. I blinked my eyes, desperate for my vision to return. My surroundings slowly came into focus, and it was then I saw him.

The man. I scratched his eye out. It stared at me but couldn’t see. It was like watching a murky glass eyeball.

“Time to pay, little girl,” he drawled. “Eye for an eye.”

He didn’t take my eye that day. My spirit still rebelled.

But he extinguished my hope.

Alessio had the best doctors in the country heal my physical scars. Those were easy to fix. The invisible ones not so much.

The hotel door swung open, the past drifted through them and out the hotel room. Autumn’s parents strolled in with wide grins on their faces. I loved seeing their happiness. It gave me hope. It promised possibilities.

“Hey there,” I greeted them. “You’re back fast.”

As odd as it sounded, Autumn’s parents had shown me more affection and love since I’d met them than my own parents had in their entire lives. Autumn and her parents were the best thing that happened to me, next to my brother.

“We didn’t want you to miss the show,” Autumn’s father beamed. “The exhibit was lovely.”

My lips curved up. “I’ve seen the photos.”

In fact, I was with her when she took most of them. I’d traveled with Autumn for the past four years across all corners of the world. Autumn had an eye and talent for photography. I had it for capturing attention and blogging. We worked perfectly together. What I lacked, she didn’t and vice versa.

“You look nice, Branka,” Mrs. Corbin complimented.

My eyes lowered. My dress was yellow and flowy with a nude crocheted bodice. The dress wasn’t anything elaborate but the slit up the thigh gave it a little extra. The heels I wore were nude, matching the bodice, and laced up my calves.

“Thank you.”

They saw me to the door, a peck on the cheek, and I took the elevator down to the hotel lobby. As I strutted through the Aman Hotel lobby, I felt eyes on me but I ignored them all. I liked to dress up. When ghosts haunted, it felt like armor, allowing me to hide behind it.

And admittedly, sometimes it seemed silly to dress up. I enjoyed fancy things but Autumn’s comfort over looks might have rubbed off on me. Except that being on this continent made me want to dress up.

Just in case I ran into a psychotic mobster with pale blue eyes.

Did it make sense? No.

I was an idiot. There was nothing else to say.

The moment I stepped on the city sidewalk, I headed in the direction of the gallery. It was only a block away. It’d take me longer to flag a cab than walk to it.

A black Mercedes G-Benz caught my eye. The back door was wide open. It seemed odd. Especially with the crime rate in New York City. A flicker of gold had me turning my head and I froze. Sasha Nikolaev.

He held the door for a woman. A beautiful woman with curly blonde hair. I couldn’t see her well. Most of her body was hidden behind the car door, her eyes on the pavement. But there was no mistaking that she was beautiful.

A bite of jealousy shot through me. Ugly, red, and green. Like hate and envy.

Sasha’s eyes scanned the area. Like he was surveilling the area for possible threats to his woman.

He leaned into her and I watched his lips move.

I turned around and resumed my steps. Except, they felt heavier this time. The night seemed darker. A hot sensation trailed down my spine, and I couldn’t resist turning my head over my shoulder.

My gaze collided with pale blue eyes. My pulse missed its next beat.

His lips moved. “Come here,” I thought they read. “Now.”

My chest squeezed. I shook my head. I’d never go to him. He was nothing to me. This was nothing. I didn’t know the guy. I didn’t love him.

But knowing how my body reacted to his hands on me was intoxicating. I wanted to feel them on my skin once more.

Except that would never happen again.

He asked me to wait for him. I did.

Shame on me for trusting him. Sasha Nikolaev was history to me.