All I see is a broken man leaning against the wall with his dog by his side.
I don’t know how I’m supposed to leave him like this.
I don’t know how I’m supposed to leave him at all, and the death of his father has made everything worse.
I know what it’s like to lose your parents, and now he’s lost them both, too.
Like me, he witnessed their deaths.
Mikhail pushes away from the wall when he notices me and straightens, trying to look strong.
He’s worn that mask of strength since he came home last night and has continued to wear it all day.
I don’t even think he’s registered he’s the new Pakhan. He got what he wanted but lost so much in the same breath.
Now, we’re about to lose each other.
It’s just the two of us here, and Snow.
The house staff—Aleksander mainly—and Sophia said goodbye to me earlier today.
Mikhail takes my little bag from me when I reach him and catches my hand so we can walk out to the car together holding hands. Snow trots in front of us.
Escorting me to the airport are Levka and three of his other guards from the security team.
Mikhail hasn’t gone into too much detail about what happed last night, but I noticed that more guards were here today looking like they were planning for something big. I think the fact that he’s sending me to the airport with three of his top security guards says a lot about what he hasn’t told me.
It must have to do with Ivan.
I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach which worsens with every second that passes.
Maybe, though, that feeling stems from not knowing if I’m ever going to see him again. And, I don’t know what’s going to happen to him here.
We stop by the Bugatti, and he places my bag with the rest of luggage in the trunk. He closes it, and the sound echoes in my heart. It’s the sound of goodbye. Final and absolute.
Mikhail walks around to me and cups my face. When he presses his forehead to mine, I feel the weight of the burden he carries.
“I don’t want to leave you like this,” I tell him.
“You have to, Malyshka.”
Malyshka.Will I ever hear him call me that again?
“Everything will be okay when you get to my friend,” he adds.
“But you won’t be,” I point out. He releases me. “I’m so sorry about your father.”
For a fraction of a second, he shows me a glimpse of the pain in his eyes.
“Even though I knew he was going to die, it feels like the world ended.”
“I know.” I know all too well; except I didn’t know when my parents would be taken from me. I never had time to prepare. Neither makes it easier. Death never is.
He touches my cheek and attempts a smile. “You will be okay, though, and I promise you, life won’t be as hard as it was before. You’ll have everything you need.”
Except him.
“Will I ever see you again?”
