Page 59 of Oblivion
“I don’t have words expressive enough to explain myself or to tell you how much it hurt me, not knowing where you were.” He turned toward me, and even though I could see he meant every single word, I couldn’t forgive him for abandoning me. “The moment you escaped, I turned my back on him. Nikolai wasn’t part of the real Syndicate for a very long time, Ophelia. My father, yourdedushka, cut him off.”
Mydedushka, my grandfather. The man was more a myth than a real person to me.
Konstantin Asterov was a man Theo met, but me? Never. Nikolai always made it seem as if that side of the family was the one that wanted nothing to do with us, but in reality, he was the one they wanted nothing to do with.
We were just collateral damage.
“I looked for you. We all did. Your grandfather, your cousins, we all looked, but no one could ever find you.”
“Well, one of you found me.” I smirked. “And she didn’t tell you.”
Lazar frowned. “Who?”
“Natalia,” I answered. “Natalia Asterova.”
“Suka,” he cursed and turned toward Andrei whose expression was as murderous as mine at the mention of Natalia’s name. “She wasn’t part of The Syndicate. She wanted to be, but she failed her exams and we never allowed her to be a part of us. She ran to America, and she worked with your father.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“I wish I were.”
I lifted my legs from the floor and hugged my knees to my chest. “What about the Sons of Hades?” I looked up at him. “Why didn’t you stop him?”
“I tried. But I was too late.”
“He almost died,” I murmured. “The man I love almost died because of Nikolai, and you’re telling me you were just too late?”
“Storm Knoxx,da?”
“Da.” I nodded. “He almost died and you’re standing here giving me all these excuses that mean nothing to me! My whole world shattered and no amount of excuses could ever give me back those days where I blamed myself for everything that was happening.”
“I know.”
“Poshel na khuy!” I thundered. “Fuck you and your excuses.”
“I know, Ophelia.”
“Stop being so calm!” I yelled. “Why are you not angry, huh? Why did you let him destroy me?” I cried out, hating every single moment of this.
Everything I went through, every scar on my mind, every wound on my body, it all could have been avoided if my real father had done what he was supposed to do. He didn’t protect me. Didn’t protect my mother.
“You’re too late, old man,” I murmured and wiped away the tears cascading down my cheeks. “I don’t need your apologies. I don’t need your excuses or your family.”
“Ophelia—”
“No,” I cut him off. “You weren’t here when I needed you. You weren’t here when I cried to the skies, begging for someone, anyone, to save me. You abandoned me!”
“I know,” he whispered, his eyes glassy.
“You don’t get to just waltz in and pretend that we’re gonna have, what? A father-daughter relationship?”
“I don’t expect that. But I was hoping that we could talk. That we could mend the burned bridges and everything that’s happened.”
I looked at him, really, really looked at him.
Years and years of self-loathing, of destruction, hatred, pain and anger, and this man could have stopped it all. I could have had a normal life. I could have had a happy life.
I could have been someone else. Someone like Alessia, free to love, free to fight for those I cared about. But no. All I got was the darkness coming at me from every corner, and belief that I was the monster.
