Page 166 of The Enemy Protector
“Who painted that?” she asks.
I don’t talk about this. Ever. She’s my wife. She deserves to know.
“My mother.”
Sofia turns to look at me, her expression softening. “Your mother painted?”
“It was her escape.”
“The same way my mother had her books.”
I stare at the painting. “She’d lock herself in her studio for hours. My father hated it. Said it was a waste of time. That she should be focused on being a pakhan’s wife.”
“But she kept painting anyway.”
“Until my father killed her.”
“Your father killed your mother?”
“Not directly. It was a rival hit meant for him but killed her.”
“I’m sorry.”
“My father destroyed most of her work after she died. Said it was evidence of her weakness. That painting is the only one I managed to save.”
Sofia’s hand finds mine, lacing our fingers together. She doesn’t offer platitudes or sympathy. She just holds my hand and lets me continue.
“I was twenty-one when she was killed. She used to always make me promise I wouldn’t end up like my father.”
“You’re not like him,” Sofia says quietly.
“I’ve done terrible things.”
“To protect people. That’s different.”
“Is it?”
She shifts so she’s looking directly at me. “Yes. Your mother would understand that. You’re not a saint, but you don’t randomly kill women, do you?”
“No.”
“Then you’re not him.”
I want to believe that. I want to think my mother would approve of the man I’ve become, even with all the blood on my hands.
“Our child will have it better,” she says. “Do not let my child grow up without me.”
“I swear on my life, I will not allow our child to endure what we have. You will not die.”
She smiles. “Thank you for keeping me safe even when I didn’t know I needed it.”
“I’ll do it again. A thousand times over.” I cup her face in my hand. “You’re mine to protect, Sofia. You and our child. That’s not a burden. It’s a privilege. And I will spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”
She kisses me and then rests her face against my chest.
I hold her and stare at my mother’s painting, thinking about promises made and kept.
I’m not the man my father wanted me to be.
