𝑃ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑛

09

~ phoenix ~

I was shocked as I stared at the back of his black waistcoat. It couldn't be.

The hand around my wrist was far gentler than I remembered and when we were concealed by the heavy burgundy curtain, I wasn't thrust against the pillar as my body instinctively tensed for.

I continued to stare, my heart considering what my mind already ruled out as impossible.

Turn around.

"Excuse my bluntness, сестра. This was my only opportunity."

I stiffened, remembering the one person who'd only ever referred to me as sister.

"Viktor?"

Finally, he spun to face me, eyes eerily piercing. I steeled my arms against my chest, scoffing at myself. What was I expecting? Viktor Ilyich Ivanov was guised as a waiter, waistcoat and bow tie, not in the custom suit and tie like the other guests. How had I expected anything else?

"I needed to see you weeks ago but—"

"You're supposed to be dead..." I murmured to myself, brows furrowing.

It didn't make sense. Was this a ghost, one that intended to torture me? If he was still alive, then why...

"Viktor! You're supposed to be dead!" I accused, my throat thickening with unwelcome emotion.

This Ivanov seemed taken aback. "Phoenix, I'm... alive."

"Then why?" I demanded... begged. "Does he hate me?"

"Who," he began, uneasily, "hates you?"

I opened my mouth to shout my answer, but my throat wouldn't open. I gasped, staring at my hands which were once more trembling. I was doing so well. I stepped away.

Viktor seemed urgent, as he pulled me back, closer. "No one can know I'm here," he muttered quickly.

"Why haven't you gone home?" I questioned finally finding my voice as I stared up at those hard eyes. "To Lav? Your children?"

Immediately, his hands dropped from each of my shoulders, head reeling back as if I had slapped him.

"What did you say?"

Confused, angry, I stared at him. I blinked and continued to stare as a tide of emotion rolled over his expression.

Vik narrowed his eyes, fingers wrapping around my wrist like a vice. "What did you say?"

I narrowed my own gaze, wrenching my hand away and rubbing the stinging skin. "I said why the fuck aren't you with your family?"

"No," he growled, shaking his head fervently, "you said children. My children. I gave my name to Mikhail, but he is only one. Why did you say children?"

My eyes widened with the understanding that Viktor Ivanov was clueless of the daughter named after him.

I softened my tone, already having forgiven the man's previous mistreatment. "You... you have a daughter with Lavinia. She was named after you...Viktoria."

Slowly, I watched his jaw clench, eyes harden and fists close. It was as clear as day that he was rebuilding all his walls, as hard and rough as concrete.

But why?

He turned to leave, and his callous eyes revealed he had no intention of going home. I grabbed his shoulder, shoving him against the pillar.