“Of course he will.” My brothers and I will make sure of it. I bite my lip. “You lost your mom pretty young too, didn’t you?”
“I was five when she died. Complications from Ksenia’s birth,” he says, and even though there’s no emotion in his tone, I have to fight a bizarre urge to reach over the table and hug him. I’ve always known that he and his siblings were raised by their father, but I never gave it much thought, except to vaguely wonder if that’s why he’s so ruthless… if being raised by a monster has made him one.
“That must’ve been equally hard for you,” I say softly.
He lifts one broad shoulder in a shrug. “It was a long time ago.” Picking up his glass, he leans forward. “What about you? Your loss is far more recent. How are you doing these days?”
It’s my turn to flinch. To give
