If Adrian knew from the get-go that she wasn’t me, why did he hurt her? My chest squeezes at the thought that I put her in danger.

At the same time, I swear I saw her staring down at us when Adrian and I were playing with Jeremy in the garden at that time. Was that also a figment of my imagination?

Shaking my head, I go to Yan’s room and softly knock on the door.

“Come in,” he says in a weary voice.

I push the door open, then go inside and settle on the chair beside his bed. The one Kolya would be occupying if he were here. For a stoic dude, Kolya cares about Yan and shows it through action, though he’d probably never admit it in words.

Yan is sitting in bed, wearing a blue hoodie. His long hair is loose, falling to his neck and giving his face a softer edge. His skin’s color has returned to normal and the ghost of death has slowly retreated from his features.

He’s browsing through the TV channels without focusing on one in particular. Upon seeing me, he switches the TV off and leans back against the numerous pillows surrounding him.

“Are you okay?”

He lifts a shoulder and winces. “If bored out of my mind means I’m okay, then sure, I guess I am.”

A small smile paints my lips. His attitude is something else, I swear.

“How did you get here, anyway? I thought Boris was standing like a hell guard at the entrance of my prison.”

“I have my ways.”

“Your ways? You’re going to get us in trouble again, aren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t it be worth it?”

“Fuck, no. I still need my neck, thank you very much.”

I laugh softly, then pause as it dies away. “Hey, Yan.”

“Yes?”

“I remember.”

“You…do?”

“Yes. I stopped thinking I’m someone else or whatever.”

His lips part before he releases a long breath. “Fucking finally. I thought I’d have to start forcing info down your throat.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Did you forget the part where I still need my neck? Boss is already on a mission to cut me into pieces and exhibit them in the entrance hall. I don’t need to give him more incentive. Besides, the head shrink said you were dissociating, and forcing information on you would have the exact opposite effect and could worsen your state.”

I inch closer. “Is that why Adrian let me live as Winter?”

“Exactly.”

“I assume he watched me from afar?”

“We all did. You have no idea how grumpy he was during that period—more than usual, I mean. Yours truly had to take his wrath. He beat everyone up during our daily workouts.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for a situation you had no control over. Mental illness isn’t something to be sorry about.”

Tears surge to my eyes and I widen them to stop them from spilling. “Thanks.”

“We ride together and die together, woman.”

“Oh my God, Yan!” I shriek from excitement, a wide grin stretching my lips. “You’re Larry?!”

He winks. “The one and only.”

“I can’t believe it. You look nothing alike, except for the nose deformation. You even spoke in a different accent.”

“A disguise took care of the looks. As for the accent…” He clears his throat and switches to an American one. “I lived here most my life, woman. I can speak like an American. I just choose not to because a Russian accent makes me sound scary and badass.”

“You little bastard.” I’m still laughing, overjoyed at the fact that Larry and Yan are the same person. They were the only people I could consider a friend, whether as Lia or Winter.

“Who are you calling little? I’m twenty-five, thank you very much.”

“You’re still younger than me. Deal with it.”

“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes. “Does Boss know you remember?”

My humor vanishes as I recall what happened today. “He does, but he found out under the worst circumstances. He’s back to thinking I cheated on him. Not that he ever stopped.”

“He doesn’t just think it. You put it in his head and refused to deny it.”

“I did today and he didn’t believe me.”

“Can you blame him? You left that idea to fester and rot in his mind for months.”

“I know. But he’s not innocent either.”

“So? Are you going to talk about it or will you consider solving this a few years from now? Because he might not have the time.”

My heart thunders as a gloomy halo confiscates my thoughts. “What do you mean?”

“Now that you’re Lia, you should know that he killed Richard.”

“I already figured that out. Didn’t he do that to get me back by his side again?” Though I’m glad for it, Adrian’s methods can be extreme. He really frightened the shit out of me back then.

“No, he did it because the scum Richard put his hands on you.”

“Oh.” A rush of something hot goes through me and for some reason, it’s not disgust.

My husband said he’d protect me and he did. Even when I completely erased him.

“That’s not all, Lia. Richard was the Bratva’s mayoral candidate and Sergei isn’t happy that he died. If he finds out it’s an inside job, he’ll consider it a betrayal.”

“Does he…does he suspect Adrian?”

“Yes, and he put Vladimir on the task to bring him down. That mule fucker won’t stop until he proves that Boss is behind it. Igor, who never forgave him for tossing Kristina aside for you, is also plotting his demise so he can put his eldest son in Boss’s position.”

“But…but…isn’t he the most valuable asset to the brotherhood? Sergei wouldn’t abandon him just like that.”

“He would.”

“But why? Adrian is the pillar of that stupid brotherhood. They can’t simply cast him out.” I’m so enraged on his behalf. He gave those assholes his youth and his life, yet they have the audacity to do this to him for someone as insignificant as Richard?

“They sure can. Richard’s death allowed the Lucianos to push their candidate forward and that’s a clear act of betrayal.”

My heart skips a beat at the mention of Dad’s last name. My biological father—the reason why Adrian approached me in the first place. “But he didn’t do it to benefit the Italians.”

“True, but that’s what it’d look like to Sergei and everyone else.”

“Shit.”

“Shit, indeed, Lia. So don’t waste any more time.”

“I don’t plan to.”

Yan hesitates, running his hand through his hair as he watches me from beneath his long eyelashes.

“What is it, Yan?”

“I heard you that night, you know.”

“What night?”

“When I was shot.”

“Oh.”

“You knew that man.” He lowers his voice. “You know him.”

“Yeah,” I murmur.

“Ah, well, fuck. One more complication.”

“Are you going to tell Adrian?”