Page 53 of Cruel Submission

“Dr. Harrison said controlled, not imprisoned.” His jaw works. “You’re keeping her from the world. From her own sister.”

“For her protection.”

“Jesus, Arkady. Are you even hearing yourself? Why the fuck are you doing this?”

“This isn’t about me,” I snap.

“Isn’t it?” Yanis doesn’t retreat. Doesn’t even blink. “You’re becoming just like him, Arkady.”

My blood boils. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me.” He’s standing his ground. “Since Mishka died, all you two do is fight. But you’re more alike than you want to admit. The same pigheadedness. The same need for control.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Yanis?” My voice rises, echoing off marble and glass. “Father’s a human trafficker, for fuck’s sake! He kept Debra as a sex slave.”

“I’m not talking about trafficking.” Yanis cuts me off, his voice climbing to match mine. “I’m talking about his controlling personality. The way he decides what’s best for everyone without asking their opinion. The way he keeps people isolated and dependent. Tell me, Arkady… how is locking Debra away from her own twin sister any different?”

Ublyudok!

I want to hit him. Want to slam him against the wall and make him take it back, make him see that I’m nothing like Gavriil, that everything I do is to protect the people I—

But I can’t. Because he’s right.

I step back instead. Put space between us before I do something I’ll regret.

“That’s not fair,” I say, but the words lack conviction.

“Isn’t it?” Yanis moves to block my retreat. “You rescued Debra—good. But now you’re keeping her hidden from her sister. Why? Who decides if two sisters can meet? You? You’re making choices for everyone around you, just like Father does. You’re just better at justifying it. I don’t know what the fuck you have to prove.”

“What I have to prove? Father blames me for Mishka’s death.” The confession rips out of me before I can stop it. “And Mother’s death, too. That’s not fair. You were there, Yanis. You know it was an accident. I carry that guilt every fucking day.”

My brother’s expression twists. Pain bleeds through the anger, old grief resurfacing like a body that won’t stay buried.

“I never blamed you for Mishka,” he says, quieter now.

“But Father did. He still does.” I force myself to hold his gaze, to not look away from the truth that’s lived between us for thirteen years. “Father told Sergei Tulikov about me killing Mishka. Handed him the ammunition like a loaded gun. And of course Sergei used it against me the first second he could.”

Yanis goes completely still. When he speaks again, his voice is low. “You didn’t kill Sergei, did you?”

I say nothing.

Outside, a bird calls. The heating system clicks on somewhere deep in the house’s guts. Normal sounds in an abnormal moment.

“Blyad.” Yanis stares at me like I’m a stranger. “Arkady—”

“Use this against me if that’s what you wish.” I shrug, aiming for indifference and landing somewhere closer to exhaustion. “Won’t change what happened. Won’t change what I had to do.”

“That’s not what I wish.” The fight drains out of him. I watch it happen in real time—shoulders dropping, hands uncurling, that terrible certainty dissolving into weariness. “What I wish for is peace in the family. What we have left of the family, I mean.”

“Then why the fuck did you help me rescue the girls from the cellar, Yanis?” The question comes out harsher than I intend. “Whose side are you on?”

“I’m on the side of peace, Arkady.” He meets my eyes again, and this time there’s something pleading in his expression. “I helped with the girls because it was the right thing to do. Because I disagree with what Father is doing. Human trafficking is evil—I won’t defend that. But then again, aren’t you keeping people hidden from the world? You’re hiding Debra from her sister. You decide who she sees, when she eats, whether she gets to step outside. It’s her life, bratan! She should be able to make those decisions.”

Chert voz’mi!

I’m not in the mood to explain Dr. Harrison’s protocols about shielding severe trauma patients from overwhelming stimuli. About how Debra needs structure and safety before she can handle the chaos of reunion.

But there’s something else beneath Yanis’s anger. Something that has nothing to do with moral philosophy.