The cake was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. Not that he doubted the flavor in the first place. It was magic-made. Although the person who seemed to enjoy the cake at six in the morning the most was Rose. She wouldn't stop grinning. Dimitri, on the other hand, was more than ready to crash. 

Slowly, sunlight shone through the kitchen window and somehow it didn't seem as bright as her. Dimitri stood up and took his plate to the sink, thinking that he'll wash it later. 

"I'm off—"

"Something's wrong," she suddenly spoke, sounding serious. Her gaze averted to the tall figure in the kitchen. He swallowed. Nothing gets past her. He knew that eventually she was going to find out in her own way, but was it wrong that he hoped she would never ever have to find out the dark side of his life?

"Nothing's wrong," he answered.

"You're a terrible liar," she retorted. He could sense anger radiating off of her. He turned around to face and saw her fiery brown eyes. "You're not telling me something."

He sighed and said, "I don't need to tell you everything."

Rose set her fork down and stood up as well. She looked down and said, "Lady Natasha sent you a message today. It's still on your computer. Are you planning on going somewhere?" She couldn't ignore the ache she felt just thinking of him going somewhere without telling her. 

He froze and closed his eyes. He really wasn't in the mood for explanations, but after everything she did, she deserved it. "A family reunion. My family. And I don't plan on going," he gave a her quick reply and walked out of the kitchen. Like he said before, he would rather die then face that scum again. Forgiveness was something he could not give away easily.

She went after him. "Why? It's a family reunion! You should go," she said, seeing no reason why he shouldn't. He turned around and grasped both of her shoulders, looking deeply into her eyes.

"Tell me, Rose, if you had a father that was a drunkard and abused his family constantly, could you face him?" he asked. She could feel his pain and most of all, his anger. Her mouth went dry. "I got so disgusted that I beat him up when I was thirteen. He left and a few years later, my family decided to give him a chance, holding a family reunion every once in awhile. They're praying with all their hearts that I would attend someday, but until that scum leaves, they can expect nothing except my absence." He let go of me her shoulders and went into his bedroom. 

She stood there, speechless and a little bit of regret. She walked to his door and hesitated. Should she? She leaned her head against his door and whispered, "I'm sorry. I wish I could take your pain away. All I want for you is happiness."

She did feel his pain truly and even more. She also felt her pain. Pain of her past. She didn't only hear, she saw it too. Ever since she set foot in Heirloom Garden, she regretted every step she took. But then again, it was her pain that her understand his pain. She learned that—that was the human way of life. But at least, he still had a family. She didn't. 

Nevertheless, behind the closed door was a man equal in pain. He never knew how true words could be until she spoke them or how sincere and genuine. She was the only person he knew that came close to the truth. She spoke what she felt and how true her words were.

He laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The desire to rest had long abandoned him. He sat up and walked out of his bedroom, searching for an angel.

"Rose?" 

She appeared not very far from him and turned around. Before he could change his mind, he wrapped his arms around her and held her there. She did the same. 

"Why do you carry the weight on your shoulders when you have mine to share the burden?" she asked softly.

He didn't think he had ever heard words so sweet. Once again she reminded him that he was not alone. He held her tighter and said, "Only if you share your burden with me. What did you hear at Heirloom Garden?"

Tears swelled in her eyes as she hid her face in his chest. "They hurt me," she answered, her voice trembling.

"Did somebody kill you?"

She shook her head, streams running down her face. "Worse. They sacrificed me."

His blood ran cold. That was when the old man's poem made sense to him. A stone altar. . . 

He had seen and heard many things but nothing made his blood run cold like this. Why? Why would they sacrifice such a girl? A beautiful angel like her? As much as he didn't want to admit it, she was the best person he had ever met in his entire life. She was cheerful, smart, understanding, and strikingly beautiful. He felt anger running deep in his veins, imagining people sacrificing an innocent young girl on an altar. He cursed those old rituals he didn't believe in, yet, there she was in his arms. A Guardian Angel. 

That was the reason why she was so silent the first few days they got back from Heirloom Garden. He wanted her faraway from those memories. He didn't want her to touch them. She was innocent, far too innocent. 

"Russia's a cold country but it is beautiful," he spoke, stroking her head in a gentle manner. Memories of home played like a broken record every time he blinked. "You would like it there. I'm sure you would probably want to try the food more than anything."

A smile lit up Rose's tear-stained face. "Will you go?" she asked quietly. 

"Only if you go with me."

The second Dimitri set his foot on Russian ground, he felt as if all the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. Had it been that long? He didn't bother letting anyone know he was going to be there for the family union. He walked through the busy airport and had already arranged for a rented car. 

He didn't know what the future was holding for him and it was too late to turn back. Plus, he didn't only come here for the family reunion. After all, they were things he was willing to do here. He took out his phone and saw new messages. He was not surprised, though. He sighed and slipped his phone back into his pocket. 

He got the key to the car and drove to on the familiar roads. He could feel how tensed he was on seeing his father again. During the drive, he would drum his fingers on the steering wheel. He tried to focus his mind on other things, but it seemed that distraction was hard to come by today. Rose had not made an appearance today which didn't ease his mind. Usually her cheerful personality would keep his mind occupied. But she was not here. He was alone—for now.

Although, he didn't relish it the way he expected himself to. Silence had wrapped its fingers around his throat, choking him. For the first time in his life, he didn't like silence. He also didn't enjoy the music on the radio that much. It was full of crappy songs.

He drove through the city of Omsk and there close to the outskirts was Baia. A small town it was. He slowed down, not taking his eyes off the road that led into it. He let out a deep breath and the car moved forward.

Here goes nothing. . .

"Dimka!" He would know that voice even in his sleep. The second the front door was opened, his seventeen-year-old sister, Viktoria Belikova, threw her arms around him in joy. He lifted her up off the ground and hugged her as well. It had been too long. He set her back down and eyed her.

"I think you've grown," he stated, giving her a small smile.

She rolled her eyes and said, "Of course, I've grown. You haven't been here for a long time. And you didn't even text me or any of us back."

He didn't reply to that. Instead, he walked inside their home and was greeted by surprised faces of his family. His mother, Olena, moved out from behind the kitchen counter and gave her only son a tight hug.

"Oh Dimka, I'm glad you're here." 

He smiled and kissed her cheek.  After giving her two other sisters a hug, he couldn't help it but notice how the house still looked the same as he left. Then he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He looked up and the light atmosphere dissipated immediately. Everyone in the room shifted uncomfortably on their spot. It was as if time dragged its nails painfully slow on a chalkboard. 

Randall Ivashkov stood tall on the bottom step, not breaking eye contact with his son. His lips curved up into a dark smile. 

"Son," he acknowledged casually, walking to stand next to Olena who silently prayed that things would go well this family reunion.

Dimitri's expression turned cold. "Randall," he said icily. He would rather kill himself than call that man 'father' again. Sonja cleared her throat and clapped her hands.

"Well, isn't this wonderful?" she exclaimed, "We're all here!"

Randall smiled at her and said, "Yes, isn't it wonderful."

Sonja was about to open her mouth when Dimitri shot up the stairs, straight into his old bedroom. Lined against the wall were his bookshelves and western novels he enjoyed reading. He sighed and opened the curtains, letting sunlight in. He noticed how his room had a personal collection of dust from over the years he was gone.

"Your sister has interesting hair. Is it normal?"

He turned around to find Rose laying on his bed, playing with her dress. He shrugged and replied, "She likes purple streaks in her hair."

She raised her brow at him. "I've never seen purple hair before," she said, smiling a little. Then he went quiet, his mind wondered elsewhere. She studied his silence and her gaze fell on the door that led to the short little hallway. She could hear faint laughter from downstairs and her attention went back to Dimitri.

He pulled out a book and flipped through the pages.

"Your father. . ."

"I don't trust him."

Anger radiated off of his words. 

He closed his eyes and said, "He's not here to do good, Rose. He's playing a mind game with me." He drove him sick to think that his family would allow this parasite into their home again. Before he could say more, someone knocked on the door lightly and opened it.

"Dimka?" It was Sonja, the second child of Olena. She poked her head through to make sure it was alright for her to come in.

Dimitri had to blink twice at the sight before him. Sonja was pregnant. How could he miss that? He hugged her and missed something like that? It frustrated him that the return of his father distracted him so much that he didn't pay attention to things like that.

"You're pregnant?" he asked, sounding surprised. 

Sonja sat down on his bed and nodded sadly. "Yeah, it's sort of a long story. Anyway, I just came up to talk with my little brother. It's been so long. . .too long."

His heart ached. Whatever happened, Sonja would always be his sister. They were all close at one time. Then the time of standing up for themselves came. "It's good to be back," he said. Although, it tasted bitter in his mouth—like poison.

Her smile grew sadder. "Dimitri, I know it must be hard for you. But don't we all deserve a second chance at something?" she asked, hope sparkling in her eyes.

Her words stung his skin, prickling and gnawing. His brows furrowed. "If you expect me to accept him as our fa—"

"But he is our father whether you like it or not. His blood runs in our veins."

"Maybe that's why I resent him so much. Because I know that every inch and drop of blood in my body has him."

"He is trying to earn your forgiveness."

"Too bad he is doing it all in vain."

"Dimitri!" Sonja said, "I should go. This conversation is not good for the baby." She stood up and opened the door.

Dimitri grabbed her wrist and asked, "Sonja, who's the father of the child?" Her eyes swelled up with tears. She shook her head and sighed.

"He is long gone."

By the end of the day, Dimitri was sure this was the worst family reunion on the entire planet and in the history of mankind. First, he nearly had an argument with his so-called father. Second, he almost lost his temper when his father talked about future family trips, as if everything in the past was long forgotten. Third, Rose wasn't even there to make a cone of shame appear around his father's neck. Fourth, one day with his family made him almost regret coming here. There were problems. Sonja was pregnant and nobody knew the father. She wouldn't tell. Klarolina, on the other hand, lost her job at the restaurant she was working at. His mother was hopeful when it came to the 'perfect' family. She tried to leave him and his father alone in the living room; Thus, the almost argument. Viktoria? Well, she was still Viktoria. Grandmother Yeva was still the quiet old lady. He didn't know if things could get any worse. He was not particularly blaming his sisters, mother, or grandmother. He enjoyed their company a great deal. But Randall Ivashkov back in their lives was another thing. 

That was when he realized he was on the brink of control. The man really brought out the worst in him. He stood in their backyard, staring up at the night sky. Tomorrow the whole family was going to the park for a picnic. He wasn't thrilled. Then he felt something cold and swirly in his left hand. He lifted up his hand and saw a red rose with silver leaves and stem. He smiled. She was here with him. All along. 

A long chapter for all of you! I am terribly sorry for not updating so frequently. I am going through really hard times right now. I have so many things to do—things that need to live up to expectations. But I hope this chapter was enough to make up for all the time I didn't update. I'm not going to promise to update because I might not be able to keep that promise. I hate breaking promises. Anyway, thank you so much for reading and supporting me.

Love,

A very tired Iris