Mom Picked Her Golden Child

Mom jumped in fast. "Exactly. These apartments are OUR property. We can give them to whoever we want. Anya, your father and I aren't even dead yet, and you're already pushing him to take everything we built?"

Take what, exactly? What did she think Pavel was gonna snatch?

If anything, it was always Pavel slipping them money whenever we had a little extra.

I let out a dry laugh. "If you don't like it, take both of them with you. Take the apartments too. I don't care."

I stood up. Mom shouted after me, "What kind of attitude is that? Whether you get the apartments or not, we're still your parents. You OWE us!"

Pavel rushed in with a fruit plate, wiping his hands on his apron, trying to calm things down.

"Adrian, Milena, please don't be upset. I know Chris is doing well, but we'll manage on our end."

Watching him bend like that made my chest ache.

Last time, he even gave up our master bedroom. The three of us crammed into one tiny room, and he never said a word.

Eva didn't even have space for a desk—just hunched over the coffee table every day to do her homework.

Not again. I'm not letting them live like that again.

Mom didn't spare him a glance. Just snorted, "If you were good enough to go overseas, Adrian and I wouldn't have to live apart like this."

Pavel stood there, speechless.

Chris? He was sprawled on the couch, totally relaxed. Every now and then, he'd ask when Katerina was leaving—clearly waiting to hit the hotel spa or whatever.

The impatience was all over his face.

Mom kept shoving fruit at him. "Chris, eat more. You work so hard—always thinking."

He flicked the cherries aside and stood up. Katerina jumped in, all business. "Milena, if you're coming to Amiraka with me, you need at least $500K. Otherwise, I can't even help you get residency."

I stood too. "Dad, if you're moving in with me, don't come empty-handed. Bring one apartment."

Mom shot me a vicious glare, like she couldn't believe I'd finally stopped being a doormat.

She was locked in on running off with Katerina. In one sharp move, she bolted for the kitchen, grabbed a cleaver, and pressed it to her neck.

"Anya, if you don't sell both apartments, I'll die right here," she yelled. "I'll make sure everyone knows what an ungrateful daughter you are!"