by A. E. King
Cruel Compassion
Insurrection Series Book 1
A.E. King
Copyright © 2021 by A.E. King
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Book Cover Design by ebooklaunch.com
Editing by https://eschlerediting.com/
For Sasha, the random stranger, who rescued me when I was lost wandering the streets of Voronezh.
And for Stephen who loves me enough to like everything I write.
Also for my sons who I may never convince to read this book.
Contents
Prologue: Yelena Bituskaya St Petersburg, Новая Россия
Chapter 1: Yulia Bituskaya Saint Petersburg, Новая Россия 10 years later
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18: Moscow, Новая Россия
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22: Saint Petersburg, Новая Россия
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25: Moscow, Новая Россия
Chapter 26
Chapter 27: Nizhny Novgorod, Новая Россия
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30: Kazan, Новая Россия
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36: Samara, Новая Россия
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43: Dragovich Compound, Omsk, Новая Россия
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Coming Soon: Rising Shadows
Prologue: Yelena Bituskaya St Petersburg, Новая Россия
Yelena Bituskaya waited anxiously on the front steps of the ancient Petergof Palace, ignoring.
Yelena ignored everything these days. She blocked out the hum of the surveillance drones, the camera flashes of the propaganda news, and the steadily increasing number of rules and restrictions imposed for the “good of society.” But more than anything, she ignored the constant sickness in her stomach. Anxiety colored everything she did like a shadow that darkened even the brightest moments.
She had been aching to see the boys for months. She hated their school, designed to harden boys into men who felt nothing but lust for power. She longed for every break so she could gather them into her care. After each holiday, she took comfort knowing that she could still revive their humanity and awaken their hope.
But they were getting older now. Dima had his seventeenth birthday at school. Sasha would turn seventeen this summer. At some point, boys become men, and she worried whether her influence would be enough when contrasted with the power and privileges her husband laid at their feet. Power was enticing. She knew better than anyone how it can draw you in and then entangle you completely.
“Mama, it’s 10:05. Where are they?” Yulia stood on her tiptoes, searching down the driveway for any sign of their car.
At fifteen, Yulia was just beginning to leave behind her gangly phase and catch up to her height. She was on the verge of stunning and would soon be a rare beauty. The media was beginning to take notice, and every time they did Yelena wished she could hide her away. Yulia’s true beauty was so much deeper than they would ever give her credit for. Society didn’t deserve her. She wasn’t raising Yulia for the red carpets; she was raising her for the people. But Yelena wouldn’t be able to keep her out of the spotlight for much longer.
Yulia changed her outfit multiple times today, fussed over her hair and applied extra makeup. Yelena suspected the extra effort wasn’t for her brother Sasha.
Zhenya stood with the other servants and gave Yelena a knowing look. Zhenya always seemed to observe more than Yelena could. Apperantly she wasn’t imagining things.
Yulia had always idolized Sasha and Dima. Growing up, she wanted to do everything the boys did. But then the subtle shift happened. Dima stood a little taller when he made jokes in front of Yulia. Yulia looked at the ground and blushed when Dima entered the room. Little things only a mother would notice.
If circumstances were different, Yelena would be delighted to see this young affection blossoming. They’d had a special bond ever since Dima came to live with them. But things were not different. Times were not better. If anything they were worse.
“Darling, they’ve already arrived on the property. We’re just waiting for your father to finish his meeting so we can greet them together.” Yelena rubbed her hand down her daughter’s braid, marveling at how the sun glinted across her blond hair.
Yelena had been so sure she could keep them safe, fulfill her mission, and bring brighter days to her nation. Now she wasn’t sure of anything. Nothing felt safe. No one was beyond his reach.
A dark cloud settled over Yelena’s heart as her husband stormed down the steps toward them. He fumed. “I told them to be here at 10 am sharp.”
The hairs on the back of Yelena’s neck bristled, and Yulia stepped farther away, leaving space for her father’s rage.
Yelena smiled brightly at Vladimir. “We were just waiting for you so the photographers could get their shot. They’re running a feature tonight about Sasha returning from school.”
Vladimir huffed, and Yelena clamped down her disgust and brushed the creases out of his suit coat. She ran her hands down his lapel and pulled him into a kiss. “Darling, you look wonderful today,” she lied. “Won’t it be lovely to have the whole family together again? Maybe we can spend some time at the lakes this summer?”
Vladimir’s eyes brightened, and he wrapped his arm around her like a snake squeezing the life out of its prey before devouring it completely. He looked down at her, not with love in his eyes but with dominion.
He kissed her, and the cameras trained on them. The ruler of Novaya Russiya, and his perfect family were always popular segments on the nightly propaganda news.
“Come to my room tonight.” Vladimir brushed a piece of Yelena’s blonde hair behind her ear and gave her a greasy smile that made her stomach turn. “And then next week you can take the kids to the lake. I’m busy, but I could spare you for a week.”
Of course he could. He’d have her tonight and then send her away so he could engage his other women without having to sneak them in and out of the palace. Some of them were barely older than Yulia.
“That sounds lovely.” Yelena smiled back, and another piece of her soul crushed beneath his gaze. She wondered how there was anything left for him to hurt.
“Here comes the car.” Yelena directed his attention to the black sedan driving down the lane. “Yulia, come here.” She positioned herself between the two
of them, a tactic she employed so often. She rubbed Yulia’s back, reminding her not to slouch, and gave her brightest smile for the cameras.
Sasha bounded out of the car, his blond hair tousled and uniform untucked. The cameras turned to him, and he gave them a cocky smile. She knew that cocky smile. She saw it on her husband when she was first assigned to him. Fear filled her insides.
The photographers called for Sasha. The media loved him these days. He was charismatic, larger than life, and loved the spotlight. So the spotlight loved him back. He took nothing seriously, including school, but he somehow managed to win everyone over.
But it wasn’t Sasha that captured Yelena’s attention today; he could distract the cameras and his father. And it wasn’t Yulia’s clear infatuation.
It was Dima.
Yelena had raised the boy since his parent’s murder. She loved him like a son. But the way he looked at Yulia sent dread pulsing through her.
Dima looked at Yulia like she was the sun he would orbit for all eternity. What had she missed? When did a fledgling teenage romance morph into devotion like this? Dima was clearly in love with Yulia. Yelena recognized it immediately because it was the look she longed for but had never seen in the eyes of any man she had been assigned to.
“You could have tucked in your shirt,” Vladimir grumbled to Sasha. “All I heard of you this year were your run-ins with the headmaster.”
“Good to see you too, Papa.” Sasha held out his hand and Vladimir took it, squeezing harder than necessary.
Sasha rolled his eyes, but Yelena knew how much these interactions cut. She wrapped her son in her arms, trying to tell him how wrong his father was without saying a word.
“Good marks this year, Dimitri.” Vladimir gave Dima a quick handshake and then looked down at his portable device to see the time.
“All right then,” Vladimir announced to everyone. “Quickly now. I’ve got to get back to work.”
Dima moved to the bottom of the stairs, out of the way, and Yelena’s heart panged over Vladimir’s slight. But no one argued. No one ever argued with Vladimir.
Zhenya wrapped Dima in her arms, welcoming him home. And Yelena was grateful again for the woman who always stood by her side.
“Don’t be late for dinner,” Vladimir announced to the children. “Your mother and I have plans tonight.”
He smiled at her as though his attention was a gift before turning back into the palace.
Yelena opened her arms and gave the three teenagers her brightest smile, pushing aside her darkness for a moment in order to offer them some light. She gathered them in as she had done so many times before, arms wrapped around each other, kissing their cheeks.
The cameras were still trained on them, and Yelena wished she could shoo them away. This was not for them. They didn’t deserve anything so real when they refused to run anything close to the truth.
“End-of-term presents!” Yelena announced, feeling guilty once again. If she couldn’t give them a father who loved them, she would give them expensive things to keep them distracted. It had worked when they were little. It didn’t work anymore.
“Sasha, go get settled in, and have your sister help you unpack. Your present will come after dinner. I’ll be up in a few minutes. First I need to show Dima his end of term gift.”
“It better be good. He was top of class this year.” Sasha ruffled Dima’s dark curls. “Suck up.” He laughed.
“Well, I’m sure he can show you tonight after dinner. You may even want to take it out together,” Yelena hinted, and both boys looked at her hungrily. “Go, get settled in. I’m so happy to have you all together.”
She pulled them in one more time, holding the pieces of her heart in her arms. Sasha rolled his eyes. “Don’t cry about it, Mama.”
Yelena sniffed and laughed. “Mothers are allowed to cry when their sons come home!”
“Davay, top-of-the-class-Dimitri Mikhaelovich.” She grabbed his hand, and he smiled expectantly.
“Mama, what is it?” Yulia begged. “Can’t we come too?”
“Not yet, my loves.” Yelena laughed, and it almost felt real.
Yelena walked Dima around the grounds to the garage. She could feel his excitement building as he started to hope but wouldn’t let himself expect in a way that was classic Dima.
“Come here, son.” She placed her hands around his eyes and led him through the door into the garage.
“Syurpriz.” She released her hands and watched his eyes widen as he took in the shiny new SUV. “I heard you learned to drive this year.”
“Yelena, this is too much.” He ran his hand down the side of the car longingly.
She waved him away. “Vladimir doesn’t let any of us drive. But he wasn’t opposed to you driving. I thought this might make it so you and Sasha could get a taste of freedom every now and then. And maybe come home to see me more often.”
He gave her a hug, and her heart tugged as she contemplated what she was about to ask of him. It would be even harder than she had originally realized.
“I get the first ride,” she told him as she smiled and opened the passenger door.
Dima slid into the driver’s seat and ran his hands over the steering wheel. Yelena talked him through the features of the car as she looked for cameras, microphones, or other surveillance devices. She was right in thinking the car had been delivered too late in the day for the surveillance team to do their job. It would be safe to say what she needed to say.
“Let’s hit the road, shall we?” She waved to the security guard. “We’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”
“Yelena, this is amazing. Thank you so much.” Dima leaned in and kissed her cheek.
She patted his face and felt the weight of shame for everything she had done and everything she would attempt to do. Whether she succeeded or failed, her children would pay for her actions. She should never have taken this assignment. She should never have brought children into this house. She was Icharus. She had flown too close to the sun. And now the ones she loved most would come away scarred and burned.
Dima used voice commands to start the car. He grinned at Yelena as they started onto the road, weaving throughout the Petergof grounds.
“Dima,” Yelena croaked.
He looked at her with concern, recognizing pain in her voice.
She put her hand on his. “I need to ask you something, and I need you to tell me the truth.”
“Of course.” He furrowed his brow, and she sighed.
No one so young should have so much concern. But she pressed forward.
“Are you in love with Yulia?” She watched him carefully.
His eyes grew big, and his ears turned red.
“I don’t . . . It’s not . . .” he stammered.
“Do you love her?” she asked again, more gently.
“Yes.” He looked at the road, not wanting to see disappointment in her eyes when he so desperately wanted her approval. But he wouldn’t lie to her. “I promise we’re not doing anything wrong. I know she’s too young. I just . . . I’ve always loved her. She’s the only one that makes me feel like I’m whole and happy.”
Yelena kept her eyes locked on him and rubbed his hand again, urging him to look at her. Embarrassment and nerves etched themselves into the lines in his forehead. Yelena reached up and smoothed them out.
“Activate auto drive,” she commanded the car and took both of Dima’s hands in hers.
“I need you to do something, and I’m afraid it will be painful and hard.” She tried to be compassionate but watched his face fall.
“I cannot think of a better man to love my daughter. But her life is not hers. And if you truly love her, I need you to promise me something.”
“What?” His dark eyes fixed on Yelena, pleading for her to accept his love for her daughter.
“Keep her safe,” she choked.
“Always,” Dima promised, and Yelena placed her hands on his cheeks, knowing in a way he could not yet understand how much
she asked. And how much he was promising.
“Her safety must come first. That’s how you’ll love her. And Sasha too. Keep them safe.” She pulled him close, wrapping him in her mother’s love and feeling the weight of how she had failed them all. She was asking a child to do what she could not.
Within the year, either she or Vladimir would be dead. And if it was her, someone needed to stand between her children and their murderous father.
I’m sorry, she thought as she placed this second son into the role she wished she had never accepted.
Chapter 1: Yulia Bituskaya Saint Petersburg, Новая Россия 10 years later
I stand beside my fiancé, smiling as he shakes hands with powerful men I either do not know or do not like. We make our way past the men dressed in black and their wives donning white, the colors designated for citizens fortunate and loyal enough to have a citizen score of one.
I strain to see beyond the line of finely tailored suits to the poor, ragged souls dressed in shabby brown behind them. I make eye contact with as many of the nenoozhny as possible, letting them know that I see them even though they likely feel forgotten.
That’s what my father has officially labeled the poor. Nenoozhny. Unnecessary. Unneeded. With a Citizen Score of four, they’re deemed useless to society. While the official system states that everyone has a score reflective of their contribution to society, I can’t ignore the fact that every person who has opposed my father ends up with a four. Or worse, they disappear into the work camps or re-education centers. Once you’ve been given a five, there is no way to improve your score. It is a stain that cannot be removed, and your entire family suffers.
