He moved forward with bated breath, rising onto his toes to stretch fully. His fingers danced across the top of the lip, meeting dust and other fine particles. He slid them over, gliding along the shelf… as hope began to dwindle as they neared the edge, he felt the twang of a metal object placed there.
Clutched within his hand, he brought it down and revealed a little black key.
Giddy with worry, he placed it into the lock of the desk draw and turned—the click that proceeded was a sound of most satisfaction to Juraj.
The drawer slid open easily, and what he then found inside confirmed his deepest fears and suspicions. He had desperately hoped to have been wrong.
Taking the object from inside, clutched inside his hand, he opened it to reveal a most magnificent brooch, bronze and bright. It had a perfect golden pin.
Engraved into the enamel deeply, it proclaimed: Pro toho, koho miluji.
‘There you are,’ spoke a voice behind him, soft and sweetly.
He heard the door close shut, and as he turned to greet the voice he slipped the brooch quietly into his pocket.
‘Anita,’ he spoke with a slight gulp, feeling the sweat profusely begin to build up under his clothes.
‘My dear Juraj, my love—I missed you so.’
Anita’s blue eyes were wide and full of joy and glee, her arms opened, cooing and inviting him fondly to embrace her.
Shocked, Juraj obeyed.
‘Juraj? What is it?’ she quizzed, her face fraught now with concern for his lack of affection and excitement now they were alone.
‘I—’ Juraj starting, shaking at first… afraid, frightened, but then suddenly, with a burst of courage and strength, he spoke more clearly, more directly—intently he looked at her directly in the eyes, his face stern and serious. ‘I didn’t know you had a brother.’
Her wide smile slowly retreated into a flat grimace. Sweeping her hand through her blonde hair that rested just above her shoulders, she gave him an apathetic look of confusion.
‘Brother?’ she questioned, playing the part of the fool, as she did not yet know what Juraj did. He had seen too much, been through too much, and had long grown tired of the cat-and-mouse game. The chase was over.
‘You…’ he began, his voice raised with temper, flushed and hot, his collar becoming all the more tighter. Heart beating faster, his pulse raced and the world started to spin dizzily. ‘You have no idea, do you? The pain you’ve caused, the suffering…’
Anita looked genuinely shocked. ‘Juraj, my sweet, everything I have done, I did it for you—for us!’ she spoke with a twisted look of satisfaction in her eyes, stroking her arms, unsure of his reaction and what may happen next.
‘Milos is dead,’ Juraj started. ‘Edgar is dead!’ Each word more pronounced and forceful than the last. ‘And,’ he said, looking at her with full force and speaking with absolute certainty, ‘Vladislav is dead.’
Anita gasped, clutching at her chest. Tears started to well up from within her and they swiftly proceeded to manifest out of the corners of her eyes. She looked around the room helplessly, desperate for anything to assure her it was not so.
‘It hurts, doesn’t it, Anita? To know your brother is dead,’ Juraj bellowed, his voice stronger now than ever before. The rage inside him was untamed, vengeance growing stricter within him, replacing any prior feelings of affection or attachment to the monster before him. Her eyes now displayed the same fear and futility Vladislav’s had. Juraj recognized them clearly now. The deep blue wells of crystal shards within spoke the same expression of acceptance and inevitability.
Dropping to her knees and arms flayed to her side, swinging without purpose, she looked up at him with a merciful plea.
‘How?’ she whispered.
‘He died to protect you, Anita… to hold your secret, our secret.’
‘Vladislav was only meant to update me of anything he might have overheard… to warn me if Edgar worked it out,’ she cried, her face reddened and wet.
‘That is not how it played out, Anita,’ Juraj spat. ‘Edgar had you figured out. He was onto you and about to inform Moscow, but your brother put a stop to him first. He protected your secret, and then took his own life to preserve it.’
Anita sniffed, wiping her nose with her sleeve, processing the nobility of her brother. A murderer nonetheless, but a noble hero to her mind. Dying to protect me, she thought, how wonderful his love for me was.
Juraj grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her into standing upright. Hands still gripped tight on her, he looked at her directly once more. A furnace burned a searing white-hot fire within his eyes—a monster may have been born within Juraj yet.
‘There is still one part of all this I don’t understand. Why Anita? What wrong had Peter done to you?’
Anita gave a slight smile, sadistic and tortuous, her eyes beaming with delight. He had no idea. ‘My dear, sweet Juraj,’ she began, ‘I was protecting you from Peter.’
Juraj felt the blood leaving his face, his world spinning around himself once more. What madness did she now speak?
‘Liar!’ he protested. ‘Do not dare curse his name with such falseness. Peter loved me dearly.’
Still clutching her, he shook her as he spoke, but he began losing control of himself. Feeling weak, he quickly sat on the bed, squeaking and hawking as he did so.
‘Juraj,’ she started gently, almost with a whisper, ‘Peter was madly in love with me—everybody knows this. He was never shy of professing to people this
