34. Alice
34
ALICE
I ’m still trying to catch my breath. My body feels warm and heavy, a languid ache lingering in every muscle. The silk sheets cling to my sweaty skin as I lie there, tucked between them—my three men.
They’ve collapsed around me, arms and legs tangling with mine.
My hand moves absentmindedly over my belly, my fingers tracing light, aimless patterns on the skin.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself. I’ve been waiting for the right time, but the moment never seems to come. Now, with them here, still basking in the afterglow, it feels like I might finally have the courage to say it.
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you,” I start, my voice quiet but steady.
Dmitri glances over, a faint smile playing on his lips. “What is it?”
I hesitate, my fingers stilling on my stomach. “It’s…about us.”
Ivan shifts slightly, his expression hardening just enough for me to notice. Nikolai, however, looks at me with something close to curiosity, his head tilting slightly.
Before I can continue, Nikolai speaks. “Alice,” he says softly, but there’s a heaviness to his tone that makes my chest tighten. “We’ve been talking…and there’s something we need to tell you too.”
I frown, glancing between them. “What is it?”
Nikolai hesitates, and I can see the conflict in his eyes.
“Things have gotten worse with Vadim. We can’t risk?—”
Dmitri finishes for him, crossing his arms over his chest. “We can’t risk you getting caught in the middle.”
Alarm shoots through me. My pulse jumps, and I sit up, clutching the sheets to my chest. “What does that mean?”
They exchange another look, and Nikolai exhales, running a hand through his hair. “We’re sending you away, Alice. Somewhere safe.”
I stare at him, my mind blanking. “Sending me…away?”
“It’s for your own safety,” Ivan says, his voice calm but resolute. “With everything that’s happening, you’ve become a liability.”
A liability. The word cuts deeper than I expect, and I feel a knot forming in my throat. “You think I’m a liability?”
Dmitri leans forward, his tone more gentle but no less firm. “Alice, it’s not like that. We just need to keep you out of harm’s way.
“You can’t risk it?” I repeat, my voice trembling. “You mean to tell me this has nothing to do with the fact that I doubted Sergei? You’re sending me away because you don’t trust me.”
“That’s not true,” Nikolai says quickly, reaching out as if to touch my arm, but I pull back.
“Isn’t it?” I ask, looking at him, then at Ivan and Dmitri. “If you trusted me, you wouldn’t be doing this. I see it in your eyes, you know? You can’t lie to me.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
“I’ve given everything to you,” I say, my voice breaking. “I’ve let myself fall for you—fall in love with you—and this is how you repay me? By sending me away? By telling me I’m a liability?”
Three pairs of eyes snap to me. I regret the words the moment they leave my mouth. Yes, I’ve fallen in love—with all three of them, something that took me a lot of time to admit to myself. And now it’s out in the open…like a festering wound.
Then they all look away. And I have my answer with a sinking stomach. They don’t feel the same.
My heart thunders in my chest, waiting—praying—for one of them to say something back. Anything .
But no one speaks.
My mouth feels dry, my cheeks hot with embarrassment and fury all at once. I realize, belatedly, what I’ve just confessed. I love them— all of them . And they have no reply. Not even a platitude or a half-hearted echo of what I feel.
I clap my hand to my mouth, as if I can take the words back. The silence is unbearable, a crushing weight that makes my stomach twist.
Nikolai finally meets my gaze, and I see the guilt in his eyes. “Alice, it’s not what you think. We just want to protect you.”
“Protect me?” I laugh bitterly, the sound harsh even to my own ears. “You’re doing this for yourselves. Don’t pretend this is about me.”
“We’re trying to keep you safe, Alice. This is the only way, without losing you,” Ivan says.
“But you’re losing me anyway,” I snap, tears stinging my eyes. “Don’t you see that? You’re pushing me away because you’re scared, and you’re too damn proud to admit it.”
“You have to see it that way we do, be practical,” Nikolai insists.
I snort. “Was that always the plan? To fuck me and throw me away?”
“Alice—” Dmitri says.
“What? Am I lying?” I hate the way my voice rises with every word.
I feel the anger bubbling up from somewhere deep, a raw, painful kind of rage born of betrayal. If they can’t even acknowledge what I said, then what was all of this for?
My body trembles, tears threatening to spill, but I fight them back, refusing to break down in front of them again. I straighten my spine, crossing my arms over my chest as I swallow the knot in my throat.
“Get out,” I say finally, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to sound strong.
Nikolai opens his mouth, maybe to protest, but I lift my chin and glare at him. “All of you,” I add, gesturing toward the door. “Leave me alone.”
For a second, none of them move. Dmitri clears his throat, looking like he wants to say something, but I shake my head, my resolve hardening.
They file out in silence, the door clicking shut behind them.
I sit down on the edge of the bed, still wrapped in a sheet. My mind spins, replaying the last few minutes, the confession that slipped from my lips and the echoing silence that followed. They couldn’t even give me a word in return.
I wake to a dull ache in my chest, a throbbing reminder of last night’s heartbreak.
I slip out of bed, still wrapped in a robe, and make my way downstairs, the house eerily quiet. I’m not really sure what I’m looking for—a reprieve, maybe, or some kind of closure—but instead, I find Nikolai in the living room.
He’s standing by the window, a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. At first, I think they’re for decoration, until he notices me and walks over, holding them out. “Morning,” he says quietly, offering a weak smile.
I hesitate, studying the bouquet. Lilies, my favorite, alongside some vibrant daisies. A stark contrast to the tension lingering in the air. “Morning,” I reply, my voice hoarse with leftover tears.
He presses the flowers into my hands. “I…wanted to say I’m sorry about last night.” His gaze flicks up to meet mine, uncertainty in his eyes. “It came out harsher than we intended.”
“It always does,” I mutter, hugging the bouquet against my chest. The scent is almost overwhelming, sweet and cloying, like an apology I can’t quite accept yet.
Nikolai exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “We didn’t plan for it to sound so…final. We just—” He breaks off, glancing toward the hallway. “Things are complicated. Vadim’s pressing in, and we’re under a lot of pressure.”
I snort softly, bitterness rising. “So you assume I’m working with him? Because that’s what it sounded like last night—you’re sending me away because you think I might be a traitor.”
He grimaces. “It’s not that simple. We don’t want to think you’re involved with Vadim, but it’s hard to ignore how everything lines up. We just can’t take any chances.”
My grip tightens on the flowers, the stems digging into my palms. “So you’re punishing me for your suspicions,” I say quietly. “Assuming the worst because it’s convenient.”
Nikolai steps closer, shaking his head. “We’re not punishing you. This is about keeping you safe, whether you believe that or not.”
I laugh, a hollow sound. “Safe? From you, or from Vadim? Because right now it feels like I need safety from everyone.”
“Look,” he says softly, “I know you’re hurt. But you can’t just leave. That’s not going to happen.” Before I can protest, he holds up a hand. “You’re going to be taken somewhere secure until this blows over.”
The baby feels like a lead weight inside me, a secret I can’t bring myself to share. “I want to quit,” I say bluntly. “I don’t want this job anymore. I don’t need your protection. I just want to go.”
He looks stricken by my words.
“You’re not quitting,” he says firmly. “And you’re not leaving on your own. There’s too much at stake—for you, and for us.”
My eyes burn with unshed tears as I clutch the flowers tighter, the petals trembling. Part of me wants to scream at him, to tell him what I’ve been hiding, to hurl the truth in his face so he’ll realize how unfair this all is. But I can’t. Not when their trust is so fragile—if it exists at all.
“This isn’t love,” I whisper, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “It’s control.”
He stiffens, pain flickering over his features. “Alice, please?—”
“Just go,” I murmur, my voice cracking. “I need some time to think.”
He hesitates, but the finality in my tone must register, because he nods slowly and backs away. As he disappears down the hall, I stare at the bouquet in my arms, a hollow ache throbbing in my chest.
The afternoon sun feels almost oppressive, casting harsh lines across the balcony where I stand, Elena’s phone clutched in my hand. I’m staring down at the courtyard below, watching Sergei move with his usual precision—quiet, unreadable, and undeniably intimidating.
I tighten my grip on the phone, my thoughts churning. Ever since Luka confided in me about Sergei being there during Elena’s accident—about how he pulled Luka out of the car and brought him back—I can’t stop wondering what else Sergei has kept hidden. Did he see the accident happen? Did he have something to do with it? Why hasn’t he ever mentioned it?
And why is everyone so damn sure he’s beyond suspicion?
I flick my gaze down to the phone’s screen. The messages I found on Elena’s hidden phone all those weeks ago run through my mind.
I’ve gone over them so many times the words feel burned into my memory. Now, with everything spiraling, the suspicion around me, the baby they don’t even know about, I’m desperate for a way out. A way to prove I’m not the traitor they think I am.
If only I could prove Sergei’s involvement…
The idea strikes me like a flash of lightning. If Sergei is the one behind that unknown number—or involved somehow—I can force his hand. My heart thrums in my chest as I navigate the old phone’s menu, pulling up the message thread. It’s a risk, a huge one, but at this point, what do I have to lose?
I glance around, making sure no one’s watching. The balcony is secluded, shielded by a high stone railing, and the courtyard below is busy enough that no one looks up. Sergei is out of earshot for now, pacing near the far corner where the guards usually gather. If he’s the one who picks up, that’ll be all the proof I need.
With a shaky breath, I press the call button.
The phone rings, an old, tinny sound that makes my nerves spike. I watch Sergei below, searching for any sign that he’s about to answer his own phone, a pocket buzz, a sudden movement. My heart pounds, counting each ring, waiting for him to pause, to reach for his phone, to do anything.
My pulse is hammering, and my palms grow slick with sweat against the cold metal of the phone. On the fourth ring, the line clicks.
He picked up.
But Sergei doesn’t move. He’s still pacing, talking to a guard, not even glancing at his phone. Then I realize—the voice in my ear isn’t Sergei at all. It’s low, calm, and so close it sends a shiver down my spine.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” the voice says, eerily gentle.
A chill runs through me. I spin around, the phone slipping from my hand and hitting the stone balcony with a dull thud. Standing there, in the shadows at the edge of the balcony, is Alexei.