Chapter 20 - Matvei
The hotel room was empty.
Matvei stood in the doorway, staring at the rumpled bed where Irina had been just hours before. Her scent still lingered in the air, that subtle combination of jasmine and something uniquely her that had become as essential to him as breathing. But she was gone. Again.
This time, she’d been thorough. No discarded clothing, no forgotten belongings, no trace of where she might have gone. Even her phone was completely dead, not just turned off. She’d learned from her previous escape attempts.
“Sir?” One of his men appeared behind him, uncertainty written across his face. “Any orders?”
“Find her.” The words came out like shards of glass. “I don’t care what it takes. Tear this city apart if you have to.”
The first day, he was methodical. Professional. He deployed his resources with the cold efficiency that had built his empire. Every hotel, every safe house, every contact in the city. His men worked in shifts, following every lead, no matter how thin.
The second day, the methodical approach gave way to desperation. He personally visited locations, interrogated sources, and called in favors from people he’d sworn never to contact again. Still nothing.
By the third day, he was unraveling.
“What do you mean you can’t find her?” he roared at his head of security, slamming his fist on the desk hard enough to send papers flying. “She’s one woman. One fucking woman in a city full of cameras and witnesses and you’re telling me she just vanished?”
“Sir, with respect, she knows our methods. She’s been watching how we operate for weeks. She knows exactly how to avoid detection.”
The logic was sound, but it only made his fury burn hotter. Because it was true, he’d taught her those methods himself, shown her how his security worked, and trusted her with information about his operations. And now she was using it all against him.
“Then try harder,” he snarled. “Double the men. Triple them. I want her found.”
His security chief shifted uncomfortably. “Sir, we’ve already checked with her family. They claim they haven’t seen her.”
“They’re lying.”
“Maybe. But if they are, they’re good at it. And, Sir...” The man hesitated. “Maybe we should consider that she doesn’t want to be found.”
The words hit Matvei like a physical blow. He turned away, staring out the window at the city that had somehow swallowed the only person who mattered to him.
She didn’t want to be found. She’d rather disappear completely than face him, than give him a chance to explain. The realization cut deeper than any blade could have.
By the fourth day, the rage had burned itself out, leaving behind something much worse. A hollow ache that seemed to consume him from the inside out. He stopped eating, stopped sleeping properly, stopped caring about the business that had once been his entire world.
His brothers tried to intervene. Simon cornered him in his office on day five, demanding to know what the hell was wrong with him.
“You look like death,” Simon said bluntly, studying Matvei’s haggard appearance. “When’s the last time you slept? Ate something?”
“I’m fine.”
“Bullshit. This is about the Nikolai girl, isn’t it?”
The casual dismissal of Irina as “the Nikolai girl” made something savage rise in Matvei’s chest. “Her name is Irina.”
“Fine. Irina. But Matvei, she’s just one woman. There are others...”
“Get out.” The words were quiet, deadly. “Get out before I do something we’ll both regret.”
Simon left, but not before giving him a look that said he thought his older brother had completely lost his mind. Maybe he had. Maybe sanity was overrated anyway.
On day six, Anka showed up at his office unannounced. She took one look at him and shook her head in disgust.
“You look terrible.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.”
“Have you considered that maybe she needs time? That pushing so hard to find her might be exactly the wrong approach?”
“She’s my wife.”
“She’s a woman you bought at an auction to destroy her family,” Anka said bluntly. “Maybe she has good reasons for running.”
The words were like salt in an open wound. “You don’t understand.”
“I understand better than you think.” Her voice softened slightly. “But Matvei, you can’t force someone to love you. You can’t hunt them down and expect them to fall into your arms, grateful for the attention.”
“I just want to talk to her. To explain.”
“Explain what? That you planned to use her as a weapon against her own family? That you married her under false pretenses?” Anka’s brown eyes were sad but unflinching. “Some things can’t be explained away.”
That night, alone in the mansion that felt too big and too empty without her, Matvei finally allowed himself to face the truth he’d been avoiding. This was his fault. All of it. He’d made choices, cruel and calculated choices, and now he was paying the price.
He’d told himself it was just business, that she was just a means to an end.
But somewhere along the way, she’d become everything.
Her laugh, her stubborn defiance, the way she’d curled up against him in sleep like she trusted him completely.
The way she’d taken care of him without asking questions, offering comfort when he’d needed it most.
He loved her. Had probably been falling in love with her since that first night when she’d signed the marriage license without hesitation, matching his expectations with her own brand of fearless calculation.
And he’d lost her. Driven her away with his lies and manipulations and the weight of his original intentions.
By day seven, he’d stopped trying to find her. What was the point? She was smart, resourceful, and apparently better at disappearing than his entire security team was at tracking. If she wanted to stay hidden, she would.
He was sitting in his office, staring at reports he couldn’t focus on, when a guard knocked on the door.
“Sir? There’s someone here to see you.”
“I’m not taking meetings today.”
“Sir, I think you’ll want to take this one.”
Something in his tone made Matvei look up. “Who is it?”
But he already knew. Could feel it in the sudden shift in the air, the way his entire body went on alert. She was here.
“Send her in.”
Irina walked into his office like she owned it, shoulders back, chin raised in that defiant way that had first caught his attention.
But there were differences. She was thinner, with shadows under her eyes that spoke of sleepless nights.
Her usual confidence was there, but it felt brittle somehow, like armor that might crack under pressure.
“We need to talk,” she said without preamble.
“Irina.” Her name came out rougher than he’d intended. Seven days of not knowing if he’d ever see her again had left him raw. “Where have you been?”
“That’s not important.”
“It is to me.” He stood, wanting to go to her but not sure if he’d be welcome. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“I know. Your men aren’t as subtle as they think they are.” She moved to the chair across from his desk but didn’t sit. “But that’s not why I’m here.”
“Then why are you here?”
She took a breath, and he could see her gathering her courage. “Because we both deserve the truth. All of it.”
The words hung between them, loaded with implications. Matvei felt something shift in his chest, hope and terror warring for dominance.
“Okay,” he said carefully. “The truth.”
“You bought me at that auction to destroy my family.” It wasn’t a question. “The kidnapping, the whole thing, it was all planned from the beginning.”
“Yes.”
She flinched slightly at his blunt confirmation, but pressed on. “You partnered with the same people who hurt Azriel, who terrorized my sister-in-law.”
“Yes.”
“You married me knowing you planned to use me as a weapon against the people I love most in this world.”
Each word was like a knife twist, but he forced himself to meet her eyes. “Yes.”
“Good.” Her voice was steady, but he could see her hands trembling slightly. “Now it’s my turn.”
He waited, hardly daring to breathe.
“I stayed,” she said quietly, “because I was planning to betray you too.”
The admission shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did. He’d suspected as much, especially after Viktor’s appearance at his warehouse, but hearing her say it was different.
“I thought I could gather information, find a way to help my family destroy you first.” She laughed bitterly. “I told myself I was being smart, playing the long game. That I could pretend to be your dutiful wife while secretly working against you.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.” She finally sat down, like the admission had taken something out of her. “I couldn’t. Because somewhere along the way, you stopped being the enemy. You became... You became someone I cared about.”
The words hit him like a physical blow. “Irina...”
“I’m not finished.” Her ice blue eyes were bright with unshed tears. “When I ran away, I kept trying to hate you. Kept reminding myself of what you’d planned, how you’d deceived me. But I couldn’t stop thinking about other things, too.”
“What things?”
“The way you taught me self-defense with so much patience, even when I was terrible at it. How you stayed with me when I was sick, took care of me without asking for anything in return. How you light up when you talk about your family, especially your sisters.” Her voice broke slightly.
“How you hold me at night like I’m something precious. ”
Matvei felt his composure cracking. “Irina, please. Let me explain.”
“I’m trying to.” She wiped at her eyes angrily. “I’m trying to tell you that even knowing what you planned, even knowing how it started, I can’t make myself stop caring about you. And I hate myself for it.”
“Why?”
“Because how can I trust my own feelings? How do I know what’s real and what’s just manipulation? How do I know you’re not still playing some long game I don’t understand?”
The question hung between them, and Matvei realized this was his chance. Maybe his only chance to tell her the truth. All of it.
“Because I’m not,” he said simply. “Because the plan fell apart the moment I actually got to know you.”
She looked at him skeptically. “Convenient.”
“Is it?” He leaned forward, willing her to believe him. “Do you think it’s convenient that I’ve spent the last week losing my mind trying to find you? That I’ve barely slept or eaten because the thought of never seeing you again was killing me?”
“Pretty words...”
“Fuck pretty words.” The vehemence in his voice surprised them both. “You want the truth? Here it is. Yes, I bought you to destroy your family. Yes, it was calculated and cold and everything you think it was. But Irina, that plan died the first night you took care of me.”
“What?”
“When you washed my hair in the shower, when you made me eat something, when you sat with me until I fell asleep.” His voice was rough with emotion. “No one had done that for me since I was a child. And you did it without expecting anything in return, without even knowing if I deserved it.”
She was staring at him now, something shifting in her expression.
“I kept telling myself it was still about the plan. That I could use your kindness, your growing feelings, to my advantage. But every day it got harder. Every time you laughed at something I said, every time you challenged me or defended me or just existed in my space, the plan became less important.”
“When did it stop being important at all?”
“When Dmitri threatened to hurt you.” The memory still made his blood run cold.
“When he talked about using you, hurting you to get to your brothers, and I wanted to kill him with my bare hands. That’s when I knew I was done.
That I’d choose you over the plan, over my family’s ambitions, over everything. ”
Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks now. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“Because I’m telling you things that make me look like the worst kind of bastard.
Because I’m giving you every reason to walk away and never look back.
” He stood, needing to be closer to her.
“Because if I were still playing games, I’d be telling you what you want to hear, not the ugly truth about what I planned and how I felt. ”
She looked up at him, and he saw the war being fought behind her eyes. Love and hurt and hope and fear all tangled together.
“I wanted to hate you,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“I tried so hard to convince myself that none of it was real.”
“But it was real.” He knelt beside her chair, taking her hands in his. “Maybe it started as something else, but what we have now, what we’ve built together, that’s real. The way you make me laugh, the way you challenge me, the way you fit in my arms like you were made for me. That’s all real.”
“Matvei...”
“I love you.” The words came out raw, desperate.
“I love your stubborn streak and your quick mind and the way you refuse to back down from anything. I love that you see the best in people, even when they don’t deserve it.
I love that you took care of me when I was falling apart and didn’t ask for explanations I couldn’t give. ”
She was sobbing now, and he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
“I love you too,” she said finally, and his heart stopped. “God help me, I love you too. Even knowing everything, even knowing how it started, I can’t stop loving you.”
He pulled her into his arms then, holding her tight against his chest while she cried. For the first time in seven days, he felt like he could breathe again.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “I’m so fucking sorry for all of it. For the lies, for the plan, for putting you in an impossible position.”
“I’m sorry too,” she said against his chest. “For running away instead of talking to you. For not trusting that what we had was real.”
They held each other in the quiet of his office, two broken people trying to figure out how to build something whole from the wreckage of their lies and good intentions.
“Where do we go from here?” she asked finally.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I know I want to try. If you’ll let me, if you can forgive me for how this started, I want to try to build something real with you.”
She pulled back to look at him, and he saw something like hope in her tear-stained face.
“It won’t be easy,” she said.
“Nothing worthwhile ever is.”
“My family...”
“We’ll figure it out. Together.”
She searched his face for a long moment, and he let her see everything. The love, the regret, the desperate hope that she wouldn’t walk away again.
“Okay,” she said finally. “Let’s try.”
And for the first time in seven days, Matvei allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, love could triumph over the worst kind of beginning.