Chapter 15 Ivan
IVAN
Iheaded straight to the wing of the mansion where I normally stayed. Going home wasn’t in the cards, not with Raisa and my son here. I had to be near them, now that they’d entered—or returned to—my life.
Luka had ample room for us here. Emil, Alexsei, and I all had our own homes and we all owned various properties, but we never hesitated to stop and stay here.
In my room, I paced and warred with this need to compartmentalize all that had been churning up my stomach and messing with my head since Raisa started talking.
She’d been alone all that time.
She’d tried to sever ties to me and our world.
I couldn’t blame her for her reaction to how I’d ended things, but it was way too fucking soon to attempt to explain my reasoning for my lies, why it had been so critical to break it off with her.
“Fucking Konstantin.” I rubbed the back of my head as I scowled at the carpet. Back and forth, I treaded the same linear path.
Raisa’s father was the source of all this hell. He was the reason I’d left her. He was the problem that instigated her to go to such extremes of hiding and living under the radar for years.
The door opened and closed behind me. I didn’t need to turn around and look to see who it was. Only one individual in this building could go into any room with free rein.
Besides, it was just a matter of time for him to seek me out. Luka wanted answers, and I was loath to share them.
Konstantin wasn’t the only one who caused trouble when Raisa and I were together.
My uncle never interfered in our relationship.
He couldn’t have, since I was careful not to mention that I’d happened to meet a Petrov and had fallen for her.
While he was aware after the fact that I’d gotten my heart broken by a woman that summer, he never pressed for more details.
Until now.
I turned and faced him, sighing heavily.
“Ivan?” That was it. One word and that arched brow. He expected me to report to him about why anyone from the Petrov family would be here, and I had to reply.
I cleared my throat, curious and desperate to know how he’d perceive this predicament.
Just how deep does your hatred for Konstantin go?
“You care to explain to me why Konstantin Petrov’s daughter showed up here with a chip on her shoulder, a tendency to strike out at you, and an attempt to hide a son who resembles you?”
“I didn’t know.” I shook my head, hating how hopeless and out of control admitting that to this man, my boss, my uncle, made me feel. Control was something I rarely gave up. In any circumstances, I held on to power, but like this, I was spiraling.
“You didn’t know who she was?” He helped himself to an armchair, sitting calmly while gesturing for me to sit with him.
I couldn’t. Resuming this pacing energy, I moved back and forth and tried to explain. “I didn’t know who she was when we met.”
“She’s the woman from that summer so many years ago.” He could’ve asked it as a question, but he stated it instead.
“Yes. We met in a bar. She was supposed to be a fling. One night of fun among many others, but…” I shrugged. “We clicked. Something about her—something about us—and we couldn’t walk away.”
“She didn’t tell you who she was?” he asked.
“No. I didn’t either. When we realized we couldn’t walk away from each other, we realized that we were from the same world. She admitted to being a Petrov and I explained that I was a Dubinin.”
“And that was the end of it?” he asked with a harsher tone of expectation.
“No.” I glanced at him, almost weirdly amused that my decisions from eight years ago were coming to matter now. “We knew, but we still couldn’t walk away. She was there studying, and I was out partying before furthering my training for the family.”
“Then what happened?” He furrowed his brow. “You came to your senses and met someone else?”
“No.” I stopped, rubbing my temples. “No, I didn’t. I worried that Konstantin would find out about us and hurt her.” That was putting it lightly. “I worried that you would find out after the fact and order me to stay away from her.”
“I would have,” he growled. “Had I fucking known you were knocking up a Petrov.” He narrowed his eyes. “You are well aware of my opinions about that man.”
I nodded. “I am. I was. And it was why I never wanted to reveal who she was and how much she affected me. Because it was a lost cause. I knew that then, but I want to hope it’s not true now.”
He grunted something like a laugh. “You want my blessing to be with her? And her son?”
“My son.”
He shook his head, judging me bluntly. “You walked away from your child and—”
“No.” Cutting off the Boss was stupid, but this mattered too much.
He couldn’t assume the wrong thing now. “I didn’t know.
She didn’t tell me that she was pregnant.
I made the decision to leave her to spare her.
To do the ‘right’ thing and end it before you or her father could order us apart or punish us.
I walked away, and it was the hardest fucking thing I’d ever done.
But I did. I only followed up and sought intel about her after the fact, worried that if she could’ve been pregnant, I could help from afar.
She admitted to faking records of a miscarriage, wanting to hide Lev from her father.
She has been living under the radar and hiding from anyone in the Mafia since he was born. ”
He raised both brows, skeptical. “That’s what she told you?”
I nodded.
“When?”
I frowned. “Tonight. I haven’t seen her or heard from her all these years.”
“And you believe her?”
He was testing me. I knew he was. Considering how quickly and easily Raisa had gotten to me physically, I had to wonder if I was thinking with a level head where she was concerned. Should I believe her?
“I do.” I nodded, wanting to sound confident about that. Because she hadn’t made a peep or shown up all this time, I was inclined to take her word for it that she wanted to be undiscovered by anyone all this time.
“Then why is she here now?”
I opened and closed my mouth.
“Did you manage to keep it in your pants long enough to ask?” he asked wryly.
I hadn’t. “I will.” Heaving out a deep exhale, I prayed that some amount of sleep tonight would have me rested and refreshed to confront her again tomorrow.
“Oh, you will, huh?”
I did a double-take. I couldn’t tell if he was asking if I’d keep it in my pants or if I’d ask her for more answers. “Yes.” Either way, that had to be my reply. Caving to desire wasn’t wise. Not now. Not until the picture was clearer between us.
He stood, sighing. “Get some sleep. We will talk tomorrow.”
“I’ll speak with her again tomorrow.”
“Yes.” He headed toward the door. “You will. Even though she is a Petrov, your son is another matter. Be sure to inquire about her father—if he’s dead or alive.”
“She isn’t sure if he’s still around. She says she cut ties and never looked back.”
He paused, glancing at me over his shoulder. “Until now.”
I nodded. “Until now.” But why? It wasn’t because she missed me and loved me.
“I’ll await the results of your investigation about this matter. Because while she will be here until we have our answers, she is not to be trusted.”
I winced as he saw himself out. This complicated relationship hadn’t been strong enough to make me stay before. And now, with a son in the mix, it was proving to be a challenge in the present.
Of course, Luka didn’t want a Petrov here. I didn’t have to think about it or ask what his opinions were about Konstantin’s daughter being here. Or with me at all. And a son?
I hung my head and went to shower before trying to get some rest. A clearer head would help, but I doubted I’d relax at all, knowing she was here and still so angry with me.
In the morning, after the most restless night of sleep ever, I was determined to start getting answers out of the one woman I’d ever loved. Caffeine didn’t do much help in waking me up or infusing me with energy. Breakfast didn’t appeal either.
But the second I spotted Raisa in the courtyard, leaning her forearms over a stone wall as she watched Lev and Misha in the open-air area located in the center of the mansion, I felt invigorated to reach her. To see her. To merely be near enough that I could extend my hands and touch her.
She didn’t react to my approach, but I knew she was too sharp and observant not to be aware that I was joining her.
Together, we stood side by side. The silence unnerved me, but it was also a chance to gather my thoughts. I wasn’t sure where to start with my questions, where to begin with comments about how she’d handled this huge secret that still pissed me off.
But she took the initiative to break the ice, albeit with a wry, dull tone that suggested she hated to have to speak to me at all.
“He fell asleep before I could explain anything to him. Gabriella showed us to a guest room, and while she gave me a slight tour so I’d find the attached bathroom, he fell asleep on the bed.”
I nodded. “What explanation does he need first?” It seemed that she was too good at keeping the truth from not just me but also our son.
She gave me a slow, withering stare. “That you are his father.”
“You never told him?” That hurt even more. That I wasn’t worth a mention, like I didn’t matter at all in her eyes.
“No. I told him that his father valued his job and his family too much to start a new one with us.”
I glared at her. Bitterness was one thing, but this hatred was already getting old.
“Don’t you dare try to suggest that’s not true.
You and I both knew that our families would never approve of us together.
That was why I wanted to run away—with you—to raise our child, away from the reach of the violence and politics.
” She stood, setting her hands on the edge of the stone half-wall.
“But you showed no interest in sticking with me for long.”