Chapter 25 Vera #2
“You buried someone,” Dimitri corrects coldly. “Not my brother.”
He advances the footage, showing Alexei moving through the mall with ease. Then more footage of different locations and different dates all within the past three weeks.
Alexei, undeniably alive.
“This is a trick,” someone mutters. “CGI or—”
“It’s not.” Dimitri pulls up more screens.
“The dental records from the body we buried don’t match Alexei’s records.
Financial activity continued in his offshore accounts after his supposed death.
And Konstantin” —he displays phone records— “made 247 calls to a burner phone over the past three months. A phone that pinged from every location Alexei was spotted.”
He walks them through everything else to prove his point.
Bank transfers showing Konstantin funding the offshore accounts. Forensic reports showing inconsistencies in the autopsy. Security footage of Alexei visiting Konstantin’s estate just last week.
The evidence is damning and irrefutable.
“The entire war,” Dimitri says, his voice hard, “was orchestrated by Konstantin Volkov. He helped Alexei fake his death. He framed the Ashfords for murder. He manipulated both families into conflict that would eliminate anyone who stood in his way.”
“Why?” someone from the Volkov side asks. “Why would Konstantin do that?”
“Control.” Dimitri’s hand moves to my shoulder protectively and every eye swivels to track that movement.
“Through Alexei and through my wife. The plan was to eliminate me, install Alexei as the new Volkov head—how they were going to re-introduce him is beyond me—and control the Ashfords through Vera. Then there would be an heir with both family bloodlines, with Konstantin pulling the strings behind the scenes.”
The room descends into chaos again, but it’s different this time. It’s not Volkovs versus Ashfords, but confusion and slowly dawning horror.
I watch my father’s face go through shock, confusion, and then rage as everything finally pieces together.
“You’re telling me,” he says slowly, a vein jumping in his forehead, “that Konstantin Volkov started this war and Alexei faked his death, all to control both families?”
Dimitri nods.
My father’s stare bores into me, and I see guilt and pain in his eyes that makes my throat swell with emotion.
“And I gave you to him,” he says, voice cracking. “To what I thought was a monster to save us from a war that was manufactured.”
I bite my lip so hard, I taste coppery blood. “Dad, no.”
“I handed you over like property.” He’s standing now, knuckles white on the table. “I—I negotiated you away to save the family from a threat that didn’t exist.” He runs a shaking hand over his face as if he can’t believe what he’s saying.
“You didn’t know,” I say quietly, wanting to stop him from his self recrimination (even if it is slightly deserved). “None of us did. That’s what Konstantin counted on.”
My father looks pained. “Still—”
“We were all manipulated,” Dimitri says, his voice gentle. “Konstantin knew exactly what levers to pull. Vincent, you believed you were protecting your family and doing what was necessary. You can’t blame yourself for that.”
Dad sinks back into his chair like someone cut his strings.
The meeting continues for hours as Dimitri presents every piece of evidence. Some people refuse to believe what they’re seeing. Konstantin has loyalists, people who’ve known him for decades, but the evidence keeps mounting.
And then Dimitri plays an audio recording.
“This is from last night,” he says. “From the attack on my estate.”
I go very still. I didn’t know he had audio. Then again, the man is paranoid. Of course he has audio surveillance.
Alexei’s voice fills the room, and it’s undeniably him. A shiver runs down my spine. Dimitri notices and places a warm, large hand on my thigh.
“Vera? It’s me. Open up.”
My own voice, muffled through the door. “Fuck off. I’m not opening this door.”
“Be reasonable. Konstantin’s men control the estate now. Dimitri’s security team is either dead or fleeing.”
And then, chillingly, “Dimitri is dead, Vera. Konstantin handled him personally. It’s over. Your husband is gone, and now you belong to me. The way you always should have.”
The radio transmission follows—the one about Dimitri being alive and en route. Alexei's curses. His order to breach the door.
"Change of plans, Vera. You're coming with me. Now."
And my voice, steady despite the fear I remember feeling. "Like hell I am."
The recording ends.
The room is silent.
Even Konstantin’s oldest loyalists look shaken.
“That’s Alexei,” Boris says quietly, looking like all the air has left his body. “That’s his voice. I’d know it anywhere.”
“And he’s talking about taking Dimitri’s wife,” another Volkov adds. “He’s talking about—”
“About betraying everything our family stands for,” Boris finishes. He looks old and tired. “Konstantin. All this time, it was Konstantin.”
My father stands, and every Ashford in the room looks to him.
“If what Dimitri Volkov says is true,” he says carefully, “and the evidence suggests it is—then Konstantin Volkov is our enemy. Not the Volkovs as a whole. And Alexei…” He shakes his head. “Whatever that boy has become, he’s not the victim here.”
He looks directly at Dimitri and extends his hand across the table.
“You have my support. The Ashfords will stand with you against Konstantin and Alexei.”
Dimitri shakes his hand, and thus, the first actual Volkov-Ashford alliance is born.
Other voices chime in. They’re tentative at first but then grow stronger as both families slowly unite against the real threat.
By the time the meeting ends, the room has shifted. Not everyone is convinced (there will always be holdouts, loyalists who refuse to believe) but enough are on board to matter.
As people disperse to spread the word and prepare, my father lingers. Uncle Marcus stays with him, looking between us like he’s trying to figure out if he should leave or stay and see the potential show.
God, I’ve never liked him.
“Give us a minute,” my father says.
Marcus nods and steps away. Dimitri squeezes my hand once, then follows, clearly giving us space.
My father and I stand there awkwardly. While I’ve never doubted my father loved me, he always seemed vaguely disappointed that none of his three daughters were sons.
But right now, he looks tired and guilty.
“I’m sorry,” he says finally. “For all of it. For thinking the marriage would save us. For not protecting you. For—” He stops, struggling and I can see the emotion pooling in his eyes. “For giving you away like you were nothing more than a bargaining chip.”
“Dad.” I touch his arm. “You were trying to save everyone. I can understand that.”
“But you ended up married to…” He gestures vaguely at Dimitri across the room.
“I know.” I glance over at where Dimitri is coordinating with family members. “And honestly? I don’t regret it. Any of it. Because it brought me to him.”
My father follows my gaze.
Dimitri is intense as always—sharp gray eyes focused, dark hair swept back, the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones giving him that aristocratic, dangerous look.
Even with his shoulder bandaged beneath his suit jacket and the exhaustion around his eyes, he’s striking.
Commanding, even. The kind of presence that makes people instinctively step back and listen when he speaks.
But when he glances over and catches me watching, everything softens just slightly. The corner of his mouth lifts and his entire posture shifts to be… warmer, as if I’m the only person in the room who matters.
My father sees the way Dimitri looks at me, like I'm something to be protected and cherished and—if necessary—burned the world down for, and he exhales in wonder.
“He’s good to you?” Dad asks quietly. “Really?”
I nod, blinking back tears. “He’s everything,” I say simply, as it’s the only thing I’m able to get out without crying.
My father nods slowly and studies Dimitri for another moment, taking in the controlled power in how he moves and the respect his men show him.
“He’s not what I expected,” he admits. “When Konstantin suggested the marriage, he painted Dimitri as... different. Brutal. Unstable.”
It was the Dimitri I had first known. “More manipulation,” I say, now knowing the man behind the facade.
“Yes.” He looks back at me. “You love him.”
It’s not a question, but I answer anyway. “I do.”
“And he loves you.”
I nod, feeling warmth bloom in my chest as I remember his declaration of love, and I can’t help the soft smile on my face. “He does.”
“Good.” He clears his throat, looking very uncomfortable. “That’s… that’s good. Your mother will be... well, surprised, but pleased, I think.”
It’s the closest we’ll get to an emotional moment. We’re not that kind of family, but it’s enough.
Dimitri returns to my side, and I can feel the shift in my father’s demeanor—the way he straightens slightly, acknowledging Dimitri as an equal rather than an enemy.
“We need to discuss next steps,” Dimitri says. “Konstantin knows we’re coming for him now. He’ll be fortified and expecting an assault.”
“So we don’t assault,” I hear myself say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Both men look at me.
“We lure him out,” I continue, the idea forming as I talk. “Make him think he has an opportunity he can’t resist.”
Dimitri’s eyes narrow as if he can see my train of thought. “Where are you going with this, Vera?”
Oh, he’s going to hate this. “We use me as bait.”
“Absolutely fucking not.” His response is immediate, and he scowls at me as if unable to believe I even offered it. “Not happening. You’re pregnant and a target, and I’m not putting you in danger again.”
“I’m already in danger,” I counter. “We all are. As long as Konstantin and Alexei are out there, none of us are safe. But they want the baby and me, so we give them an opportunity they can’t resist.”
There’s a long pause, and I realize several people nearby have stopped talking to listen.
“What did you say?” my father says very quietly.
Oh. Right. Shit.
I never actually told my parents about that particular development.
“I’m pregnant,” I say, meeting his brown eyes. “Thirteen weeks.”
My father goes very still. “You’re—” He looks between me and Dimitri as if doing the mental math of when our wedding date was, and he blanches. “Whose?”
I really hope this doesn’t give Dad a heart attack. “Alexei’s.”
If the room was quiet before, it’s a tomb now.
“Alexei got you pregnant,” my father says slowly, each word precise and controlled. It’s the tone a man uses when he’s trying very hard not to lose his composure entirely. “Before he—before we thought he died.”
“Yes.” I force myself to keep going. “But it wasn’t an accident. He sabotaged the birth control and got me pregnant deliberately as part of their twisted and fucked up plan. The baby was always meant to be the leverage.”
Dimitri places a hand on my lower back in a silent way to tell me stop talking. Which is probably for the best as my father’s face goes through several expressions of shock, horror, and rage.
Shit, he actually might have a heart attack.
Then he turns that rage on Dimitri.
“You knew about this?” His voice is rising. “You knew that bastard—”
“Vincent.” Dimitri’s voice is calm, but there’s iciness underneath. “I suggest you take a breath.”
Dad snarls at Dimitri. “Don’t you fucking tell me to take a breath!”
“I said…” Dimitri takes a step forward, and suddenly, the room feels ice cold. His voice doesn’t rise, but the authority in it makes everyone freeze. “Take a breath.”
They stare at each other. My father is trembling with rage while Dimitri is utterly calm but radiating the kind of danger that makes survival instincts scream.
“Your daughter,” Dimitri continues softly but no less lethally, “has been through hell. She’s been lied to, manipulated, violated, and nearly kidnapped.
Twice. She fought back last night with a weapon she’d never held before and saved both our lives.
” He moves closer to my father. “So if you have something to say, say it to me, not to her. Because if you make her feel worse about a situation that was forced on her, I don’t care that you’re her father.
We’re going to have a fucking problem. Are we clear? ”
The silence is deafening.
My father stares at Dimitri. Dimitri stares back unflinchingly.
Then my father’s shoulders sag. “You’re right. I…” He looks at me again, his face crumpling. “I’m sorry, Vera. I wasn’t angry at you. I was angry at—”
“Alexei, I know,” I say wearily. “Get in line. There’s a waiting list for people who want to kill him.”
Uncle Marcus actually laughs. It’s nervous, shocked laughter, but it breaks the tension all the same.
“You’re still not using my daughter as bait,” my father says, but his voice is calmer now.
“Agreed,” Dimitri says immediately. Of course, that’s what they both agree on. “Under no circumstances—”
“I’m not asking for permission,” I interrupt, rolling my eyes. “I’m telling you this is what we’re doing.”
Dimitri and my father look at me as if I’ve grown two heads. It emboldens me to continue.
“They want me and the baby, so we give them an opportunity they can’t resist.” I look between them. “A fake medical appointment outside the city. We will make it look like security is stretched thin after last night’s attack. Leak the information through channels Konstantin monitors.”
“It’s too dangerous,” my father says, his nostrils flaring.
“It’s the only way.” I straighten my shoulders. “I’m tired of running and hiding. I’m tired of being scared. They tried to use me like I’m a thing to be owned. I want to fight back. I want to make them pay.”
Dimitri studies my face, and I can see him running through scenarios and calculating risks.
“If we do this,” he says finally, “you follow my orders exactly. No improvising. No heroics.”
“No shooting light fixtures,” I say, ignoring my father’s bewildered expression. “I know.”
Dimitri’s face tightens. “I’m serious, Vera.”
“So am I.” I meet his eyes. “This ends tomorrow, one way or another.”
He looks at my father, and some silent communication passes between them.
Then my father nods. “All right. We do this. But.” He looks at me sternly, and I suddenly feel five years old again. “You stay safe. Whatever it takes.”
“I will,” I promise.