Chapter Forty-Eight
Stella
An alert pings on my laptop, pulling me away from the latest neuroscience journal I’ve been devouring.
Restricted internet access means I have to make the most of every moment online. I click over to my inbox, expecting one of the automated newsletters I’ve subscribed to, but my stomach drops when I see the sender and the subject line.
‘From: G. Maranzano’
‘Subject: You owe me money’
Shit.
My fingers hover above the trackpad, a cold sweat breaking out across my forehead. I hadn’t heard from Gianni since that night — the night I swore I’d erase from my memory. The subject line alone sends a shiver down my spine. I swallow hard and force myself to open the email.
“Ciao cara. I hope you didn’t forget about our little arrangement because it’s time to pay up. Don’t make me come find you.”
A knot tightens in my chest. The words blur as memories flood back — Gianni’s smug grin, the weight of the black bag in my hand, and the humiliation of what I’d done to secure Nick’s safety.
I thought I’d washed my hands of him, that Aleksei’s intervention had severed any remaining ties. Clearly, I was wrong.
I close the laptop abruptly, pushing it away as if it’s burned me. My heart hammers against my ribs, each beat echoing in my ears. I draw my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. The walls of the opulent room seem to close in, the grandeur suffocating rather than comforting.
I can’t believe I was engaged to this guy. What the hell was I thinking?
I should tell him to go screw himself after everything he put me through—especially since he didn’t even give me the full three hundred grand. He gave me other things instead, and it’s only sheer luck that my meeting with Aleksei didn’t go horribly wrong.
I stand abruptly, pacing the length of the room. The plush carpet muffles my footsteps, but it does nothing to quiet my racing mind. I rub my temples, trying to stave off the impending headache. This really is the last thing I need right now. I’m already grappling with enough uncertainty.
I think back to the desperate decision to borrow money from Gianni.
Helping Nick seemed to be worth any price at the time.
My brother’s terrified eyes, his pleas for help — they left me no choice.
But the relief I felt then has morphed into dread.
I should have known Gianni won’t simply let this go.
The afternoon drags on.
Each passing minute is weighted with anxiety as I try to come up with a solution. I try to distract myself with books, stretching routines, anything to keep my mind occupied.
As evening approaches, a knock at the door startles me. Before I can answer, Aleksei strides in, his presence commanding as always. He’s dressed casually, but there’s an alertness in his gaze that makes my pulse quicken.
“Your heart rate is elevated,” he notes, pointing at the biomarker device on my wrist. “What’s going on?”
Of course he’d notice. I force a tight smile. “Just feeling a bit… restless.”
He crosses the room, his eyes scanning my face intently. “Restless?” His gaze sharpens. “It’s more than that. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Shit.
I hesitate, biting my lower lip. Part of me wants to unload everything, to let him shoulder this burden for me.
But another part resists, clinging to the last shred of autonomy I still have.
I’ve always prided myself on being an independent woman who can take care of herself.
But now, I don’t even have my job to start chipping away at my debt with monthly installments.
I hate the helplessness, the gnawing realization that I’m completely at Aleksei’s mercy.
“Stella,” he says firmly, softening his tone just a fraction. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”
His sincerity breaks through my defenses. I take a shaky breath. It’s not like I have a choice. “I received an email today… from Gianni.”
A flicker of emotion — anger, perhaps — passes over his features. “What does he want?”
“He… wants the money. He says I owe him.” I swallow hard. “The cash I borrowed from him to help Nick.”
“The money you brought here that night?” He lifts an eyebrow. “In the bag with the toys in it?”
I feel my cheeks flame. “Yeah,” I whisper.
Aleksei’s jaw tightens. “Did you respond?”
I shake my head quickly. “No. Not yet.”
He nods, processing the information. “Does he know you’re here?”
“No.” I shake my head. “At least, I don’t think so.”
He mutters something under his breath in Russian, the words sounding harsh. Running a hand through his hair, he looks back at me. “You should have told me sooner.”
“I’m telling you now,” I reply softly. “I didn’t want to cause more trouble.”
He steps closer, his gaze intense. “It’s my responsibility to protect you, Zaychik . Gianni won’t bother you again.”
I look up at him, a mix of relief and apprehension swirling within me. “What are you going to do?”
His eyes harden. “I’ll handle it.”
There’s a finality in his tone that sends a shiver through me. Part of me wants to press for details, but the other part isn’t sure I want to know.
He’ll handle it.
He reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek lightly. “You don’t need to worry about this anymore. Focus on taking care of yourself and the baby.”
I nod slowly, the tension in my shoulders easing just a bit. “Thank you.”
He holds my gaze for a moment longer before stepping back. “Get some rest. I’ll check on you tomorrow.”
As he turns to leave, I feel a pang of something — loneliness, perhaps? “Aleksei?” I say impulsively.
He pauses at the doorway. “Yes?”
My mouth opens, then closes. Whatever I was going to say lodges in my throat, heavy and unspoken. “Nothing,” I whisper.
The corner of his lip quirks up, just barely. “Good night, zaychik .”
When the door clicks shut behind him, I sink onto the edge of the bed.
The room feels emptier now, the shadows lengthening as evening settles in.
I should feel reassured, but unease still coils in my stomach.
Is he really going to fix this? How? And at what cost?
As much as I despise my ex-fiancé, I don’t want Aleksei to hurt him.
The night falls, but sleep eludes me.
I lie awake in my bed, the ceiling shadowed and unfamiliar. The more I think about it, the more entangled I feel in Aleksei’s world. Dependence wasn’t something I ever wanted, yet here I am, relying on a Bratva boss to solve my problems.
What if Gianni doesn’t back down? He’s not the type to simply walk away, especially when his pride is at stake. The thought of potential retaliation gnaws at me.
As the hours drag on, exhaustion eventually pulls me under. But rest is fleeting.
I’m back in our old house, the scent of my mother’s cooking wafting through the air.
Laughter echoes from the dining room where my father sits, his smile warm and genuine.
But the scene shifts abruptly. The lights flicker, and shadows creep in.
Men with obscured faces storm in, a gunshot rings out, and my father’s body crumples to the floor.
A police officer appears, his face twisted into a cruel sneer.
“You will never know how he died,” he says.
I try to scream, but no sound comes out. My feet are rooted to the spot as I watch the scene unfold again and again.
I jolt awake, a strangled cry escaping my lips. My heart races, sweat clinging to my skin. The darkness of the room presses in, and for a moment, I can’t distinguish reality from the nightmare.
Curling into a ball, I focus on my breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Slowly, the terror subsides. But the ache remains — a hollow pit of grief and unanswered questions.
I glance toward the empty side of the bed. There’s no one here to offer comfort, to chase away the shadows. I’m alone.
But maybe I don’t have to be.
As the early morning light filters through the curtains, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and tiptoe to the dresser. Hidden beneath a stack of clothes is my secret phone.
I pull it out and stare at the screen, my mind racing.
“It’s time, Stella,” Says Boyana. “You’ve been procrastinating this for days.”
I know Boyana’s right, but I needed to gather the strength for this phone call. And I’m still not sure I’m ready to find out the truth about my father’s death.
“Come on, sis, don’t be such a coward,” Boyana’s voice urges.
I dial Hannah’s number before I could think better of it, my fingers trembling slightly. It rings twice before her familiar voice answers.
“Hello?”
“Hannah, it’s me,” I whisper, glancing toward the closed door as if expecting someone to barge in.
“Stels? Oh my God, are you okay? What time is it?” Concern laces her tone.
“I’m fine, Han, don’t worry,” I reply. “But I need your help.”
“Anything. Just tell me what’s going on.”
I take a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. “I’m still here… with Aleksei, and—”
“That slimy bastard,” she mutters. “If he’s done anything to you, I’ll—”
“No! It’s nothing like that,” I say quickly. Because aside from being locked up here, I’m not being mistreated in any way. Quite the opposite, actually. “I need you to look into something for me.”
“Okaaay,” she draws the word out. “Tell me what you need.”
I take a deep breath. “Look, I need you to help me find out the real reason behind my dad’s death.”
“Your dad’s death? But you said he died in an accident.” She pauses. “You think there’s more to it?”
“I do,” I admit. “My mother always said it wasn’t an accident. Nobody would believe her, Han.” It breaks my heart to say it because I was one of them. “It pushed her to the edge eventually.” I swallow hard. “It’s why she killed herself.”
“Oh God, Stella. I’m so sorry.” Hannah’s voice is husky. “You never said much about it, and I always just assumed…”
“Maybe it’s my fault. I should have listened to her.” My voice breaks slightly.
“No, don’t do that to yourself, Stell.” Her tone grows firm. “Suicide is a terrible thing, and it’s never anyone’s fault. I don’t care what people say. She made that decision herself. And there was probably more to it. Your parents were always so close.”
“I know,” I sigh. “They were inseparable.” I remember how we’d always joked about Mom and Dad being joined at the hip. Even with all his drinking problems, it was clear my father adored her.
“Alright, I’ll see what I can dig up,” Hannah says. “Leave it to me,” she assures me. “I have some contacts that might be able to help.”
Relief washes over me. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Hey, what are best friends for?” she quips lightly. “Just promise me you’ll stay safe.”
“I will.”
“Good. And Stella… if you need anything else, anytime, call me.”
“Thank you, Han,” I say again, my voice soft.
We end the call, and I carefully hide the phone, tucking it away. Just as I close the drawer, a light knock sounds at the door.
“Stella?” Diana’s voice drifts through. “May I come in?”
I smooth down my pajama top, taking a steadying breath. “Yes, of course.”
She enters gracefully, a tray in her hands. “I thought I’d have breakfast with you today. If you don’t mind.”
I offer a small smile. “I’d like that.”
She sets the tray on the small table by the window. The morning sunlight casts a gentle glow, and for a moment, the tension eases.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, her gaze appraising.
“Fine,” I lie. “Just a bit tired.”
She nods, folding her hands elegantly in front of her. “It’s important to rest. Stress isn’t good for the baby.”
“I know,” I reply, taking a seat at the table. The meal is modest — oatmeal with fresh berries and a side of herbal tea.
Diana takes a seat opposite me, reaching for a bowl and drizzling honey over the contents. “Aleksei mentioned you had some problems?”
I stir the oatmeal slowly. “He said he’d handle it.”
Her lips press into a thin line. “He can be… quite protective.”
I glance up, meeting her gaze. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Not necessarily,” she concedes. “But it can be overwhelming.”
I sip the tea, its warmth calming. “I suppose I’m still adjusting to all of this.”
Her expression softens slightly. “I can imagine it’s a lot to take in.”
An awkward silence settles between us. Seeking to lighten the mood, I ask, “Have you always lived here?”
She tilts her head slightly. “For some time now. Aleksei values family close by.”
I nod. “It must be nice, having that support.”
A shadow passes over her features. “Family is complicated.”
I chuckle softly. “Isn’t that the truth.”
She allows a small smile. “Indeed.”
We lapse into a more comfortable silence as we eat. Surprisingly, the food sits well, and I feel a bit more grounded.
“Thank you for breakfast,” I say sincerely.
“Thank you for the company.” She stands gracefully. “Shall we do it again?”
“I’d like that,” I say, surprised to find that I mean it.
As she moves toward the door, she pauses. “Oh, and Stella?”
“Yes?”
“Perhaps, if you’re feeling up to it, we could hang out in the gardens later. Fresh air might do you good.”
I smile genuinely. “Sure, sounds good.”
She nods once before exiting, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Turning in my seat, I gaze out the window. The meticulously maintained gardens stretch out below, a maze of hedges and blooming flowers. In the distance beyond the small forest surrounding the gardens, the mountains rise against the clear sky.
For the first time in days, I feel a glimmer of something. Hope, perhaps. Between Aleksei’s promise to handle Gianni and Hannah’s commitment to help uncover the truth about Dad, maybe things can begin to make sense.
I rest a hand on my abdomen, a protective gesture. “We’ll get through this,” I whisper to the tiny life growing inside me. “One step at a time.”
The day stretches ahead, and while uncertainty still looms, I feel a renewed determination. I may be entangled in a world far beyond my control, but I won’t be powerless. Not entirely.
Finishing the last of my tea, I rise and prepare for the walk with Diana.
Perhaps forging connections here isn’t such a bad idea after all.