Sergei
I’m pissed. Bad intel. We raided the fucking warehouse and walked right into a goddamn trap.
Yuri is playing a dangerous game. He thinks he’s going to win.
“Let’s go,” I say to Kirill.
“It seemed like good information.”
“And that was the goal.”
I look around the warehouse that is sprayed with blood. I lost three men. He lost at least a dozen.
“I’ll handle it,” he says.
I know he’s talking about all of it. The mess. The intel. Everything.
I check the time; it’s just before midnight. Sofia will be asleep. She looked tired earlier. I won’t disturb her.
And now, I sit in the dark nursing a scotch that’s doing nothing to take the edge off.
Three of my men dead because I trusted intelligence I should have verified twice. Yuri played me, and I walked right into it like some amateur who doesn’t know better.
I don’t make mistakes like this.
Except I did.
Because I’m distracted. Because every decision I make now has to factor in the woman sleeping upstairs. The woman who’s become more than just a promise I made to a dying woman.
I drain the glass and pour another.
The truth crept up on me. I don’t want this to be just strategic anymore. Somewhere between her walking into my life and now, it became something else. Something I don’t have a name for. It will never be a real marriage if I’m not honest with her. She will find out one day.
I need to tell her the truth. All of it.
The door to my office opens.
“Sergei?” Her voice is soft. Uncertain.
She’s standing in the doorway wearing one of my shirts, her legs bare, her hair messy from sleep. She’s beautiful.
“Is it over?” she asks.
“No.” I take a sip. “It was a setup. We walked right into it.”
She moves into the room, and I hear her sink into the chair across from my desk. “Did you lose anyone?”
“Three men.”
“I’m sorry.”
I look at her and see a woman I know I cannot and will not live without. “I need to tell you something.”
“Okay.”
“It’s about your mother.”
She goes very still. “What about her?”
I take a breath. This is going to hurt her. But she needs to know.
“Your mother was murdered.”
She exhales. “I suspected. My father never told me. I never asked. I think I’ve always known.”
“What you don’t know is who ordered it.”
“A rival.”
I slowly shake my head. “No.”
She frowns and tilts her head to the side. “No?
“Sofia, your father killed her.”
She doesn’t cry. Doesn’t break down. She just endures in silence, like her mother did during her life.
“My father?”
“I don’t know that he did it with his own two hands, but from what I witnessed, it was more than one man.”
Her hand covers her mouth. “What?”
I hate doing this. I can spare her the worst details, but she needs to understand who her father is. “She was beaten.”
She’s trembling but I give her space and don’t touch her.
“I always assumed it had been a quick assassination.”
If only it had been. “No.”
“Why?” Her voice is quiet. I know that tone. She’s holding herself together through sheer willpower. I want to pull her into my arms, but I can’t. My girl has to fight through the pain on her own. That’s the only way she survives this. Her strength. Knowing she can do it without help.
“Because she was having an affair with my father.”
The words hang in the air between us. I watch her process this information. See the pieces clicking into place.
“She betrayed him,” Sofia says in that flat tone that tells me she’s completely disassociating. “So he killed her.”
“Yes.”
“And you were there.”
“Not for the beating. It was a meeting with only the heads of the family present.”
Her shoulders slump and it looks like she might slide out of the chair. “They beat her.” The pain in her voice nearly destroys me.
“My father called me to handle the cleanup. When I got there, she was already dying. They left her for me to finish.”
“Did you?” Her voice is cold now.
“No. I held her while she took her last breath. There was nothing I could do to save her. I promise you, I would have if I thought there was a chance. She asked me to protect you. Made me promise I would keep you safe.”
Sofia stands abruptly. She walks to the window. This is her processing. I recognize it.
“They all beat her.”
“Yes.”
She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Of course they did. Loyalty. Honor. The fucking code.”
I stand and move toward her. This time, I don’t stop myself.
My fingers closes around her wrist, loose enough that she can pull away if she wants.
She doesn’t.
“Yes,” I confirm.
“My father never explained. She was there one day and gone the next. He watched me grieve. He let me believe she had a quick death. I never asked questions.”
“Asking questions would have been dangerous. You stayed alive.”
“He let me love him knowing he murdered the only person in the world who has ever loved me.”
“I’ve been watching over you since that night,” I say. “I kept my promise to your mother. But somewhere along the way, it became more than just a promise.”
She turns to face me. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I know how this started. A strategic alliance. Protection in exchange for legitimacy. But I want more than that now.”
“More?”
“I want this marriage to work. Not as a business arrangement. Not out of duty.” I take a step closer. “I want you, Sofia. Not because I promised your mother. Not because it makes tactical sense. I want you because you’re fierce and brave and you challenge me in ways no one else ever has.”
She stares at me. I can see her trying to decide if she believes me.
“You should have told me,” she says finally. “About my mother. About the promise. You should have been honest from the beginning.”
“You’re right. I should have. I’m telling you now because I don’t want any more secrets between us.”
“I’m glad you were there that night.”
“I’ve always been there, Sofia. In the shadows. I’ve been watching you since the day your mother died.”
She frowns at me. “I thought just the last three years.”
I slowly shake my head. “No.”
“I don’t understand.”
She needs it all. “The first time I saw you was at your mother’s funeral.”
“You were there?”
“I was.”
“I didn’t notice.”
I smirk. “You weren’t supposed to.”
She covers her face.
I let her have it. A few seconds. Maybe more. Her mother's last act was finding someone to stand between her daughter and the world. Sofia is just now understanding that.
When she drops her hands her eyes are wet but her chin is up.
“A year after your mother died, there were a couple of girls at your school. They stole your things. Hit you. Hurt you.”
She pulls her hands away. “Millie and Vanessa.”
“I wanted to kill them,” I sneer.
Her eyes widen. “You didn’t!”
“No. But one of my coworkers had a daughter in the school. She handled it.”
She’s looking at me with confusion and disbelief.
“Do you remember your math teacher?” I ask. “You were fifteen.”
She shrugs. “Maybe.”
“He was a fucking pedophile.” I can’t keep the disgust from my tone. “That one I did handle.”
Dawning appears. “Oh my God! I remember the teachers all crying.”
“That man didn’t deserve tears. I told you before that you were reckless. The frat party? You were nineteen and so naive. You had no business being at that house. That fucker who put his hand on you never touched another woman.”
“Sergei! That’s what guys do.”
“Not with you.”
She closes her eyes, processing everything I’m dumping on her.
“Did my father know?”
He shrugs. “Maybe.”
She falls quiet, staring at me like she’s seeing me for the first time.
“I know you,” I say. “The person you were before that night and the woman you’ve become. I’ve fallen in love with the woman you are now.”
“Love?” she whispers. “You love me.”
“I do.”
She’s quiet for too long. I’ve never told anyone I loved them. And I just showed her my sensitive underbelly. A mistake no pakhan should ever make.
She shakes her head, wipes her face. “I can’t. I need time. I’m going to bed. Please give me space, Sergei.”
It tears at my soul to see her in pain. I want to help. Fix. Protect. That’s what I’ve done for nearly ten years.
But she’s making it clear she can’t love me.
“I understand.”
She leaves without saying another word.