Chapter 19
ADRIANNE
Isat on the edge of the bed, picking at the hem of the fresh clothes someone had left while I slept. Proper clothes this time. Jeans that actually fit, a soft sweater that didn’t smell like him. That fact alone should have been a relief.
It wasn’t.
I couldn’t stop wondering why this damn place had Nikolai’s clothes in the closet. It seemed odd, at least.
It was that time of the day again, when the images of him became more alive in my mind, especially since what happened the other night
A knock on the door made me jump, and my whole body felt the hope of seeing his face before the voice filtered through.
“Miss Battaglia?” It was Alexei. Not Nikolai. “May I come in?”
I hesitated, then crossed to the door and opened it wider. He stood there with that easy smile, so different from Nikolai’s controlled expressions. Where Nikolai was ice and sharp edges, Alexei was all warmth and charm.
“Good morning,” he said, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “I thought you might like some fresh air. If you’re interested, I could give you a tour of the grounds. The preparations for the ball are in full swing, and I promise the scenery is much better than these four walls.”
Fresh air. When was the last time I’d breathed anything that wasn’t recycled through this basement? When was the last time I’d seen the sun?
“Is that allowed?” I asked, glancing past him to the guard who was suspiciously absent. I didn’t want to piss off the almighty Bratva king. Again.
“I’m allowing it.” Alexei’s smile widened. “And what Nikolai doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, you’re not a flight risk. Where would you go? We’re miles from anywhere, and you’d freeze to death before you made it past the gates.”
The casual reminder of my situation should have stung, but he delivered it so matter-of-factly that I almost appreciated the honesty.
“Alright. Let me get my shoes.”
The basement door closed behind us with a click, and I felt something in my chest loosen.
Freedom.
Minutes later, I was following Alexei through the maze of hallways I’d only glimpsed when they’d brought me here and then in the darkness last night.
Even if it was temporary, even if it was an illusion, it felt like I could finally breathe.
Staff moved through the halls like worker bees, carrying bolts of red fabric, massive floral arrangements, and boxes of what looked like crystal stemware. The preparations for the ball that Alexei had mentioned.
“The Krasni Ball,” Alexei explained as we walked, noticing my curiosity, nodding to the staff who paused to stare at me with undisguised curiosity.
“Red Ball. It’s a Volkov tradition going back generations.
Every year, we host the most powerful families in Russian society.
It’s part networking, part showing off, part matchmaking. ”
“Matchmaking?”
“There’s a tradition,” he continued, guiding me toward a set of massive French doors.
“Guests who are available, who are open to connections, they wear a red ribbon tied around their wrist. It’s how alliances are formed, how marriages are arranged.
How empires are built or destroyed over a single dance. ”
The doors opened to reveal sprawling grounds covered in a blanket of white. Snow stretched as far as I could see, broken only by those carefully maintained gardens I’d noticed when we arrived. The cold hit me immediately, seeping through my sweater.
“Here.” Alexei shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over my shoulders before I could protest. “Can’t have you catching pneumonia. Nikolai would kill me.”
The mention of his name made my stomach flip.
“Would he?” The words came bitter, as my mind traveled back to last night.
“He might pretend otherwise, but yes. He would.”
We walked in silence for a moment, our feet crunching in the snow. The air was crisp and clean, so different from the stale basement atmosphere I’d been breathing for days. I filled my lungs with it, trying to clear my head.
My hands dragged across a bunch of flowers in bloom. Despite the cold, they resisted and persevered.
“Beautiful,” I whispered.
Alexei plucked one out and placed it in my hair, just above my ear. “You don’t have to feel guilty, you know.”
I looked at him sharply. “What?”
“About the other night. About choosing to defend me.” His voice was gentle, understanding. “I saw it on your face just now when I mentioned him. You’re carrying guilt that isn’t yours to carry.”
How wrong was he? I was pissed. Hurt. Furious about being treated like a damn whore.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.” He smiled, but it wasn’t mocking. “For what it’s worth, Nikolai has always been like this. Hot and cold. Push and pull. It’s not personal, Adrianne. It’s just who he is.”
Was it, though? Because it had felt pretty damn personal when he’d kissed me. When he’d looked at me like I was the only thing in the room worth seeing. When he buried his damn cock in my mouth and groaned my name as his cum spurted down my throat.
“Tell me about the estate,” I said, desperate to change the subject. “It’s beautiful.”
Alexei accepted the deflection gracefully.
As we walked, he pointed out different features.
The eastern wing, where the family quarters were.
The western wing that housed staff and security.
The ballroom where the Krasni Ball would be held, with its floor-to-ceiling windows and chandeliers that supposedly cost more than most people made in a lifetime.
It was easy to talk to him. Too easy. He asked about my life before all this, and I found myself sharing stories I hadn’t thought about in years. Growing up in Providence. My mother’s illness. Our small house that had never quite felt like home.
In return, he shared his own stories. Growing up in the Volkov shadow. Summers in Brazil. The weight of a family name that demanded excellence and offered no room for weakness.
“Nikolai and I used to be close,” he said as we approached what looked like the entrance to that massive hedge maze Nikolai was adamant I’d keep away from. “When we were kids. Before everything fell apart.”
“What happened?”
His expression darkened slightly. “Life. Death. A tragedy that either bonds people together or drives them apart. Dead blood is poison in the veins, it turns out.” I’d heard that before. I just couldn’t place it.
Alexei paused at the maze entrance, running his hand along the perfectly trimmed hedge. “This was my aunt’s pride and joy. She designed it herself. I remember how she used to spend hours out here, tending to it, making sure every turn was perfect.”
“It’s incredible.” Even covered in snow, the maze was a work of art. The hedges rose at least ten feet high, thick enough that you couldn’t see through them.
“There’s a butterfly dome at the center,” Alexei continued.
“His mother loved butterflies. She used to say they represented transformation and hope. The beauty that comes from struggle.” His voice turned nostalgic as he admired the hedges while I started to understand why Nikolai was so protective of it.
“After she died, Nikolai would hide there for days. It was the only place he felt close to her.”
My heart clenched as I realized how important it must have been for him to recover their remains. How cruel it was of his father to leave that kind of wound open and poke around it to prevent it from ever healing.
“He doesn’t let anyone near it now,” Alexei said. “Not even family. He’s very protective of her memory. No one even knows the way there, aside from the caretakers and Nikolai.”
“How did she die?”
“That’s his story to tell, if he chooses.” Alexei’s expression turned sympathetic, almost pitying. “But between you and me? Nikolai’s never been the same. He carries so much anger, so much pain. And he takes it out on everyone around him, especially the people who try to help him.”
“Like you?”
“Like me.” He sighed, the sound heavy with years of rejection. “I’ve tried to be there for him. But he can’t see past his own jealousy.”
“Jealousy?”
“Of what I have. Freedom. Happiness. A life that isn’t chained to this place and these expectations.
To these memories.” Alexei kicked at the snow.
“He resents me for it. Always has. That’s why he treats me the way he does.
It’s not really about me. It’s about what I represent. Everything he thinks he can’t have.”
The explanation made sense in a sad, twisted way. It explained the hostility I’d witnessed. The way Nikolai had practically vibrated with rage every time Alexei was around.
But something about it didn’t sit right. Maybe I didn’t want to believe that Nikolai could harvest such petty feelings. For some reason, I realized I was taking offense to the way he spoke about his cousin.
“Come on,” Alexei said, his easy smile returning. “There’s one more place I want to show you before we head back.”
He led me around the maze, through yet another garden and a heavy line of trees, toward what looked like a small lake in the distance. As we got closer, I could see it was completely frozen over, the ice thick and opaque under our feet.
“How beautiful is this? The stillness…” Alexei announced.
“In the summer, it’s beautiful, too. Crystal clear water, fish you can see from the surface.
But in winter?” He knelt at the edge, brushing snow away from the ice.
“It’s so much more mesmerizing. Look closely.
You can still see the fish, swimming just below the surface in their own little world. ”
I knelt beside him, peering at the ice. He was right. Dark shapes moved beneath the frozen surface, fish trapped in their icy world, visible, but unreachable.
“It’s like a whole other world down there,” I murmured. “So close, but completely separate.”
“Exactly.” Alexei’s voice was soft. “Sometimes I think that’s what Nikolai is like. Right there, visible, but trapped behind walls so thick that no one can reach him.”