Chapter 18
Jake
The drive to my ranch took us through the heart of Pinecrest, past the bakery and the town square. Everything looked so normal, so unchanged—as if the world hadn’t nearly ended for Ella a few days ago.
We turned onto the long driveway leading to my property, and I felt a strange mix of apprehension and relief.
The ranch house came into view, solid and welcoming against the backdrop of snow-covered mountains.
Several vehicles were parked in front—that I recognized as the MacGallan’s, and a sleek black SUV I didn’t recognize.
“That’s a lot of people,” I said as Declan parked.
He shrugged. “Word travels fast in this family. Everyone wanted to help.”
I nodded, scanning the vehicles. “I only see one missing.” I didn’t want to say Mikhail’s name in front of Nora, not before Ella had a chance to talk to her.
“He’s around back,” Declan said quietly. “Checking things out.”
Nora bounced in her seat, eager to get out. “Can we go in now? I’m hungry.”
I helped Ella from the truck, noticing how she leaned on me more than she wanted to admit. The doctor had warned us she’d be weak for a few days, her body still recovering from the trauma.
“Easy,” I murmured, my arm steady around her waist. “No rush.”
The front door opened before we reached it, and Rory stepped out, his massive frame filling the doorway. “Welcome home,” he said, his eyes warm as they settled on Ella. “Got the fire going and soup on the stove.”
“Thank you,” Ella said, her voice still raspy. “For everything.”
Inside, the house was warmer than I usually kept it, the fire crackling in the stone hearth. The scent of homemade soup filled the air, and for a moment I was struck by how different the place felt—lived-in, like a real home.
Kane and Kori were in the kitchen, arguing good-naturedly about the proper amount of salt for the soup. They both looked up when we entered, their faces breaking into relieved smiles.
“About time,” Kane said, coming forward to clap me on the shoulder. “The place was starting to feel like a war zone with all the planning going on.”
Kori moved to Ella’s side, taking her free arm. “Let’s get you settled on the couch. You look dead on your feet.”
I winced at her choice of words, but Ella just smiled tiredly. “That obvious, huh?”
As Kori helped Ella to the living room, Nora trailed behind them. Kane pulled me aside.
“Mikhail’s been all over the property,” he said in a low voice. “Setting up cameras, checking sightlines. Man knows his security.”
“Good,” I said, though I couldn’t quite suppress the twinge of jealousy. This was my home, my territory, and having Mikhail take charge rubbed me the wrong way. But I pushed the feeling aside. This wasn’t about my pride or me.
“How’s Caleb?” I asked, suddenly remembering my brother.
“Stable,” Kane reported. “Doc says the bullet missed any major arteries. He’s staying at the hospital one more night, then coming here.”
Relief washed through me. With everything else happening, I’d pushed my worry for Caleb to the back of my mind. “And the men who attacked the cabin? Did the cops believe the story of a home invasion?”
Kane’s expression darkened. “Yup. They’re currently looking for the men who did it.”
“Which they will never find. My men handled that,” Declan added, joining our huddle. I nodded, unsurprised. The stories I’d heard about the MacGallan family and now Mikhail Petrova, I knew, were both used to covering their asses. “Where is he now?”
“Here.” The voice came from behind me, and I turned to find him standing in the kitchen doorway, his dark eyes unreadable as they met mine. “We need to talk.”
I glanced toward the living room, where Ella was settling onto the couch with Nora curled against her side. “Give me a minute.”
Mikhail followed my gaze and nodded once, understanding. I moved to the living room, crouching in front of Ella.
“Hey,” I said softly. “How are you holding up?”
She managed a tired smile. “I’ve been better. But I’m here, which is more than I could say yesterday.”
I reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Mikhail wants to talk about everything. Will you be okay if I step away for a bit?”
Her eyes flicked to where Mikhail waited in the kitchen doorway, then back to me. “We still need to talk to Nora.”
“I know,” I assured her. “As soon as I’m done with this, we’ll sit down together. Promise.”
She nodded, and I could see the exhaustion pulling at her. “Go ahead. We’ll be fine here.”
I straightened, turning to Kori, who hovered nearby. “Would you mind making some hot chocolate? For Nora?”
Kori smiled, understanding the unspoken request to keep an eye on them. “Coming right up. With extra marshmallows, right, kiddo?”
Nora nodded eagerly, momentarily distracted from her mother’s side.
I rejoined the men in the kitchen, where Mikhail had spread a map of the property across the island counter.
“I’ve set up motion sensors along the perimeter,” he explained, pointing to each area on the map. “And cameras at key access points. If anyone approaches within a mile radius, we’ll know.”
“Good,” I said, looking the map over. “What about communications? Cell service out here is spotty at best.”
“Already addressed,” Mikhail said, pointing to a small device on the counter. “Satellite phone. Untraceable. And I’ve installed signal boosters for the existing cell service.”
“For backup, we have these,” Rory said, setting a box of walkie-talkies on the counter.
I had to admit, they were thorough. “Any idea on a time when this is all going to go down?”
Mikhail straightened, his face grim. “My contact in Moscow confirms that my father knows his men have failed. He’s already mobilizing a second team.”
“How long?” Kane asked.
“Three days. Maybe four.” Mikhail ran a hand through his hair, the first sign of stress I’d seen him display. “I’m pushing my contacts to move faster with the evidence handoff, but bureaucracy moves at its own pace.”
“Four days is plenty of time to shore up defenses,” Declan said confidently. “I’ve called in backup from Toronto. Between your tech and our manpower, this place will be a fortress.”
I nodded in agreement, though a nagging worry remained. “And after? Once the evidence is delivered and your father is arrested?”
Mikhail’s eyes met mine, and I saw the unspoken challenge there. “That depends on Ella.”
The tension in the room ratcheted up a notch. Everyone present knew what he meant—once the immediate danger was past, decisions would need to be made about the future. About Nora. About the three of us and whatever triangle we’d inadvertently formed.
“One crisis at a time,” I said firmly. “For now, we focus on keeping them safe.”
Mikhail nodded. “Agreed. In which case, I suggest we establish a watch rotation. At least two people on guard in the house at all times and ten outside.”
We spent the next hour working out the details— who would be on first watch, communications, and emergency plans. By the time we finished, I felt more confident in our ability to protect Ella and Nora, at least in the short term.
As the others dispersed to their assigned tasks, Mikhail lingered in the kitchen.
“There’s something else we need to discuss,” he said quietly. “Nora.”
I stiffened, sensing where this was heading. “What about her?”
“Ella mentioned that she wants to tell her the truth. About me.” His voice remained neutral, but I could see the emotion in his eyes. “I think it would be better coming from both of us. From her parents.”
The word ‘parents’ hit me like a physical blow, a stark reminder of what I was not to Nora, would never be. But I pushed the feeling aside.
“That’s Ella’s decision,” I said evenly. “She asked me to be there, and I agreed.”
Mikhail’s jaw tightened slightly. “I understand you care for them, Brennen. But this is a family matter. My family matters.”
“You’ve been dead to them for eight years,” I said, anger flaring despite my best efforts to contain it. “I’ve been here. You haven’t. So don’t talk to me about family matters.”
We stared at each other, the tension crackling between us. Finally, Mikhail nodded, a gesture of reluctant respect.
“You’re right,” he admitted. “And I’m grateful for what you’ve done for them. But understand this—Nora is my daughter. I’ve lost eight years with her. I won’t lose any more.”
Before I could respond, Ella appeared in the doorway, steadying herself against the frame. “Everything okay in here?”
We both turned, instantly composing our expressions. “Just finalizing details,” I said, moving to her side. “You should be resting.”
“I’ve rested enough,” she said, though the pallor of her skin belied her words. “Nora’s asking questions. I think it’s time we talked to her.”
Mikhail straightened, his eyes lighting with an emotion I couldn’t quite name—hope, perhaps, or fear. “Now?”
Ella nodded. “No point in delaying. She’s already noticed your eyes, Mikhail. How they match hers.”
A flash of pride crossed his face at this. “She’s a smart one.”
“Like her mother,” I said softly, and was rewarded with a small smile from Ella.
“I thought we could sit in your study,” she suggested. “More private than the living room with everyone coming and going.”
I nodded. “I’ll get the hot chocolate ready.”
As I moved to the stove where Kori had left the pot warming, I heard Mikhail speak quietly to Ella.
“Are you sure about this? Having him there?”
Her response was clear and firm. “Yes. Jake stays.”
Something warm unfolded in my chest at her words, a feeling I hadn’t experienced in years. Trust. She trusted me with this most vulnerable moment, with her daughter’s heart. It was a gift I didn’t take lightly.
A few minutes later, we gathered in my study—a room I rarely used, with its wall of bookshelves and the old leather chair that had been my grandfather’s. Nora sat between Ella and Mikhail on the small sofa, her hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate, while I took the chair opposite them.
“Am I in trouble?” Nora asked, looking between us with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
“No, sweetheart,” Ella assured her, smoothing a hand over her daughter’s hair. “You haven’t done anything wrong. This is about something else. Something I should have told you a long time ago.”
Nora’s gaze shifted to Mikhail, then back to her mother. “Is it about Mr. Mikhail?”
Ella took a deep breath, her eyes meeting mine briefly before she nodded. “Yes. It’s about him and your father.”
Nora set her mug down carefully on the side table, suddenly serious. “The one who died before I was born?”
“That’s what I told you,” Ella said gently. “But it wasn’t exactly true.”
Confusion crossed Nora’s face. “You lied?”
“I thought I was telling the truth,” Ella explained, her voice steady despite the emotion I could see building behind her eyes. “I believed your father had died. But I was wrong.”
Nora looked at Mikhail, really looked at him, her intelligent eyes taking in his features. I saw the moment understanding dawned—the slight widening of her eyes, the catch in her breath.
“Are you my dad?” she asked directly, her voice small but clear.