Chapter 28
Jake
Sleep didn’t come easy even with Ella curled against me in the massive guest bed.
My mind kept replaying the events in Alexei’s study—the moment Nora broke free, the struggle that followed, the sound of the gunshot.
I hadn’t told Ella everything that happened, not yet.
Some truths were better saved for daylight.
I woke at dawn, the storm having finally blown itself out overnight. Ella was still sleeping, her face peaceful for the first time in days. I slipped out of bed carefully, not wanting to disturb her. She needed the rest.
Downstairs, I found Declan in the kitchen, staring into a cup of coffee as if it held answers to questions he hadn’t yet asked.
“Morning,” I said, helping myself to the pot.
He looked up, his expression somber. “Interpol called. They want statements from all of us. Today, if possible.”
I nodded, not surprised. “What about Alexei?”
“Single shot to the temple.”
My hand stilled on the coffee pot. “He did it himself?”
“Yes. Mikhail’s already given his statement. The CTV footage shows the flash after you both left.”
“We did leave together,” I confirmed, remembering the desperate struggle in the study after Nora escaped. Alexei’s men bursting in, the flash of gunfire, Mikhail’s cold efficiency. “As for his men, they didn’t give us a choice; it was self-defence.”
Declan didn’t press for details, which I appreciated. Some things were better left unsaid, especially in a house with ears everywhere.
“How’s Ella holding up?” he asked instead.
“As well as can be expected. She’s strong.” I took a sip of coffee. “But this is far from over. Mikhail wants to be part of Nora’s life.”
“And you?”
I met his gaze steadily. “I want whatever makes them happy. Whatever keeps them safe.”
Declan nodded, understanding in his eyes. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think they’re lucky to have you.”
Before I could respond, soft footsteps announced Nora’s arrival. She padded into the kitchen in pajamas that Ella had packed, her hair tousled from sleep.
“Hi,” she said shyly, hovering in the doorway.
“Hey, kiddo,” I greeted her, setting down my mug. “How’d you sleep?”
“Okay, I guess.” She moved closer, glancing around the massive kitchen with wide eyes. “This place is like a castle.”
“Pretty much is,” I agreed. “Hungry?”
She nodded, climbing onto one of the stools at the island. “Is Mom still sleeping?”
“Yeah, I thought we’d let her rest a bit longer.” I opened the refrigerator and looked at the contents. “How about pancakes? I make a mean chocolate chip version.”
Her face lit up. “With whipped cream?”
“If we can find some,” I promised, already pulling ingredients from the shelves.
Declan excused himself, leaving us alone in the kitchen. As I mixed batter and heated a griddle, Nora watched me with curious eyes.
“Jake?” she asked finally. “Is my grandfather going to prison?”
I paused, considering how to answer. “Ahh,” I said. “He did some nasty things.”
She nodded, seeming to accept this. “He said I was supposed to be a Petrova. That Russia was my real home.”
I set down the whisk and gave her my full attention. “Your home is wherever you and your mom are. And whatever your last name is, you’re still you—brave, smart, kind Nora.”
She smiled a little at that. “I was really scared,” she admitted, her voice small.
My throat tightened with emotion. “You were braver than anyone I’ve ever known,” I told her honestly.
She beamed at the praise, then grew serious again. “Is my dad staying with us? When we go home?”
The question caught me off guard. “I’m not sure,” I said carefully. “That’s something your mom and your dad need to figure out.”
“I hope he does,” she said, swinging her legs. “But I hope you stay too.”
I turned back to the stove, not wanting her to see how much her words affected me. “Well, I’m not going anywhere,” I assured her, keeping my tone light. “Someone has to make sure Scout doesn’t eat all your socks.”
She giggled, the sound chasing away the last shadows of yesterday’s terror. We settled into the comfortable routine of making breakfast together, Nora helping sprinkle chocolate chips into the pancake batter, her small face intent.
By the time Ella appeared in the doorway, sleep-rumpled and beautiful, we had a stack of pancakes waiting and whipped cream piled high on Nora’s plate.
“What’s all this?” she asked, smiling at the domestic scene before her.
“Jake’s making his famous pancakes,” Nora announced, her mouth already smeared with chocolate. “They’re the best ever.”
Ella’s eyes met mine over Nora’s head, warm with something that made my heart skip. “Is that right?” she said, crossing to press a kiss to her daughter’s hair. “Guess I’d better try some then.”
I handed her a mug of coffee, our fingers brushing in the exchange. “Sleep okay?”
“Better than I expected,” she admitted, taking a grateful sip. “Though I missed you when I woke up.”
The simple admission, spoken so casually in front of Nora, felt significant—a small step toward whatever we were becoming.
“Sorry,” I said, flipping another pancake onto the growing stack. “Didn’t want to wake you.”
Nora looked between us, her expression thoughtful. “Are you and Jake boyfriend and girlfriend now, Mom?”
Ella choked on her coffee, and I nearly dropped the spatula. Leave it to an eight-year-old to cut straight to the chase.
“Well,” Ella began, her cheeks flushing pink, “Jake and I are... we’re...”
“We’re figuring things out,” I supplied, coming to her rescue. “But we care about each other very much.”
This seemed to satisfy Nora. “Good,” she declared. “Because you make Mom smile. And you make the best pancakes.”
“High praise indeed,” I said, winking at Ella over Nora’s head.
The moment was interrupted by Mikhail’s arrival. He stood in the doorway, watching with an unreadable expression.
“Good morning,” he said formally. “I see you’re all up early.”
“Dad!” Nora called, waving him over. “Jake made chocolate chip pancakes. Want some?”
A flash of something—pain? envy? —crossed his face before he smiled. “Perhaps just coffee for now,” he said, moving to the pot.
I served up another plate of pancakes, deliberately keeping my movements casual, though tension had crept back into the room. “Declan mentioned you spoke with Interpol,” I said.
Mikhail nodded, leaning against the counter with his coffee. “They’ve arranged for agents to come here, given the weather conditions. The roads are still barely passable.”
“What will they want to know?” Ella asked, her hand finding Nora’s on the countertop.
“Everything,” Mikhail replied bluntly. “The kidnapping, the rescue, what happened at the compound.” His eyes met mine briefly. “All of it.”
I understood his meaning. We would need to coordinate our accounts, especially regarding the deaths at the compound. Nora didn’t need to know those details, nor did she need to witness her mother being interrogated by agents.
“Nora,” I said, turning to her with forced brightness, “after breakfast, would you like to see the horses? Declan has a stable with some beautiful animals.”
Her eyes lit up. “Really? Can I ride one?”
“If it’s okay with your mom,” I hedged, glancing at Ella.
She smiled gratefully, understanding what I was doing. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. Maybe Aunt Wren and Aunt Kat can show you around while the grown-ups talk boring stuff.”
Nora made a face. “Boring grown-up stuff is the worst.”
“Tell me about it,” I agreed solemnly, which made her giggle again.
After breakfast, Wren and Kat whisked Nora away to the stables, promising hot chocolate and pony rides. As soon as they were gone, the atmosphere in the kitchen shifted, the pretense of normality falling away.
“We need to get our stories straight,” Mikhail said without preamble. “About what happened in the study.”
Ella looked between us, her expression sharpening. “What exactly did happen? You’ve both been vague about the details.”
I exchanged a glance with Mikhail, a silent negotiation passing between us. He nodded slightly, yielding the floor to me.
“After you got Nora out,” I began carefully, “Alexei tried to reach the panic room. Mikhail stopped him. There was a struggle.” I paused, choosing my words. “Two of Alexei’s men came in. They were armed. They fired first.”
“And you defended yourselves,” Ella concluded, her voice neutral.
“Yes,” Mikhail confirmed. “It was... necessary.”
She absorbed this, her face giving nothing away. “And Alexei?”
“Alive,” I assured her. “He was alive when we left.”
She nodded, seeming satisfied with this. “Then that’s what we tell Interpol. The truth.”
“A version of it,” Mikhail amended. “Simplified.”
“No,” Ella said firmly. “The truth. I’m done with lies and half-truths. They’ve cost us too much already.”
I felt a surge of pride at her resolve, at the steel that had always been there beneath her gentle exterior.
“There’s something else we need to discuss,” Mikhail said after a moment. “Arrangements for Nora.”
And there it was—the conversation we’d been circling since the rescue. I moved to Ella’s side, a silent show of support as she straightened her shoulders.
“She stays with me,” she said, no room for negotiation in her tone. “That’s non-negotiable.”
“Of course,” Mikhail agreed readily. “But I want to be part of her life, Ella. I’ve lost eight years already.”
“And whose fault is that?” she asked, though without real heat. “You chose to let us believe you were dead.”
“To protect you,” he countered. “Both of you.”
“I understand why you did it,” Ella conceded. “But that doesn’t change the fact that Nora has grown up without a father. She barely knows you.”
“Which is why I need time with her,” he pressed. “To build a relationship.”
I remained silent, though every protective instinct in me wanted to intervene. This wasn’t my decision to make. It was Ella’s—and ultimately, Nora’s.
“What exactly are you proposing?” Ella asked, finally.
Mikhail set down his coffee cup. “I’m staying in Canada. I’ve already arranged for a house in Toronto. I want Nora to visit regularly. Weekends, perhaps. Holidays.”
“That’s going to be a little difficult because Nora and I are staying at Wolfcreek.”