17. The Home
Chapter 17
The Home
The warmth of Alexander’s mansion wraps around me like one of Sarah’s wool blankets. The scent of woodsmoke and old leather spreads from the antique candles flickering in the corners. This place feels like home. This is where I’m safe.
I watch as my Sarah, a vision in a new, vibrant Hindi outfit and her red lipstick, turns to leave. The soft glow of the hallway lamp casts a warm light on her face, highlighting the faint lines of exhaustion around her eyes.
Harvey and Tyler have just left and are shuffling in the rain outside.
“I’m so sorry you got dragged into this,” I say. “I never wanted you to be a part of it.”
My heart aches for Sarah. She’s been through so much, and she’s still standing. She’s so strong, so resilient.
Sarah gives me a wry smile, her eyes, though rimmed with fatigue, flashing with a familiar glint of mischief. “Don’t worry,” she says. “It’s not like I’m a stranger to chaos.”
She winks a playful gesture that does little to dispel the underlying sadness I see in her eyes. She’s hiding it. She’s trying to be strong.
But I see it. I see the pain behind the mask.
“Gilbert will be okay,” I say, hoping to ease her worry. “Harvey talked to the Doctors. He’s going to make a full recovery.”
Sarah nods, her smile a bit wobbly. “Yeah, I’m on my way to see him now.” She turns to leave.
I reach out, my hand instinctively seeking hers. I pull her close, embracing her in a hug. We stand there, a silent understanding passing between us, our shared pain a bond that transcends words. Tears well up in my eyes, a bittersweet release of the tension that has gripped me for so long.
I wish I could take away her pain, her fear, her sorrow. But all I can do is be here for her.
“You’re going with Harvey and Tyler, right? In their car?” I ask, my voice choked.
The used car, a deliberate downgrade from Tyler’s usual luxury, was an attempt to live a simpler, less extravagant life. For a moment, I feel a pang of embarrassment for thinking otherwise, for assuming Tyler and his new girlfriend were in financial trouble.
It feels strange to see Sarah leaving. She’s been staying here these past few weeks, helping me recover.
Sarah nods, a watery smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, they’ll take me to the hospital.”
I close the door slowly, the heavy thud and click of the lock a comforting sound. I turn and walk back into the living room. The crackling fire in the hearth casts dancing shadows across the room, illuminating the plush velvet furniture and the antique Persian rug beneath my feet.
My gaze drifts to the large windows, looking out at the city lights twinkling in the distance. I’m overwhelmed by a sense of relief, a sense of gratitude. We’ve escaped. We’ve survived.
Alexander sits in a plush armchair by the fire, his gaze fixed on the flames, his hand rubbing his beard thoughtfully. The heat of the fire warms my face as I slump onto the couch. The worn leather cushions sink under my weight. The memory of the fight, of the violence, of the fear still clings to me. But it’s further away now, like a bad dream fading into the darkness day by day.
“That was—intense,” I say. “I’m not used to visitors other than Sarah.”
Alexander nods, his expression unreadable. The firelight dances in his eyes, reflecting a kaleidoscope of emotions—relief, exhaustion, a lingering sense of loss. He looks up, his gaze meeting mine, and I see the love but also the shadow of pain reflected in their depths. He’s carrying so much. He’s been through so much.
“At least Katerina is put away for good, and the women are okay,” Alexander says. “They’ll be integrated into society slowly, offered simple jobs. They’ll have a chance to start over, Harvey said.”
I nod, “yes, the police did good.”
He stares into the fire, his gaze distant, as if lost in his thoughts. “And Harvey will retire, he told me so,” he adds.
The soft music, Beethoven, is playing in the background. Did he put it on for me?
“He deserves it, retirement. And Tyler’s girlfriend will take on his job. Who knew she was a police officer?” I scoff, a smile playing on my lips. The world is full of surprises, and the truth is often stranger than fiction.
“Mmmhh,” Alexander says. “I wouldn’t mind a little rest myself.”
He’s thinking about the future. He’s thinking about what comes next.
“And Nikolai?” I say. “I forgot to ask—well, to be honest, I didn’t want to ask.” I still can’t believe it’s over sometimes that this nightmare is finally behind us. But a part of me is still afraid, haunted by the memory of his cold gaze and his cruel smile.
“Harvey said he’s declared dead. They haven’t found his body, but there is no way he could have survived such a fall.”
I sigh, letting my shoulders relax for the first time in what feels like forever. The weight of the past few weeks, the fear, the danger, the chaos—it all seems to fade away.
The Veles network is finally dismantled. Dexter, Cole, and Nikolai—they are gone. But the scars remain. The memories linger. I rub the healing wound on my shoulder.
I think about Zara, imprisoned alongside Katerina. Zara, who had taught me to fight, who had been both a friend and a betrayer. It is bittersweet. But I know, with a chilling certainty, that I will never forget her. I’m grateful for her lessons and for the strength she helped me find, but I’m also deeply hurt by her betrayal.
Suddenly, Alexander rises from his chair. He walks toward me, his steps silent on the plush carpet. He sits beside me on the couch, his body radiating strength. He looks deep into my eyes, his gaze intense, filled with a love that makes my heart soar. He’s my anchor. He’s my hope.
“You are my world, Ava,” he whispers, his voice is so tender that my breath catches.
He reaches out, his hand finding my hair. He runs his fingers through the silky strands, his touch gentle, his breath warm against my neck.
“I was so afraid to lose you,” he says, his voice thick . I know. I felt it, too. The fear, the desperation.
He grabs me, his fingers digging into my flesh, his grip firm. His eyes, filled with a love that burns with a fierceness I’ve never witnessed, search my face.
“Ava,” he says.
The way he says my name, the passion in his voice, sends a shiver down my spine. It’s a declaration of his love, his need, his desire. I want him. I want him with a need that consumes me, a passion that burns like a fire.
He leans down, his lips meeting mine. I close my eyes, surrendering to the feeling, the taste, the touch.
I look around, my gaze lingering on the warm glow of the fireplace, the comfortable furniture, and the sense of safety surrounding me. This is home.
“Where’s Isaac?” I ask.
“Not here,” Alexander grunts. He leans closer, his gaze intense. “And I’ve got an army of police officers watching the mansion, so tonight, Ava Parker or Anya Petrov , you can feel safe.”
The way he says my name, the two names representing the two halves of my being, makes me shiver. I’m both Ava and Anya . I’m a blend of light and darkness, of innocence and experience. But I’m also me. And I’m finally free.
“Alexander Bourne,” I say, a playful smirk tugging at my lips. “I could get used to you.”
He grins with a slow, smoldering smile that makes my heart beat. He leans in, his lips finding mine.
“I’ll need you to marry me at some point, Ava,” he says, husky.
I startle, pulling back, my heart hammering in my ribcage. “Marry you?”
“If you want to, of course,” he says. “You’re your own person, so—” His voice trails off, a smile curving his lips. He’s playing it cool, but I can see the need in his eyes. The longing. He’s serious.
He pulls out an old ring, its silver band worn smooth from years of usage. “It was my grandmother’s. My grandfather gave it to me before he passed.”
The ring is beautiful—dark silver with a green stone, an emerald, a spark of green that catches the light. I nod, tears welling up, hot and unstoppable, tracing trails down my cheeks.
“So, will you?” he asks, getting down on one knee, his eyes deep and serious. His voice is a soft rumble, a plea for a future we’ve fought so hard to reach.
“Of course I will,” I say, my voice choked.
He smiles, a flash of white teeth against his dark features, his blue eyes holding me captive. He slides the ring onto my finger, the cool silver against my skin. It fits perfectly . I pull him close, burying my face in his hair, inhaling his scent of strength and safety. He’s my home, my haven, the only place I want to be.
“I’m the luckiest man on earth,” he says.
I can’t stop giggling; joy is bubbling up inside me. I jump onto him, wrapping my arms around his neck, feeling his arms encircle me.
“I’m not doing too bad myself,” I joke, bursting into a wide smile. I tousle his hair and stroke his cheeks.
“I love you, Alexander Bourne,” I whisper. It’s a love that has been tested but only grown stronger.
“And I love you very much, Miss Parker,” he says, husky.
We are home. And we are together. This is our happily ever after. And it’s worth every struggle, every sacrifice, every tear. We’ve earned this. We’ve earned each other.