Chapter 46 Stefan
STEFAN
On the way out of the OBGYN appointment, Olivia decides she wants to go stop by Elena again for a little while.
She says she wants to be there when the doctors make their evening rounds.
I reluctantly agree, though only after extracting the promise that she doesn’t leave the room and the guards keep eyes on her at all times.
I drop her at the hospital entrance and watch her disappear through the sliding doors. I’d love to join her. Babushka loves her company, and frankly, so do I.
But there are things I need to handle at the manor. Things that can’t wait any longer.
The drive back is quiet. Just me, the hum of the engine, and the weight of the ultrasound photo in my jacket pocket.
A daughter. We’re having a daughter.
The fear of what that means is lodged deep inside me.
A harsh, nasty voice whispering that my world is not safe enough for an innocent little girl.
But beneath it pulses something darker, hungrier.
A beast with her name carved into its bones, ready to paint the skies with ash and bathe in the blood of anyone who dares threaten what’s mine.
I pull through the gates of the manor and park in the circular drive. The house looms ahead, dark and imposing against the evening sky. Workers are still installing the new security system. I can see lights on in the west wing where they’re running cables.
Taras is waiting in the foyer when I walk in. He’s got his phone pressed to his ear and a cigarette dangling from his lips.
“Yeah, I’ll call you back,” he barks into the phone. Then he hangs up and pockets it. “Yo, Stef. How’s Elena?”
“Awake. Talking. Making demands. The doctors say she can come home in a few days.”
“That’s good news.” He takes a drag from his cigarette and studies me. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks. Appreciated, as always.”
“When’s the last time you slept?”
“I don’t know. What day is it?”
He shakes his head. “You need rest, boss.”
“I need to talk to Mikayla.”
Taras goes still. “Now?”
“Yes, now.”
“Why now? You haven’t been down there in days.”
“Because if I had gone to her before, I just might have killed her,” I snarl.
He considers that. Then he nods. “Fair enough. Want me to come with you?”
“No. I need to do this alone.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
He drops the cigarette and crushes it under his boot. “Security’s been upped since the rescue attempt. She’s got three guards on rotation now. They’ll let you in.”
I nod and turn toward the stairs that lead down to the basement.
Taras calls after me. “Hey, Stefan.”
I stop and look back.
“Don’t do anything stupid, alright?”
“Like what?”
“Like killing her before we get what we need.”
“I’m not going to kill her.”
“You say that now.”
“I mean it. I just want answers.”
He doesn’t look totally put at ease, but he doesn’t try to stop me, either. I take the stairs down. Each step echoes in the narrow corridor. The basement is cool and dim, lit by overhead bulbs that cast harsh shadows on the concrete walls.
The guards straighten when they see me. One of them unlocks the door and steps aside. “Call if you need anything, pakhan,” he says.
I nod and walk in.
Mikayla is sitting on the edge of the bed, her back straight, her hands folded in her lap.
She looks up when I enter. Her dark eyes are as alive as ever, but the rest of her looks worse.
She’s thinner than she was a week ago. Her cheekbones are more pronounced, her skin paler.
None of that stops her from emanating the same dangerous energy she always has.
“Stefan,” she says.
“Mikayla. Or should I call you Mila?”
She shrugs. “Call me whatever you want.”
I close the door behind me and lean against it. “You look well.”
“Do I?”
“Better than I expected. You’re welcome for that, by the way. Three meals a day. Fresh clothes. Books when you ask for them.”
“And a concrete box to live in.” She sweeps a hand at her surroundings. “How generous.”
“You’re lucky to be alive.” I cross my arms. “Most people who betray me don’t get a trial. They don’t get fed. They just disappear.”
“Then why am I still here?”
“Because I want answers.” When her face hardens, I hold up a hand. “I’ll make you a deal. Tell me your story. From the beginning. The truth. And I’ll let you outside for a walk.”
Her eyes narrow. “A walk.”
“Fresh air. Sunlight. Grass under your feet. Remember those things?”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then you stay down here. Alone. Until I decide what to do with you.”
She stares at me for a long moment. Then she stands and walks to the small window near the ceiling. It’s barred, of course. But she can see a sliver of sky through it.
She turns back to me. “Fine. I’ll tell you. But you have to promise you’ll keep your word.”
“I promise.”
“You’ve lied to me before.”
“Not about this.”
She searches my face, looking for the deception. Then she nods and sits back down on the bed. “Where do you want me to start?” she asks.
“What happened the day of the fire?”
Her hands tighten in her lap. “Mikayla wasn’t supposed to work that day. She had the weekend off. But your mother called her in. Said there was some light housekeeping that needed to be done at the cabin before she and Vasily arrived.”
“And Mikayla went.”
“She always went. She couldn’t afford to say no.”
I nod slowly. “Go on.”
“The fire started in the evening. Mikayla called me. She was screaming, saying the cabin was on fire and she couldn’t find a way out.
” Her voice threatens to give way, so she pauses, swallowing hard before continuing again.
“I told her to break a window,” she whispers.
“To get out however she could. But the line went dead. And I never heard from her again.”
“My mother escaped.”
“Yes. Your mother escaped. But Mikayla didn’t.”
“How did you know Natalia made it out?”
“Because she came to see me. This was months later. She showed up at my door and told me what happened. Said she tried to save Mikayla but the fire was too fast, too hot. She barely made it out herself.”
I laugh bitterly. “And you believed her.”
“At first, yes. What reason did I have not to? She seemed genuinely sorry. She even offered to pay for Mikayla’s funeral. To clear our debts.”
“How generous.”
Mikayla’s eyes flash. “She offered me more than that. She offered me revenge.”
“Against who?”
“Against you.” Her teeth are bared and gleaming in the low light. She looks half-human, half-feral.
“She told you I started the fire,” I say.
“Yes. She said you were trying to kill her and Vasily. That Mikayla was just collateral damage. A casualty of your war.”
“And you believed that, too.”
“Why wouldn’t I? You admitted to setting the fire, didn’t you? You admitted to trying to kill them.”
“I did. But I didn’t know your sister was inside. I watched that cabin for hours before I lit the match. There was no one else there. Just Natalia and Vasily.”
“Maybe you didn’t look hard enough.”
“Or maybe my mother lied to you.”
She doesn’t answer.
I push off the door and take a step closer. “Think about it, Mikayla. Why would she call your sister in on her day off? Why would she ask her to do housekeeping when she and Vasily were about to arrive?”
“I don’t know.”
“Because she needed a body. She knew I was coming and she needed someone to die in that fire so I would think she was dead, too.”
Mikayla’s face goes pale. “No.”
“Yes. She used your sister. She lured her to that cabin and left her there to burn.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Don’t I? She’s done worse to people she claimed to love.”
Mikayla stands abruptly and paces to the other side of the room. Her breathing is ragged. “She cleared my debt,” she insists. “She gave me a new life.”
“She gave you a purpose,” I correct. “Revenge. Something to focus on so you wouldn’t ask too many questions.”
Mikayla stops pacing and turns to face me. “Then why did she come to me? Why offer me anything at all?”
“Because you were a weapon on the inside. Someone I would trust.”
“And you did trust me.”
“For a while.”
“Until Olivia came along.” Mikayla laughs nastily. “That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You’re angry because I chose your mother over you. Because I didn’t fall at your feet like every other woman in your life.”
“I’m angry because you lied to me. You put my family in danger.”
“Your family,” she spits in disgust. “You mean her.”
“I mean all of them. Babushka. Taras. Olivia. The baby.”
“The baby.” She shakes her head. “I never thought I’d see the day. Stefan Safonov, playing house with a woman he barely knows.”
“I know her better than I ever knew you.”
It lands like the insult it was meant to be. Mikayla flinches, then recovers. “You never wanted to know me,” she says quietly. “You wanted a blunt object to do your dirty work. And I was happy to be that for you. Until I realized you’d never see me as anything more.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it? When’s the last time you asked me about my life? My dreams? What I wanted?”
I open my mouth to respond, but at first, nothing comes out. Because she’s right. I never asked. I never cared.
“I gave you freedom. What more could you want?”
“No, Stefan. You gave me a new master. And I was so desperate, so broken, that I convinced myself it was freedom.” She walks back to the bed and sits down.
“You know, for a while, I forgot my oath to your mother. I stopped answering her calls. I turned my back on her and pledged myself to you. Really, truly pledged myself. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to.”
“So what changed?”
She looks up at me, and for the first time since I walked in, I see real emotion in her eyes.
“You chose the other one instead,” she says. “The perfect doctor with her perfect life and her perfect morals. You looked at her like she was the sun. Like she was everything you’d been waiting for. What did that make me, Stefan?”
“You were—”
“I was nothing!” she screams, interrupting me. “I was nothing to you. And once I saw that, I couldn’t see anything else.”
I feel my hands curl into fists. “So you went back to my mother.”
“I went back to the only person who ever saw me as more than a tool.”
“She doesn’t see you at all, Mikayla. She sees a pawn. Just like your sister.”
“At least she needed me.”
“I needed you, too.”
“No. You needed someone, anyone. It didn’t have to be me.”
I want to argue. To tell her she’s wrong. But the truth is, I don’t know if she is. My whole life, I’ve seen the world in terms of what is useful to me and what is not. Mikayla belonged to the former category for a long time. Now that she doesn’t anymore, I’m not quite sure what to make of her.
I turn toward the door.
“Wait,” Mikayla says. “You promised! A walk. Fresh air.”
I stop with my hand on the doorknob. “You lied to me,” I say without turning around. “For years. You put my family in danger. You almost got Babushka killed. Well… I lied, too.”
I pull the door open and step into the hallway. Behind me, Mikayla screams. “You bastard! You promised! Stefan!”
I close the door and lock it. Her screams echo down the corridor, but I don’t look back. The guards straighten as I walk past. “Keep her secure,” I order. “No one goes in or out without my permission.”
“Yes, boss.”
I take the stairs two at a time, my chest tight, my hands shaking. By the time I reach the main floor, I can still hear her screaming. Faint, but there.
Taras is waiting in the foyer. He takes one look at my face and asks, “That bad?”
“Worse.”
“Did you get what you needed?”
“I got a story. I don’t know if it’s the truth.”
“What do you want to do with her?”
I pause. The smart thing would be to kill her. Eliminate the threat and move on. But something stops me. I’m still not quite sure what it is.
“Keep her locked up,” I say finally. “I’ll decide later.”
Taras nods. “You want a drink?”
“Yeah. I want a very big fucking drink.”
We walk to my office. He pours two glasses of scotch and hands me one. I down it in one gulp and pour another.
“You okay?” he asks.
“No.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
He sits down across from me and lights a cigarette. “Suit yourself.”
I lean back in my chair and close my eyes. The ultrasound photo is still in my pocket. I pull it out and stare at it.
A daughter.
I need to protect her. And the only way to do that is to end all of this shit. But first, I need to figure out who I can trust.
And right now, that list is very, very short.