Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Ronan
"She's stable. Go get some sleep."
Ryan didn't move. She was afraid if she let go, Rose would wake up again.
"Emily will watch her," I said. "I'll be here too. We'll tell you the second anything happens."
She glanced at me, then carefully pulled her hand from behind Rose's back. Ryan braced herself on the edge of the bed to stand. Her legs buckled, and she nearly fell. I reached out instantly to catch her.
"I can walk on my own."
"Yeah." I held her arm firmly. "I know you can."
She shot me a look but didn't push back, leaning most of her weight against me. I steadied her as we moved toward her room. Her steps were uneven, so I pulled her closer, letting her lean into me.
At the bed, I helped her sit. She collapsed like someone had cut her strings, falling back hard against the mattress. I bent over her quickly, felt her breathing steady out. My chest loosened.
"Ryan, I—"
"Rose should sleep through the night now. You can rest too. Just remember to keep Luna next to her pillow." Her voice was hoarse. "Whatever else you need to say... tomorrow."
I wanted to ask her so many things. Most of all about her holding Rose, saying, "Mommy's here." But looking at how worn down she was, I swallowed it all.
"Okay. See you tomorrow."
She nodded slightly, turned over, and her breathing evened out. I backed out and closed the door without a sound.
Standing in the hallway, I took a deep breath and called to Andrew as he passed.
"Andrew, have the kitchen bring up a bowl of broth from this morning. Keep it warm. When Ryan wakes up, take it to her."
"Yes, sir."
After confirming Rose was sleeping peacefully, I headed to the study.
I threw my jacket over the chair and sat down at the desk.
Rose's screams from last night kept echoing in my head, wouldn't let go.
For one moment, I'd actually believed Ryan was Rose's mother.
But Natasha... After Natasha died, Rose never brought up her mother on her own.
That kind of fixation doesn't just appear out of nowhere.
"Declan, pull all the surveillance footage from Rose's floor. Focus on the last four days. I want every detail."
"You think—"
"Yeah."
Declan's fingers flew across the keyboard. Once he had it, we watched section by section.
At first, everything looked normal. Walks, meals, games. Nothing special.
"Ryan's room."
The feed switched. During Rose's nap, Victoria had gone to Ryan's room. I pulled up the audio. Victoria was asking to participate in the treatment. Ryan had been right. I felt a stab of guilt for doubting her.
"Pull up Rose's feed again. Especially after she fell asleep."
Four thirty-seven. A figure appeared at Rose's door. Victoria.
Rose must have woken up partway through.
She was stroking Luna's head, about to go back to sleep.
Victoria sat on the edge of the bed and held something in front of Rose.
The moment Rose saw it, her whole body started shaking uncontrollably.
Victoria leaned close to her ear, saying over and over that she couldn't forget Mommy.
Luna sensed Rose's fear and tried to protect her.
Victoria grabbed the cat. She cursed about how the little thing shouldn't be here at all and tried to clip its nails.
I couldn't watch anymore. Rose breaking down on that screen felt like a blade twisting into my chest, so sharp I could barely breathe.
I'd spent four years searching for the best child PTSD specialists in the world.
Rose refused to open up to any of them. Until Ryan came along and slowly melted the ice around Rose's heart, making her better bit by bit.
And Victoria had destroyed all of it in a matter of minutes.
I didn't want to think about whether she'd been doing this for the past four years, too, constantly bringing up Natasha, keeping my daughter trapped in that shadow.
I couldn't imagine Rose going back to that closed-off state. Even the thought made me want to lose my mind.
"Declan. Bring her in."
Victoria walked into the study. "Ronan, what is it?"
"Take a look at this first." I nodded at Declan to hand it over.
"That can wait. I want to talk about Rose—"
"The day you went into Rose's room," I cut her off, "what did you show her?"
Her face went white. "I-I..."
"You mentioned Natasha, didn't you?"
Victoria swallowed hard, stammering. "I... I didn't say anything."
"Still lying?" I laughed coldly. Two guards stepped forward and grabbed her arms.
"Ronan! What are you doing? I'm Rose's aunt, you can't—"
"I'd rather Rose didn't have an aunt like you." I barely kept myself from killing her on the spot. Declan stepped forward and played all the recordings and footage. Victoria's face turned ashen. She crumpled to the floor.
"Talk. What did you show her?"
"It was... Natasha's photo..." She struggled to crawl toward me, clutching at my pant leg. "Ronan, I didn't mean to! I just—I just thought Rose should remember what her mother looked like..."
She choked out incoherent excuses. "Ever since Ryan came, Rose has been getting better, but she's been more and more distant with me. I just felt Rose shouldn't be so cold to her own family. I just wanted her to remember Mommy, remember all of us..."
For a moment, I really wanted to rip away the whole truth.
But the words stuck in my throat. Once I tore off that cover, it wouldn't just be about how Natasha died.
It would drag in the remnants of the Romanov family and all the old gossip about that marriage alliance. I didn't need that kind of trouble.
"My biggest regret is letting you stay in this house for four years out of some stupid consideration." I swallowed the rage about to explode and stared at her coldly. "Now get out."
"What? Ronan, you have no right to—" I pulled out my gun and pressed it to her forehead. Her voice caught. Terror filled her eyes.
"For Rose's sake, I'll let you live. But if you push me, I won't hesitate to send you to hell."
"You—I need time to pack—"
"You leave the manor by noon. Until Rose's treatment is completely finished, you stay away from her."
"Yes. I understand."
"Declan, make sure she's off the property."
"Yes."
"After you, Miss Romanova." Declan grabbed Victoria and escorted her out.
The next morning, I went to bring Ryan coffee. As I reached the second floor, a maid came out of her room carrying an empty soup bowl. So she'd had the broth.
"She's up?"
"Yes, sir." The maid bowed slightly. "About half an hour ago. Miss Clark is in Rose's room now."
Rose's door was half open. I pushed it gently. Ryan sat on the bed, holding a small bowl, feeding Rose oatmeal with milk. Rose leaned against Ryan's shoulder, looking much better.
"Slow down, baby. One more bite, okay? That's it. You're doing so well..."
Rose ate obediently, then yawned. Ryan settled her against the pillows, smoothed her hair, and tucked Luna into her arms.
I knocked on the doorframe. She saw me and came over.
I held out the tray. "Coffee," I said. "Breakfast will be up in a minute."
She took it. "Thanks."
"By the way, Victoria moved out of the manor."
"What?" Her eyes widened. "That was sudden."
"I looked into it," I said. "Rose's breakdown was Victoria's fault. She snuck into Rose's room and showed her a photo of Natasha. It won't happen again. She won't come near Rose until the treatment's done."
"I knew it." She sipped the coffee. "Looks like Mr. Valerius finally learned to investigate before getting angry."
"It was my mistake."
"Can't blame you entirely. At least Rose isn't as bad off as we thought."
"Ryan, you should take a few days off," I said. "Emily and I can handle Rose."
She shook her head. "Can't switch people now. This stage is critical. I can hold on a few more days."
"Ryan—"
"Ronan." She looked up. "As long as Rose is okay, I'm fine."
I looked at her and felt something warm and tight in my chest. This was her job. But it seemed like more than that.
"Okay," I nodded. "Make sure you eat breakfast."
"Mm-hmm."
Declan came down the hallway with a stack of files, stepping aside when he saw me. I sat down at my desk. Declan set the papers on the edge.
"Clearance confirmation for that Boston shipment."
"Good."
"Also," he paused, "I got to the bottom of that thing with Ryan and Nick."
I looked up.
He sat on the couch. "It was just a regular dinner. Nick Sterling picked the place. He's interested in Miss Clark, but Ryan already turned him down. She only agreed to that meal because Nick asked her to."
"As for Eurasia," Declan shook his head, "like I said, you were being paranoid. Ryan had no idea what that place was. To normal people, it's just a restaurant with hot springs."
"So, Ronan, Ryan's put up with your bad moods for months now. Way more than any employee should have to."
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. "I doubted her. And I did those things to her... Was I wrong?"
"Not just that one thing. Every shitty thing you've done to her was wrong."
That night, I didn't sleep at all. Lying in bed, I replayed every moment with Ryan, one scene after another. I had to admit I'd been afraid.
Afraid of how much space she was taking up inside me. Afraid that one day she'd become a knife at my throat or Rose's. So I'd pushed her away in the cruelest way I could.
Declan was right. Ryan wasn't Natasha. Natasha would never stay up all night for Rose. She'd never use her last bit of strength, barely holding on, to teach me how to handle Rose's episodes without making things worse.
Ryan never calculated or kept backup plans.
When she was tired, it showed on her face.
When she was annoyed, she rolled her eyes.
When she was angry, she cursed me out to my face.
When her heart softened, she'd give everything she had to a child who wasn't even hers.
Someone that vivid, that real—how could she be anything like Natasha?
Just before dawn I dozed off for two hours. After showering and getting dressed, I went downstairs. Declan was already waiting in the dining room.
"Declan. I'm going to apologize to Ryan. Properly."
Declan didn't look surprised. "How?"
"Dinner."
"That idea... Never mind, I won't hold my breath. But—" He thought for a moment. "You should pick somewhere she won't feel pressured."
"Suggestions?"
"Two blocks south of Ryan's school, there's a little Italian place called Marta's Kitchen. Ryan mentioned to Lulu she wanted to try it, but she never got the chance."
"Book it."
"Tonight?"
"Yeah."
Declan nodded and pulled out his phone. By the time I finished my coffee, he had the reservation. He stood and walked to the door, then turned back.
"Ronan, don't screw this up."
I glared at him. He shrugged and left.
I set my cup on the tray and took out my phone. The screen lit up. Ryan's name was right there in my contacts.
I opened our conversation thread. Had no idea what to type.
"Tonight at seven." Too formal.
"Free tonight?" Like an interrogation.
"Ryan, are you free for dinner tonight at six? There are some things I'd like to talk to you about in person."
Felt like it was missing something. I added another line.
"If you're too tired tonight, we can do it another day. Whatever works for you."