17. Alexia
17
Alexia
T he morning sun casts a lazy glow over the sprawling lawn, softening the edges of the mansion’s stately white facade as it rises behind me. The air smells of salt and summer, carried from the harbor nearby, where sleek boats glint under the clear sky. The garden stretches down the hill, fragrant with the scent of blooming hydrangeas.
Everything about this place is serene—almost magical. But serenity is a lie here. We are surrounded by heavily armed Mafia soldiers. They’re the toughest men in the world, carrying military-grade weapons. Even though we can’t see them now, nothing is serene about our situation. No matter how beautiful this place is, it can’t calm the war brewing inside me.
Perched on the edge of the pool, dangling my feet in the cool water, I watch Nadya playing with the kids in the water. Rose laughs, her high and bright giggle ringing out as Pete splashes her. She retaliates with a handful of water, and he shrieks in delight. They’re innocent, untouched by the darkness that’s seeped into every corner of my life.
My eyes stay on my daughter, taking in her curls bouncing in the sunlight, her pink swimsuit clinging to her small frame. She’s so little, so full of light. I almost forget where I am, what I’ve done. Almost. Guilt is a slow poison, winding through my veins, seeping into the quiet moments, like this one. I can’t tear my gaze from Rose. Each giggle, each flash of her wide, innocent smile, twists the knife deeper. She doesn’t know—can’t know—that her whole existence is a lie. She’s a secret I’ve kept locked away for years. A secret I’ve convinced myself is necessary, for her safety and mine. My fingers brush against a scar on my back—a thin, jagged line courtesy of Igor’s cruelty. I shiver, and the morning warmth is unable to banish that ghostly chill.
A memory sneaks up on me before I can push it back—a fleeting image of Dave, his arm around me as we lay tangled in his bed. Back when we were together, he talked about having a big family with me. That goofy grin of his would light up his gorgeous face. I would pretend to be shocked at that notion. In reality, I felt a spark of hope in those moments. Raising a big family with Dave was all I ever wanted from life since I can remember. That dream died when I chose to marry Igor to protect those I loved.
I pull my gaze back to Rose, but it’s like trying to hold sand in a tight fist. The images of Dave from last night worm their way back in, softening something brittle inside me. What we shared was so unguarded that, for a second, I allowed myself to believe that maybe he might still care. I push the thought away. That boat sailed five years ago. I can’t let myself hope, can’t let myself forget what I’ve done.
Rose squeals as Pete does a cannonball into the water, soaking both her and Nadya. She looks over her shoulder, her bright green eyes searching until they land on me. She beams, her smile as pure as sunlight, and I manage to smile back. The guilt tightens in my stomach. Rose should be able to look at Dave with that same love, that same open adoration. She doesn’t know the truth, and I can’t imagine what will happen when she does.
These past few days, I’ve seen a gentler side of Dave—one I’d almost forgotten he had. He’s ruthless, capable of things I can barely wrap my head around. Yet seeing the way he protects everyone he loves makes it clear where his loyalties are. I want to believe he would accept Rose as his own if he knew the truth—one has only to observe the way he interacts with her, like she’s something precious.
At the same time, I can’t ignore his true nature. Dave is a passionate man. What if I don’t tell him the truth and he finds out on his own? What would he do then? He would definitely feel betrayed. He might think I’ve robbed him of something sacred. If I told him myself, would he still hate me? Or would he forgive me for coming clean?
Forgiveness doesn’t come easily for Dave. If he views my actions as betrayal, I might lose him completely. He may accept Rose, but can he accept me?
I dig my nails into my palms. Either way, the fragile trust between us would shatter and I’d lose any chance of giving Rose the life she deserves.
Secrets are shackles, I think, the familiar bitterness compressing my chest.
Resting a hand over my heart, I take a deep inhale. My gaze flickers to the mansion behind me, its walls looming. The weight of what I’m hiding feels heavier here, with him close. I know it’s only a matter of time before the walls I’ve built come crashing down.
As if drawn by my thoughts, Dave steps out of the house, his gaze locking onto mine as he strides toward the pool. My heart skips, the weight of my secrets pressing heavier than ever.
“Mind if I join you?” His voice is low but reaches every corner of my body.
I manage a small smile, even as my pulse skitters. “Go ahead.”
He tilts his head toward two chairs flanking a round table. Accepting his silent invitation, I leave the edge of the pool and cover the few steps separating us. I take one chair. He pulls the other chair close to mine, closer than necessary, and sinks into it with the kind of relaxed confidence that feels both familiar and foreign. His gaze drifts over to the kids, and for a moment, there’s something soft in his eyes. It’s that look he has when he thinks no one is watching, the one that makes him seem almost vulnerable.
“Your daughter’s got quite the arm,” he murmurs, watching as Rose throws Pete a colorful ball. The pride in his voice catches me off guard, and I feel a pang, sharp and deep, twisting with the guilt already settled in my gut.
“Yeah,” I agree, letting out a small, shaky laugh. “She’s feisty.”
His gaze snaps to mine. With a smirk, a slight tilt of his mouth that’s more devilish than gentle, he teases me, “She got it from you. I don’t remember you being the quiet type, Alexia.”
His words send a warm flush creeping up my neck. I focus on Rose, who’s now attempting to dunk Pete, his shrieks filling the air.
I nod. “Maybe a little. But I was also a lot more reckless back then.”
“And now?”
The question hangs between us, heavy and loaded. There’s a glint in his eye, something teasing but also searching. Like he’s trying to pull the answer from me without asking directly. He wants to know if I’ve changed, if the woman I was still exists somewhere beneath the layers of scars and secrets.
“I’ve had to learn restraint,” I reply softly.
Every decision, every step, feels like a balancing act on the edge of a cliff. I can’t afford recklessness, not when one wrong move could unravel everything.
He holds my stare and I notice a slight tension in his jaw, as if he understands exactly what I’m not saying. He glances at the kids again, a faint smile tugging at his mouth, but there’s something guarded in his eyes. The Dave I used to know would have pressed further, would have teased me until I broke. But this Dave is holding back, his silence just as heavy as my own.
“What do you miss the most?” he asks suddenly, his tone softer. When I frown in reply, he clarifies, “Did you leave anything behind when you escaped Igor that you wish you hadn’t?”
The question is so unexpected it catches me off guard. He’s not talking about the mansion, or even our past. He’s asking about the world outside, the life I left behind.
“My cousin, Olivia,” I confess. “We’ve always been very close, like sisters.”
He tilts his head, studying me. There’s something tender in his gaze, a warmth that softens the tension around us. “Olivia,” he whispers as if testing the name. “That one’s a handful.”
A laugh bubbles up, and I meet his gaze. I shouldn’t be surprised he remembers her. “You have no idea,” I say, shaking my head. “However, she has always been there for me. If she knew where I was, she’d probably storm this place herself.” I drop my gaze, suddenly aware of the dangers involved in a situation like that. I return my eyes to his. “I can’t reach out, can I? If Igor even suspects I’ve contacted her, he could find us.”
Dave presses his lips into a stern line before offering me a lopsided smile. “You’re safe here as long as we don’t take unnecessary risks,” he replies, his voice almost too casual.
He leans back in his chair, stretching out with the ease of someone who knows he’s in control. His gaze slides to Rose again, and for a brief second, something raw flashes in his eyes. There’s a longing there, one I recognize because I feel it too—a desire for something neither of us can have, not without tearing open wounds that have never really healed.
I reach over, my hand finding his on instinct. The contact jolts both of us, and for a heartbeat, neither of us moves. His hand is warm, solid, grounding, but the tension thrums between us. I pull back, my cheeks burning, but he holds my gaze, his eyes dark and intense, like he’s searching for answers in mine.
“Alexia,” he groans, his voice rougher than before. “You don’t have to carry it all alone.”
His words hit me harder than they should, and I have to look away, blinking back the sudden sting of tears. He doesn’t know, and he can’t know, how much weight I’m carrying. I can’t tell him what I know about Igor without risking his life.
“Sometimes,” I manage, forcing a smile, “it feels like that’s all I know how to do.” I shake my head and add, “Rose is my only concern. After you and the Syndicate take care of Igor, I will be able to breathe.”
He scans my face, a flicker of an emotion—maybe regret—shadowing his expression. I wonder what he’s hiding. When he finally looks away, it feels like I’ve lost something all over again.
I follow Dave’s stare. His gaze is glued to Rose and Pete. The kids are drenched and dripping as they plot their next move against Nadya, who’s already bracing herself for another onslaught of splashes. They form their own world, caught in a bubble of innocence and joy.
Dave leans back beside me, one arm draped over the back of my chair, close enough that the heat of his skin radiates through my muscles. I take a deep breath, the salty breeze saturating my lungs. For a moment, I allow myself the illusion of peace.
But illusions are fragile. They shatter when reality presses too close.
I catch myself glancing at Dave out of the corner of my eye, watching him watch Rose. His expression is soft, unguarded. There’s a tenderness that takes me aback. I have that exact look on my face whenever I watch Rose. It’s a look so vulnerable that it makes me ache.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He breathes as if he doesn’t want to break the spell cast over the moment. “The way they play, how easy it all feels.”
I swallow past a lump forming in my throat. “Yes, it’s almost normal.”
The word barely leaves my lips before the pang it carries hits me like a brick wall.
Normal.
A life where Rose could know her father without this wall of secrets between them. Where I could trust that she’s safe and that we could be a family.
His hand shifts on the back of my chair, fingers inching closer, almost brushing against the fabric of my silk blouse. There’s a raw vibration in the air. Does he feel it, too? I don’t know if it’s comfort or yearning. These feelings are tangled in a knot that only tightens the longer I stay around him.
“Earth to Alexia!” He nudges me back into the moment. I turn my attention to him. A soft smile curves his lips. “You seem so far away.”
“I was just…” I hesitate, afraid of the honesty creeping into my words. “Just thinking how grateful I am for your help. For the way you’ve been with Rose. For everything you’re doing.” Gratitude warms my chest, but I am also conflicted. I know it comes with a price—a truth I’m still hiding.
He shrugs. “It’s no great deal.”
I smile. “You’ve never accepted credit well. Always so quick to play down your part, like it’s nothing.”
He doesn’t respond, only shifts his gaze back to the kids. The muscles in his jaw tighten. Maybe he feels it too, the weight between us, the thin threads of a life we almost shared.
My heart twists, the memories of last night slipping back into my mind. The way he looked at me, touched me, like he never wanted to let go of me. I can’t fall for that illusion, though. Once Igor is not a threat, I doubt Dave will want us around any longer.
My thoughts coil around me. Dave has always denied the label of hero, despite always making the right choices, always telling it as it is. But what does that make me? A villain for hiding his daughter from him? Even if I did it for the right reasons. How could I explain to him that I only wanted to keep her safe? Hell, I was trying to keep him safe by avoiding a war. Would that warmth in his eyes turn to ice? Would he look at me the way he stares down his enemies?
I can’t breathe. The fear of losing him paralyzes me. At the same time, part of me hopes against all logic that he could forgive me. Maybe, despite everything, he might understand I did what I thought was best for everyone—except me.
His voice breaks the silence, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’d do anything to keep her safe, wouldn’t you?”
I meet his gaze, holding it for a heartbeat before answering in a raspy voice, “Yes. Anything.”
He nods and I feel it again—that same pang of longing for a life that could’ve been ours. His fingers inch a little closer; the warmth from his hand is like an unspoken promise, or maybe just a ghost of what I wish could be.
The kids’ laughter reaches us again, a reminder of the innocence they still have. I can’t help but wonder how long it will last before the truth inevitably has to come out.
Dave’s fingers brush mine before he covers my hand resting on the table. His touch sends a current through me, grounding and electrifying all at once. We both freeze, neither of us daring to move, caught in a delicate balance. Although I know this can’t last, that doesn’t stop me from wishing that maybe, somehow, it could.
As if he could read my mind, Dave gives me a reassuring smile. It feels like a sign of his own unspoken hopes that we could be more than allies. This smile makes it too easy to imagine a life where he’d keep us both, where I wouldn’t have to guard every word.
But real life isn’t like that—at least, not for someone like me. I’m a woman who’s never stopped loving the father of her child. Yet I’ve been lying to him, and everyone else, about it for five years.
We can’t go on like this forever. I’m aware of that.
I just need to find the right moment and the right words.