Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Lucia
The house felt different the next day, and I knew it had more to do with what was sitting in my head than anything actually changing around me.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the questions I wanted to ask Alexei, about the photo album and the glimpse of a version of him that didn’t match the man I knew now.
He had come to bed late, the mattress dipping under his weight before he pulled me against him without a word. His arm had locked around me, holding me close, and within minutes his breathing had evened out.
Alexei had fallen asleep quickly, like his body had reached its limit. It wasn’t just physical exhaustion either. I could feel it in the way he held me, in the heaviness of him, like whatever he was dealing with had followed him into the room and stayed there.
I lay awake longer than I should have, staring into the dark and thinking about it.
Not about Alessio, not about the brother I hadn’t known existed until this evening.
That should have been the thing keeping me up, the part I couldn’t make sense of.
Instead, my thoughts kept circling back to Alexei and what he was going to do next.
I wasn’t worried about whether he would handle it. I was thinking about how far he would go when he did.
And the fact that I cared more about that than anything else should have bothered me more than it did.
The next day I’d woken up alone, but a faint memory of him kissing my head and whispering gruff Russian played at the edges of my mind.
I tried to keep myself busy so I wouldn’t think about the conversation I’d broach today. I made coffee I didn’t really want and carried it into the sitting room, then picked up a book and stared at the same page long enough to realize I wasn’t reading it.
My attention kept drifting back to him, to the way he had looked the night before, steady and certain, like nothing about what he was about to do was up for question. That certainty stayed with me longer than anything else.
By the time I gave up pretending I could focus, I found myself walking toward his office.
The door was closed, but I could hear him inside.
His voice carried through the wood, low and controlled, and even though I couldn’t make out every word, I knew he was still working through whatever he had already set into motion.
I knocked once before opening the door and stepping inside.
His head came up immediately when he saw me. He was behind the desk, sleeves rolled, phone in his hand. His eyes moved over me quickly, taking everything in before he ended the call without hesitation.
“Give me an update in an hour,” he said before hanging up.
The room went quiet, and his attention stayed on me. “You’re up early.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I replied, closing the door behind me and stepping further into the room.
I didn’t rush toward him. I gave myself a second, taking him in the way I had started to do more often, like I was trying to understand something that wasn’t obvious at first glance. “I didn’t know if I should bother you—”
“You’re never bothering me,” he said instantly, cutting me off.
The silence that followed wasn’t heavy or awkward. It felt like we both knew what this was leading to, and neither of us was trying to avoid it.
I moved closer to the desk and stopped on the other side, my fingers brushing lightly along the edge as I held his gaze. I had to be honest. “I went into the library yesterday,” I said, my voice soft as I was hesitant to bring this up.
Bringing this up would never be appropriate with my father or any of the men I knew in my life. But Alexei was different. I trusted him, but most importantly, I felt safe with him.
“I know,” he replied.
“I didn’t go looking for anything specific,” I continued. “But I found a photo album.”
His gaze stayed on mine as he waited for me to continue.
“The one with the photos of you when you were younger,” I said.
He didn’t respond right away. I let the silence pass between us, letting him decide if he was going to shut it down or hear me out.
“I couldn’t help but notice how different—how happy—you were back then.”
His gaze sharpened, but he didn’t look upset. “What are you asking?”
“I’m asking about you.”
His jaw tightened, and I saw the line he kept in place when something got too close. “That’s not something you need to worry about,” he said.
“I’m not worried,” I replied. “I want to understand.”
“You understand what you need to,” he said, his tone harder now.
I didn’t argue or push. He watched me, waiting for me to maybe change the topic. I wasn’t going to, though.
“I saw who you were before you became The Butcher,” I said. “And I see who you are now. I’m not pretending there isn’t a difference. I just want to know what happened.” There was no judgment in it. No accusation.
His expression didn’t change, but he didn’t shut me down either. He studied me like he was deciding if I was worth answering, if this was something he wanted to share with me.
“You think you understand that from a few pictures?” he asked.
“No. I think something happened to you. And I think it mattered enough to turn you into who you are now.” The room went quiet, and I pressed gently. “What happened to you, Alexei?”
For a second, I thought he would tell me to leave. I saw it in the way his shoulders tensed, and how his expression went tight.
But I didn’t back off. I waited patiently and hoped he would open up to me.
His gaze dropped briefly before coming back to me, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower. “My father didn’t raise me,” he said. “He made me.”
I stayed quiet.
“They didn’t ask if I could do it. They made sure I could,” he continued and tightened his hand into a fist. “It started young. Before I understood what any of it meant. I was told what to do, and I did it. If I didn’t do it right, I learned fast what happened when I failed.”
There was no emotion in the way he said it. No hesitation.
“My father didn’t teach control first,” Alexei went on. “He taught pain. What it felt like to take it. What it looked like when you gave it back. And then he made sure I could do both without thinking about it.”
My chest tightened, but I didn’t look away.
“They put a weapon in my hand before I knew what it meant,” he said. “Showed me where to aim to make a kill shot. Told me when to pull the trigger. And they made sure I didn’t hesitate.”
His gaze stayed on mine, steady and unflinching.
“That’s how it works,” he continued. “You don’t question it. You don’t think about it, and you do what needs to be done.”
“You were a kid,” I said quietly, horrified but not wholly surprised.
“I wasn’t treated like one,” he replied. “That’s how you become this,” he said, his fist slamming on the chest over his heart. “You do it long enough, and it’s the only thing you know how to be.”
Alexei exhaled, his gaze locked on me. I felt like he held on to that like it was a lifeline in this moment.
“I didn’t know anything else,” he continued. “Didn’t need to. It made everything simple. You do the job, and you move on.” His jaw tightened slightly. “Then you walked into it,” he said.
I didn’t move as I felt my heart stop.
“And now it’s not simple,” he continued. “Because now there’s something I don’t want touched. Something I don’t want taken, and someone more precious to me that I’ll end anyone if they try.”
“Oh, Alexei,” I found myself whispering.
“That doesn’t make me better,” he added. “It makes me worse, because now when I kill, it’s to protect you, and I’ll do it without hesitation if it means keeping you safe.” He pulled me closer so I was sitting on his lap. “You should be afraid of me and what I am, of what I’m capable of.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” I said, cupping his scruff-covered cheek.
His attention sharpened at that. “You should be,” he said.
“I’m not,” I repeated, fiercer this time.
His hand came up to my jaw, firm enough that I felt it immediately, but soft enough I knew he’d never hurt me. He held my gaze for another second before leaning in and kissing me deeply, as if he needed to be sure I was here with him and accepted it all.
“You see what I am now,” he said against my lips.
I didn’t hesitate. “I see who you became, and I’m not going anywhere.”