He stood, stretching out a hand that I instinctively took, letting him pull me to my feet. His palm slid to the small of my back, warm and possessive, as he guided me down the private staircase, the villa’s shadowed halls swallowing our footsteps. The world felt impossibly still, as if the house itself was holding its breath.
The driver opened the door, and we slid into the plush leather interior. The partition rose, cocooning us in soft darkness, separating us from the outside world.
The car purred to life, gliding silently toward home, tires whispering against the cobblestone driveway.
Dmitri turned slightly toward me, a faint smile playing at his lips—almost tender, almost vulnerable. “You seemed genuinely worried about me back there,” he said, voice quieter.
I looked out the window, focusing on the lake’s black surface sliding past, refusing to meet his gaze. “I’d do the same for anyone,” I said lightly, the words flat but carrying the weight of truth. “Basic human decency.”
His smile vanished instantly. Hurt flashed across his face, raw and unguarded, before he turned back to stare at the road ahead. The silence that followed was oppressive, thick, filled with the unspoken fears and truths we both carried.
I rested my hand lightly against the glass, tracing the dark ripples on the water as the car cut through the night.
When the car finally stopped in front of the estate, I stepped out into the cool night air—and was nearly bowled over by a small, pajama-clad missile.
“Mommy!” Vanya launched himself at me, arms wrapping tightly around my legs.
I laughed, the sound bright and genuine after the tension of the evening, scooping him up effortlessly. He buried his face in my neck, soft breath and hair tickling my cheek. “Hey, my big boy,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Did you miss me?”
“So much,” he mumbled, muffled against my skin. “Giovanni let me stay up late, but I couldn’t sleep without saying goodnight properly.”
I hugged him tighter, swaying gently. “Well, I’m here now. And I missed you too—more than you know.” The warmth radiating from his tiny body erased the weight of politics, threats, and danger, if only for a moment.
He pulled back, eyes wide and glowing in the porch light. “Did you have fun at the fancy party?”
“It was... interesting,” I said carefully, setting him down but keeping hold of his hand. His small fingers curled trustingly around mine.
We started toward the house, but Vanya suddenly wriggled free and darted toward Dmitri, who stood a few steps away, arms crossed, still shadowed by the tension of our earlier confrontation.
“Hi,” Vanya said shyly, stopping in front of him.
Dmitri’s face softened instantly, the rigid edge of his posture melting. “Hey, Vanya,” he said, crouching slightly, his voice low and warm.
“You look sad,” the boy observed, tilting his head. “Is it because you couldn’t bring the golden boat I asked for?”
I blinked—golden boat? When had that conversation happened?
Dmitri’s lips curved faintly. “I’ll get it for you tomorrow,” he promised, kneeling fully to Vanya’s level. “We could pick it out together, if your mom says it’s okay.”
Vanya’s face lit up like sunrise, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Really? I’ve always wanted to go out with my dad. This could be like a real adventure!” He spun toward me, voice bright and hopeful. “Mom, please?”
My heart stuttered at the innocent slip—my dad—but I managed a smile, the ache in my chest softening. “Alright. You can go with him. But be careful, both of you.”
Vanya beamed, turning back to Dmitri. “Don’t worry, Mom,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll bring you your favorite when we come back!”
I laughed softly, the sound catching in my throat as I watched them. Dmitri’s large hand ruffled Vanya’s hair, his eyes finally smiling in a way that made him look... human, not just a ruthless Volkov, not just the man who could destroy entire families with a word.
“Tomorrow’s going to be fun,” Dmitri said, voice soft, almost tender, as he straightened and pulled Vanya close for a quick hug.
Vanya leaned into him with a trust I had never fully felt from any adult but myself. “Promise you’ll show me the golden sails first?” he asked, eyes wide.
“I promise,” Dmitri said simply, his tone firm yet warm, the kind of promise that carried weight beyond mere words.
I stood a few steps away, watching them interact—Dmitri’s patience, Vanya’s joy, the small, unguarded moment that made the world outside the villa feel distant and unreal. A quiet, aching joy settled in my chest. For one fleeting instant, the lies, the threats, the schemes—they didn’t exist.
If only it could stay that way.
Vanya tugged at Dmitri’s hand again. “Mom, you coming too?”
