Ivana giggles. And Davika gives me an apologetic smile.
The breakfast smells and tastes like heaven. And I eat in silence while the rest joke and talk around. It’s not awkward or anything, and I don’t feel left out because they seem to ask mesimple questions that require a nod or a head shake, which I am grateful for.
I try to sit properly, keep my legs from bouncing nervously under the table, but it’s hard. This doesn’t feel real. I’m in Alex’s family home. At the breakfast table. With his family —not all of them, since his father and elder brother aren’t here —but still.
Ivana occasionally glances my way with a smile, and Davika—God, this woman keeps piling things onto my plate with the softest hums.
“Sasha tells me you eat a lot,” she mutters quietly with a smile, pressing a soft pancake onto my already-full plate. “And trust me, I find that adorable. I love going on restaurant hopping, and will be happy taking you with me all the time.”
I look at her with surprise on my face.
“Look who finally shows up,” Maksim says suddenly, loud enough that everyone looks up.
I follow their gaze, and there he is.
Alex.
He walks in like he owns the air. In that calm but powerful way of his. Dressed in black, with sleeves pushed up and hair slightly messy. My breath catches when his eyes find mine.
He doesn’t respond to Maksim’s jab. Doesn’t even look at him.
Instead, he walks straight to me. And then, his hand brushes the back of my neck, warm and firm. His thumb presses gently into my skin in a slow, absent circle, and I swear I stop breathing. His scent hits me—deep, clean, him. I try to focus on the food, but all I can think of is that kiss last night, that heat, his mouth on mine, and now this simple touch that makes my whole body hum.
“Good morning, mother,” he says, giving Davika a small smile
“Morning, darling,” Davika replies smoothly, her eyes soft when she looks at him. They speak in Russian for a while, the words smooth and melodic, with the occasional nod or amused glance from Igor and Ivana. Davika speaks the language like she’s known it her entire life, even though she’s not Russian.
Then Maksim pipes in. His tone’s too slick to be innocent.
Alex’s jaw ticks. He replies in a sharper Russian that sounds like a snap.
Ivana leans closer to me with a grin.
“He asked Maksim why he’s acting like a spoiled bitch.”
I suppress my grin, almost choking on a strawberry.
Maksim barks something back in Thai.
Alex ignores him.
He looks down at me again, his hand still resting lightly on my neck.
“Are you done eating?”
I give him a nod
“Good,” he murmurs. His hand shifts to my arm and urges me up gently. “There’s something I want to show you.”
I stand without thinking, still gripping the napkin in my hand. My heart is pounding way harder than it should be for someone just… leaving a dining table.
But with Alex’s hand still on me, guiding me, I don’t think I can focus on anything else.
***
I follow Alexander down a stone path behind the mansion. I don’t ask where we’re going, but then the smell hits me first—fresh hay, leather, and something deep and earthy that immediately reminds me we’re far from the polished floors and silk curtains of the mansion.
Then a long, wide building made of pale stone and dark wood beams, with an open courtyard in front, comes into view.Sunlight spills across the roof, catching on the metal accents and the weather vanes that spin lazily in the breeze.
