His voice is flat. “She can. She will.”
I squeeze his fingers. I want to say something to fix it, but there’s nothing to fix. The damage is done—he knows it, and so do I.
He goes quiet after that, the weight of everything heavy in the air between us.
I sit there, looking at his face in the half-light, my hand still wrapped around his. There’s nothing romantic about this kind of honesty. It’s raw, ugly, and true.
I try to keep my voice steady. “So she’s not going to stop.”
He shakes his head once. “No. Irina doesn’t let go. Not of grief. Not of anger. She’ll keep coming.”
I swallow, pressing my free hand to my chest like I can steady my heartbeat. “And us?”
Aleksander looks at me, his expression open for once. Right now he’s just a man, not a boss, not a criminal, not a ghost from mypast. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you and Lily safe,” he says. “I promise.”
His fingers tighten around mine. He’s trembling a little. Maybe from pain, maybe from something else. I don’t pull away.
“I can’t bring Maxim back,” he says quietly. “But I can make sure I don’t lose anyone else.”
I don’t say anything—I just hold on.
Eventually, his eyes close, exhaustion winning. His breathing slows, his grip loosens, and I watch him drift off, knowing sleep is a mercy he rarely gets.
For the first time, I understand just how much he’s lost—and how much more he stands to lose. And I realize, with a heavy ache in my chest, that none of us are really safe. Not from Irina, not from the past, and maybe not even from each other.
I don’t even remember drifting off. One moment I’m perched at the edge of the mattress, watching Aleksander breathe, thinking I’ll just close my eyes for a minute—then the world dissolves.
When I wake, the room is filled with gentle morning light, and his hand is stroking through my hair. For a second, I forget everything—who he is, what he’s done, what we’ve survived. It’s just warmth and his rough fingers, slow and careful, brushing against my scalp.
I blink, lifting my head. Aleksander is already awake, propped against the pillows, watching me. There’s a strange softness in his expression—something like apology, or longing, or maybe just exhaustion.
We look at each other, a silent understanding hanging between us. We still haven’t talked about it—not really. Not about Lily,and how she’s his daughter. There’s too much to say and not enough language for any of it.
Before I can gather my thoughts, my phone vibrates against the nightstand. The sound jolts me out of the moment. I snatch it up, half-afraid of what news could possibly come next.
It’s Maya. I answer immediately. “Maya? Are you okay?”
She sounds tired, but relieved. “I was about to ask you the same thing! I heard back from Nikolai?—”
“Nikolai?” I interrupt, glancing at Aleksander, who just arches an eyebrow. “When did you talk to him?”
Maya sighs. “I met him yesterday. He was at my apartment, he and his boss, Aleksander. They were looking for you.”
I exhale sharply as I look at Aleksander. Shit. After the events of last night, I had totally forgotten about that.
She hesitates. “Are you really safe, Bella? Nikolai said you’re with Aleksander.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, guilt pricking at my conscience. I hadn’t even thought to ask about her.
“Maya, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Did they?—”
“I’m fine,” Maya interrupts. “The apartment’s trashed, but Aleksander already wired money for repairs, and—get this—he put me in some kind of safe house with actual guards. You know I’ve always wanted a bodyguard, right? Just not quite like this.”
Relief hits me so hard my knees almost give out. “Maya, I’m so, so sorry. I should have checked in?—”
“Stop,” she says, voice gentle. “You’ve had your own nightmare. Just promise you’ll let me know you’re alive next time, okay? And, um…tell your Russian mobster I’ll send him the receipts for new furniture.”
I actually manage to laugh, though it comes out shaky. Aleksander’s eyes are still fixed on mine, quietly intense, as if he’s waiting for something else—something neither of us has said yet.
