"We're past lies!" Alexei explodes, stopping his pacing to lean over the back of the sofa. "We know, Victoria. So you might as well just say it."
I stand. Need to be able to see all of them. Need to face this on my feet instead of sitting like something small and cornered.
"I'm not lying." My voice is steadier than I expected. "I'm not workingforEryan Nis."
I take a breath. Brace myself.
"Because IamEryan Nis."
The shock ripples through all three of them. Visible. Physical.
Zakhar speaks first, his voice barely above a whisper. "You are Eryan Nis?"
I nod. Force myself to continue before courage fails.
"Not alone. Jelena is Eryan Nis. Katarina is Eryan Nis. Other women too. We created the persona so we could hide behind it. So no single person would be the target."
"Wait." Alexei holds up a hand. Turns toward the kitchen. "Hold on."
He returns with a bottle of vodka and four shot glasses. Sets them on the coffee table with movements that are almost violent.
"We're going to need this," he says flatly.
I move to the kitchen. Return with a plate of nuts and cheese. Set it beside the vodka.
"You can't drink on an empty stomach," I tell Alexei, meeting his eyes. "Your blood sugar."
Something flickers in his expression. Softens fractionally. The reminder that I know him. That I care about his health even in the middle of this disaster.
We settle into the living room properly. Zakhar and Alexei on the sectional. Maksim and I in the leather chairs facing each other across the coffee table.
Maksim pinches the bridge of his nose. Takes a slow breath.
"Start from the beginning," he says.
So I do.
"Maksim already knows part of this." I look at Zakhar and Alexei. "When I was twelve, I was... something happened. At my father's house. A man drugged me and..."
I trail off. But they're both nodding. Understanding crossing their faces.
"After that, my father sent me to boarding school." The words come easier now. "There, I met Anne. She was my best friend. Her father was abusive. Beat her mother regularly. We watched it get worse over the years."
My throat tightens. I reach for a shot of vodka. Down it. Feel the burn chase away some of the nerves.
"When we were sixteen, Anne's father killed her mother." The words are flat. Factual. The only way I can say them. "Beat her to death in their home. Anne came from money. Old family wealth. And she wanted to do something. Help women like her mother. Women who couldn't escape."
I meet Maksim's eyes. Then Zakhar's. Then Alexei's.
"I felt the same. After what happened to me. We decided to build something. As soon as we were old enough."
I pour another shot. Don't drink it yet. Just hold it.
"At eighteen, we founded a shelter. Used Anne's trust fund. But we realized quickly it wasn't enough. Women couldn't always ask for help. And there were other victims. Sex trafficking victims. Women trapped in situations the legal system couldn't or wouldn't address."
The vodka goes down smooth. Warm.
"So Anne kept running the legitimate side. The shelter. The front-facing operations. And I..." I pause. Force myself to say it. "I became Eryan Nis. Trying to be a Robin Hood of sorts for women."
