Alexei’s gaze flicks to the cat, then back to me. “So, his name is Alyosha?” he asks. His voice is quiet but threaded with something raw.
I shrug, striving for nonchalance despite the violent thudding of my heart. “It suits him,” I say tartly. “He’s quiet, aloof, and secretive. Seemed fitting.”
His mouth curves slightly, but there’s no humor in it. “You shouldn’t lie,zayka. You were never good at it.”
Hearing him call me that name hits somewhere deep and dangerous. My anger surges up to smother the ache. “You broke into my apartment,” I snap. “You don’t get to show up here and act like you know me.”
He doesn’t flinch. “Your security is pathetic. One basic lock, and I was in. If I could get in, anyone could.”
My hands shake as I cross my arms. “Oh, I’m so sorry my locks aren’t up to your criminal standards.”
His eyes flash, but his tone remains calm. Too calm. “I’m here because it’s time for you to come home.”
I blink. “Home?”
He steps closer, the scent of cold air and leather rolling off him. “You’ve graduated. You’re done here.”
I laugh, the sound brittle and bitter. “You’ve barely spoken to me in four years, and now you decide where I live? What I do?”
His expression doesn’t change. “You belong in New York.”
“No,” I say, louder now. “You made it pretty clear back then that I don’t belong anywhere near you.”
Something flickers across his face. Guilt? Maybe regret, but it’s gone before I can name it.
“I have job offers,” I go on, lifting my chin. “Good ones. I haven’t decided which one to take yet. And for the record,” I lie smoothly, “Bryant is my boyfriend. So maybe think twice before growling at him next time.”
The silence that follows is thick, dangerous. Alexei’s jaw flexes once, twice.
“Your boyfriend,” he repeats softly, and the way he says it makes goosebumps rise along my arms.
“Yes.”
He takes another step forward. I step back until my back hits the wall. The cat meows again, almost like he’s warning me, and scampers off toward the kitchen.
Alexei’s gaze drops to my mouth, then back to my eyes. “Then why are you shaking, zayka?”
My breath catches. “Because you’re in my house,” I whisper.
His voice drops to a dangerous whisper. “And because you still want me here.”
His steps are slow but deliberate. Each one shortens the space between us until mere inches separate us and my lungs forget how to work.
Alexei lifts a hand—unhurried, deliberate—and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, just like he did that night at my birthday. The memory slices through me, sharp and sweet. I should step away. I should tell him to leave. But the warmth of his fingers near my skin, the way his body radiates heat, keeps me rooted in place.
“Bozhe,” he murmurs, his breath brushing my cheek. “You’re all grown up.”
My pulse trips. I can’t tell whether it’s fear or something darker twisting low in my belly.
He looks down at me with those ice-blue eyes–eyes that used to feel like safety, now edged with something dangerous. “I wish things could’ve been different,zayka,” he says quietly. “Four years ago…I didn’t reject you because I didn’t want you.”
The words slice through the haze, making my throat tighten. “Then why?”
“I did it to keep you safe.” His jaw flexes. “My father was a monster. You know this. If he’d seen how I looked at you, what I felt for you…” His eyes flash with cold fury. “He would’ve used you against me. He would’ve destroyed you to punish me.”
I can hear the truth in his voice, the restraint and self-loathing. It’s like the air between us hums with all the words he never said, all the touches he never let himself give.
“But Yuri’s gone now,” he continues, his tone darkening, soft but final. “And there’s no one left to stop me.”
