“Alexei…” I ache to comfort him but know I can’t—not now. I still need answers. “You knew for that long and said nothing?”
He meets my eyes. “If I had told you, you would have been in danger. I had to strategize. Yuri was losing control. The kidnapping of Elena Marino forced my hand sooner than I was ready.”
Katya crosses her arms. “That still doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell us after. He’s been dead for months. What was the excuse then?”
Alexei’s gaze flicks between us. “I don’t know,” he finally admits. “Maybe I didn’t want to see you in pain. Maybe I didn’t want to lose you. Knowing the truth changes nothing.”
“No,” I whisper. “It changes everything.”
He lifts his eyes to mine. I can see the exhaustion, the guilt, and the weight of the secret he’s had to carry.
“You gave us justice,” I say. “Even if you didn’t mean to.”
“I wish I felt that way,” he murmurs.
Something cold trickles through me. “Who else, Alexei? Who else did he kill?”
He drops his head, elbows on his knees. “Ivan,” he says in a rough whisper. “My mother. Two more of his wives.”
My breath catches. Though I know I shouldn’t, I stand up and crouch in front of him. I take his hands in mine, feeling the tremor in his fingers.
“Alexei…” My voice breaks. “I’m so sorry. You lived with that…knowing your father murdered your family. And yet you protected mine.”
He doesn’t look up, just lets out a breath that sounds like it’s been trapped for years.
Behind me, Katya stands quietly. Her face is pale but steady. “I need some air,” she says softly. “I’ll be on the balcony.”
She crosses to the glass doors and steps outside without another word.
It’s just Alexei and me now. We stare at each other for a long, suspended beat. Then I stand, take his hand, and pull him up with me.
“Show me the guest room,” I say.
He hesitates, then nods and leads me there.
The room is tidy, sterile…just like the living room. I push him gently down onto the bed and lie beside him, placing my head on his chest. For a while, neither of us speaks. His heartbeat thuds steadily under my ear, grounding me in a way nothing else can.
He finally breaks the silence. “Can you forgive me?”
I tilt my chin up to look at him. His eyes are searching mine, vulnerable in a way I’ve never seen before.
“Yes,” I whisper. “As long as you never keep something like that from me again.”
A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “Then I have one more secret.”
I tense but meet his gaze. “What?”
“I love you,” he says simply. “I’ve loved you for years.”
My chest tightens, my breath catching in my throat. And just like that, all the pain, all the anger, folds in on itself. I lean up and kiss him softly, then deeper, stroking my tongue along his theway he has done so many times. Alexei moans deeply into my mouth, the sound reverberating in my throat. Then I pull back, chuckling when he pouts at me like a petulant child.
“I love you,” I whisper against his mouth. “I always have.”
He pulls me into his arms and kisses me again, slowly, deeply, his hands caressing my body from my shoulders down to my breasts. My nipples harden under his touch, poking eagerly through the material of my dress. Alexei squeezes both of my breasts in his hands, his thumbs stroking my aching nipples until I moan.
Then slowly, he strips me, his hands gentle as he pulls my dress over my head. Then he unclasps my bra and releases my breasts before skimming my damp panties down my legs. He pulls back just enough to hurriedly undress as well.
When we're both naked, he cups my breasts in his hands again, then trails his fingers down my ribs, over my stomach and lower until his fingers graze my entrance. He touches me gently, and I gasp, pressing against him.
