Then they call my name for the diploma.
I cross the stage, shake hands, and accept the parchment. Just as I turn to walk down the steps, something flickers at the edge of my vision.
A man in the crowd.
Dark suit. Brooding stillness.
I glance once and stop breathing.
There he is… Alexei Balshov, looking as handsome as the devil himself. He's standing near the side exit, half in shadow, elbows resting against the wall, his gaze locked on me. His eyes are the same—sharp and unreadable, like they see too much—but there’s something else there now. Something heavier. Possessive.
My world tips.
How is he here? How the hell did he even know about my graduation?
I haven't talked to any of his brothers in a while, nor have I seen him since that night. The night he kissed me like he hated himself for wanting me. The night that changed everything and nothing at all.
He shouldn’t be here. He definitely shouldn’t be here looking at me like that.
I tear my gaze away and force my legs to keep moving. The diploma crinkles in my grip. I sink back into my seat, but I can feel him—like heat at my back, like gravity itself has decided to center around him. Every laugh, every speech that follows turns to static.
I have a thousand questions and no answers. But worst of all is the one I can't shake:Why is a part of me desperate to find out what he wants?
Chapter Two
Alexei
Her name echoes through the hall, and when she steps forward to take her diploma, pride surges through me so violently it feels like pain.
Myzayka…
She’s poised and beautiful, her hair swept back, chin high, voice soft as she murmurs thanks to the dean. She looks older, but her eyes… God, those dark, luminous eyes are still the same. Wide, bright, uncertain. The same eyes that haunted me every night for four years.
She doesn’t see me at first. Not until she turns, scanning the crowd, and her gaze catches mine.
For a second, everything stops. The applause. The noise. The damn air itself.
Her lips part, a small, startled breath slipping free, and I know she feels it too… that tether, that impossible pull that never broke even after all these years. Then she looks away, pretending she didn’t see me. Pretending I’m not there.
I push off the wall and head for the exit. I’ve seen enough. My mission here is done. I head straight for the underground garage where my driver is waiting.
“South Kensington,” I say quietly to Sergei as I slide into the back seat of the car.
“Yes, boss.”
I lean back in my seat with a sigh as the car starts to move, watching the city blur past the tinted glass. Rain suddenly starts to fall—not like it's any surprise given how unpredictable London weather can be. I close my eyes, letting the rhythm of it pull me under. The memories come easily now—they always do when I let my guard down.
For four years, I’ve been waiting. Watching. Biding my time.
The time has finally come.
The first thing I did after Anya left New York was find out everything about her. Where she lived. Who she spent time with.How often she smiled…
I told myself it was protection. That I only wanted to make sure she was safe. But that was a lie.
The truth is darker.
I needed to know she was still mine.
