"Well, make sure you get some rest," she said gently. "And call me if you need anything at all. Promise?"
"I promise."
After hanging up, I lay back against my pillows and stared at the ceiling.
What was I going to do?
Run? But where could I go that he wouldn't eventually find me? And Sofia was finally settling in, about to start at a wonderful school...
Stay and hope he'd ignore what he'd seen? Impossible. This was Alexander Volkov. He didn't let mysteries go unsolved.
Tell him the truth about Sofia?
The thought sent ice through my veins. I couldn't—wouldn't—let my daughter become part of his world. I'd spent five years protecting her from exactly that.
But as I lay there in the darkness, I couldn't shake the memory of how he'd looked at me this morning. The shock in his eyes, yes, but something else too.
Something that looked almost like...longing.
I rolled onto my side, pulling my pillow over my head.
Outside, moonlight painted silver patterns on the floor, cold and unforgiving as the choice I knew I'd eventually have to make.
Chapter Nine
Alexander
Saturday morning.
For most people, that meant sleeping in, leisurely brunch, or golf with friends. But for me, Saturday was just another workday—only in loungewear, handling paperwork in my study. Usually I'd rest on Sunday—well, at least part of Sunday.
But this Saturday morning, just one day after confirming that Anna Parker—the woman who'd haunted my thoughts for five years—lived right next door, I found myself completely unable to focus on work. I stood at the living room's floor-to-ceiling windows with my coffee, my gaze drifting to the neighboring yard again and again.
I'd barely slept the night before, my mind constantly replaying that scene—Anna's terrified expression, Sofia's innocent smile, and those brown eyes identical to my mother's. These questions gnawed at my sanity like insects. How old was Sofia exactly?
Five? If she really was five, that meant Anna got pregnant shortly after our night together.
Or that very night.
The thought made my heart race. We'd used protection that night—I was always careful. But protection could fail, and we'd been so lostin each other, we wouldn't have noticed any mishap. That night we were like two raging fires, consuming each other.
I took another sip of coffee. It had gone cold, bitter enough to make me grimace. Through the window, I could see the neighboring yard was still quiet. Sofia hadn't come out to play yet. Maybe they'd slept late, or Anna was deliberately keeping the child inside, away from me. The thought made my chest tighten.
To better observe their movements, I decided to work from home today. Those meetings weren't urgent anyway—Ivan could handle most of the business. I sat in my study and pretended to open my laptop, but couldn't concentrate on the financial reports and contract clauses. Every few minutes, I'd walk to the window to check if there was any activity next door.
Around ten o'clock, the back door opened and Sofia bounced into the yard. She wore a pink little dress, her red hair gleaming in the sunlight. I instinctively stepped back, hiding behind the curtains to watch her.
She played on the lawn, sometimes chasing butterflies, sometimes crouching to examine something—maybe a beetle, or a small flower. Her every movement was filled with a child's natural curiosity and vitality. Watching her, an unfamiliar warmth surged in my chest, an emotion I'd never experienced before.
Was this what it felt like to be a father? Even without certainty, even though she might not be my daughter, just watching her made me feel... complete.
Just then, a knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.
I frowned and went to answer it. Ivan stood there, his face grave.
"Pakhan, sorry to disturb you, but there's an urgent matter I need to report." His voice was low, as if afraid of being overheard.
"Come in." I stepped aside to let him enter.
