“It wasn’t my secret to share,” I tell her. “However, I tried to prepare you for the possibility when you contacted me.”
Anya crinkles her nose in confusion, and the sight makes me gooey inside. I never thought I’d ever admit to feeling gooey, but here we are. She is the most beautiful and adorable woman I’ve ever met. I want to pull her into my arms and kiss her until ourlips go numb. However, I refrain from acting on my impulses and just grin at her. “I’m NOLAKING, Princess.”
Anya’s eyes widen in surprise. “You’re NOLAKING?”
I nod. “I’m sorry for not coming clean earlier, but the situation kept me from revealing the truth.”
“What situation?” Anya asks, looking from me to Alexi. “You’re home. You can take back what is yours. Father will be thrilled.”
Alexi glances at me for help, but I offer him none. He then looks at Dominic, but finds no support from him either. Alexi heaves out a sigh. “I don’t want Father to know I’m still alive.”
“Why?” Anya asks.
The knock on the door allows Alexi to stall. Dominic opens the door and signs for the food. He holds up the bag the server brought with him. I point to my room. After Dominic drops the bag off in my room, he returns and helps move the food to the coffee table so we can all sit. I ordered several appetizers and a variety of desserts. Anya fills her plate with a sample and sits back, an expectant look directed at Alexi.
Alexi ignores her until he has his plate in hand, then he lets out an exasperated sigh.
Before he explains, however, Anya takes pity on him. “Before we get into that, tell me what happened to you?”
I leaned against the back of the leather chair, arms folded, letting Alexi talk. This was his story first. I could fill in the gaps later. Anya sat on the edge of the sofa, fingers twisted in her skirt so tightly her knuckles had gone white. Dominic stayed near the window, giving the illusion of distance while watching everything.
Alexi drew a careful breath. Even now, breathing too deeply still hurts him. “We were supposed to have lunch at Pavel’s nightclub. Oleg and Artem were supposed to join us,” he toldAnya. “I remember leaving the house to meet them, but I don’t remember what happened after.”
My jaw clenched. Pavel’s nightclub had always made my skin crawl—too many shadows, too many ways to disappear. I’d warned Alexi once. I should’ve warned him twice.
“I don’t remember anything until waking up on the ship. Whatever happened left me broken and bruised. It took me the entire trip back here to be able to walk again.”
Anya gasped softly, her hand flying to her mouth. I watched her shoulders tense, watched her lean forward as if she could reach back through time and pull him away from it.
“I don’t know how I got there.”
Their attention shifted to me all at once. I straightened, unfolding my arms. There was no avoiding it now.
“When you arrived in the United States, you were unconscious,” I said. “Barely breathing. The damage was extensive, but I hired the best doctor I could find to treat you.”
Anya’s eyes flashed. “How did you even find him?”
I exhaled slowly, choosing precision over comfort. “I was contacted by a man in the Ukrainian Army,” I said. “Someone I worked with years ago. He recognized Alexi. I believe he worked for your father before leaving to fight for Ukraine.”
“But who hurt you?” Anya asks.
“My contact said it was members of the Russian Army. I don’t know if this is true or not. They could have been in disguise. Whoever kidnapped Alexi grabbed him either on his way to the nightclub or soon after he arrived. They transported him to Ukraine and staged the attack so it would look like he died while fighting for Russia. They planted a story that Alexi had enrolled in the army to help Russia.”
“Father knew you wouldn’t have enrolled,” Anya insists. “He knew how much you disapproved of Russia’s attack on Ukraine.”
Alexi swallowed hard. His gaze dropped to the floor. “I’ve had nightmares since waking up. Boots, pain, voices. Then nothing.”
“The territory changed hands two days later,” I continued. “Ukrainian forces pushed the Russians out. They found him in what passed for a holding structure—half-frozen, feverish, infection already setting in.”
The room went silent. I could hear the echo of the ship’s engines again in my head, smell antiseptic and saltwater, feel the tension of those hours when his life balanced on a razor’s edge.
“They evacuated him immediately,” I said. “Official channels would’ve taken too long. I arranged private transport. New Orleans was the safest option—doctors who ask no questions and know how to keep their mouths shut.”
Alexi let out a weak, incredulous laugh. “I don’t remember being in NOLA. Now I’m mad. I would have loved to try the gumbo. I woke up on the ship.”
Anya surged forward then, wrapping her arms around her brother. Alexi hugs her back. They’re both crying. I turned slightly away, granting them privacy. Tender moments weren’t my terrain, but I respected them.
When Anya pulled back, her eyes were wet—and sharp. She looked straight at me. “You saved him.”
