"Well," Konstantin said finally. "Guess we need to meet her."
My chest tightened. "Not yet. Not until she's ready. She's overwhelmed enough without adding the full Besharov experience."
"Fair." Konstantin's grin turned wicked. "But eventually. Maya's going to want to compare notes."
I groaned. The thought of my brothers' partners dissecting my relationship was horrifying. Inevitable, probably, but horrifying. Maybe there was some comfort in it. Auralia might enjoy the companionship. But not yet.
Nikolai was watching me with that quiet, knowing expression. The one that said he understood more than I was willing to admit. The one that reminded me, despite everything, that I wasn't alone in this.
"Bring her to Sunday dinner," he said. "When she's ready. Sophie will make her feel welcome."
It wasn't a command. Just an invitation. The particular offer of family that meant more than any tactical alliance.
I nodded. Didn't trust my voice.
Konstantin leaned back in his chair, that shit-eating grin spreading across his scarred face. "Tell me, brother—does she know you've spent more time with your encryption software than actual human beings for the past decade?"
"Kostya—"
"Does she know about the billion monitors? The fact that you talk to algorithms more than people? That you once forgot to eat for three days because you were tracking a data breach?"
"That was one time."
"It was three times." He held up fingers, counting. "I kept a list."
The fluorescent lights hummed overhead. Nikolai was smiling faintly—the tired, fond expression of a man who'd watched his brothers needle each other for decades and had long since stopped trying to intervene.
"I'm happy for you," Konstantin continued, and something in his voice shifted. The mockery fading into something warmer. "Really. You deserve someone who sees past the screens and the silence. Someone who makes you show up as an actual person instead of a ghost in the machine."
The words landed somewhere unexpected.
"Maya changed you," I said quietly.
"Maya broke me open." His grin was softer now. "Best thing that ever happened. Worst thing too, some days. Loving someone that much—it's terrifying."
Nikolai set down his files. The motion was slow, deliberate. When he looked at me, his grey eyes held something I couldn't quite name.
"You look terrified," he observed.
No point lying. Not to them.
"I am."
The admission came out smaller than I intended. More honest.
"It’s different," I pressed my palms against the table, grounding myself. "Doing it online is one thing. When I have time to think about my replies, get things right. But in person—I've never—with someone I—"
The sentence refused to finish itself.
Konstantin was watching me with an expression I'd never seen on his face before. Something almost gentle, underneath the sharp edges.
"You love her," he said. Not a question.
"Yes."
Just the word. Just the truth.
Nikolai nodded slowly. His hands were clasped on the table in front of him—steady, certain, the hands of a man who'd learned to hold power without crushing the things he cared about.
