The second email arrives ten minutes later.
Financial activity detected in offshore account #4782. Pattern matches Alexei Volkov’s typical spending habits. Activity dates: ongoing for the last nine weeks. Locations include Prague, Vienna, Berlin.
Alexei has been spending money. For the last nine weeks.
Which means Alexei has been alive for the lastnineweeks.
The third email comes through just as I’m processing the second.
Phone records for Konstantin Volkov attached. Notable findings: 247 calls to burner phone (number ending in 8834) over the past three months. Duration of calls ranges from 2-45 minutes. Recommend trace on burner number.
Konstantin has been calling someone a lot. On a burner phone that can’t be easily traced.
“Trace it anyway,” I mutter, already typing out the response.
The tech team works fast and within twenty minutes, I have partial location data on the burner phone, including the places it pinged cell towers over the last almost three months.
I pull up security footage from various locations in the city and cross-reference dates and times.
And there he is.
Alexei. Walking through Prague’s Old Town Square. Caught on a street camera in Vienna. Leaving a café in Berlin.
Alive.
My brother isalive.
This should feel like a miracle, like a weight lifting off my chest after nearly three months of grief.
Instead, it feels like betrayal.
Because if Alexei is alive, then everything that’s happened has been orchestrated. Manipulated.
And Konstantinknew.
I pull up the phone records again and look at the pattern of calls. They intensify around key dates. Right before the peace meeting where we were ambushed. Right before the car bombing. Right after I married Vera.
And then I remember Konstantin’s recent visits. His comments about the baby. His satisfaction at seeing me grow attached to Vera.
“If you’ve developed genuine feelings for Vera, it only strengthens the alliance.”
“Focus on the living, nephew. Focus on Vera and the baby.”
“She’s the future of this family now.”
The pieces slot into place with horrifying clarity.
Konstantin wants power. Control. He’s always wanted it, but as Alexei’s uncle andmyuncle, he could never take it directly. The family would never accept him over Alexei or me.
But what if he could control the next generation? What if he could position himself as the power behind the throne?
A baby. Vera’s baby. Alexei’s child, born into a marriage alliance that unites the Volkov and Ashford families.
With me married to Vera, raising Alexei’s child, and bound to her through legal and emotional ties. And Konstantin positioned as the trusted advisor. The regent. The one who really pulls the strings.
And if I became inconvenient? If I started asking too many questions or pushing back against his influence?
Well, accidents happen. Bombings. Ambushes. Tragic losses.
