Known associates: Close with mother (Elena) and younger twin sisters (Natasha & Lydia, age 12). Limited social circle. No serious relationships on record.
Note: Surveillance indicates subject has been seeing someone. Frequently leaves the Ashford estate in evenings, returns late (between 11 p.m. - 1 a.m.) No identification of companion. Meetings occur at various neutral locations, like restaurants, hotels. Subject takes care to avoid detection. Identity of romantic partner remains unknown.
Unknown.
They couldn’t figure out who she was seeing. My investigators—the best in the business—couldn’t identify him.
Because it was Alexei. My brother. Who knew every surveillance trick, every way to disappear, and every method to stay hidden. Of course they couldn’t track him. He’d learned from the best.
He’d learned fromme.
The thought makes me want to put my fist through something, like this entire fucking house.
Itaught him how to disappear and how to avoid tails.Itaught him how to move through the city without being tracked. These are skillsIgave him to keep him safe, and he used them to sneak around with an Ashford.
The irony would be funny if it didn’t make me want to vomit.
And Vera. She knew. From the intelligence file, it’s clear she knew what she was doing.Takes care to avoid detection. She was hiding it too. She was actively working to keep it secret.
When did she find out he was a Volkov? When did she make that realization and decide to keep sleeping with him? Did she always know? Did she purposefully get pregnant?
The rage rises again, hot and sharp. She knew. When I married her, when I stood in that courthouse and put a ring on her finger, when I took her to my home and?—
Oh God.
The realization hits me, and suddenly I’m leaning over, my stomach heaving. I barely make it to the trash can before I’m vomiting up whiskey and bile.
I slept with her.
I slept with my brother’sgirlfriend.
On our wedding night, when I took her to bed, when I touched her and tasted her and made her come apart under my hands—she was already pregnant with Alexei’s child.
And I fucked her anyway.
I retch again, even though there’s nothing left. My whole body shudders with disgust and self-loathing.
I defiled my brother’s girlfriend. Hispregnantgirlfriend. The mother of his child.
What kind of monster does that make me?
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and slump back in my chair. The room spins slightly but whether it’s from the alcohol or the revelation, I can’t tell. It’s probably both.
She tried to tell me that night. Didn’t she? When she stammered about not expecting to consummate the marriage, looking so scared I thought she was just afraid of me. But maybe she was afraid of this. Of the violation of sleeping with me while pregnant with Alexei’s baby.
And I dismissed her fear. Told her we were going to make it official whether she liked it or not. Took what I wanted because I could, because she was legally mine, because I was too focused on revenge to think about?—
To think about the fact that she might have a reason to be terrified beyond just general fear.
“Fuck,” I mutter, pouring another glass but spilling some of the liquid on my desk. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Alexei would hate me for this. If he were alive, if he knew what I'd done (like sleeping with his girl, making her miserable, trapping her in a marriage while she carried his child) he’d never forgive me.
Hell, I can’t forgive myself.
But he’s not alive. He’s dead. Buried. Gone. And all I have left is this mess he left behind. This impossible, fucked-up situation where his girlfriend is my wife and his baby is growing inside her and I don’t know what the fuck to do about any of it.
Thebaby.
