Lev snorts from the backseat. “That’s because she’s got a strategy for everything. She gets what she wants without even asking. She’s a mastermind. Right,Kolya?”
Nikolai doesn’t look up from his book, but a faint smile tugs at his lips. “She’s definitely smarter than you, Lev.”
Lev scowls, opening his mouth to retort, but I cut him off. “Enough. Alya’s not your competition. You two are supposed to protect her.”
“Yes, sir,” they mutter in unison, though Lev’s irritation is clear.
As their bickering dies down, my thoughts drift to Alya. My little girl. MyLittle Boss.
From the moment she learned to walk, she’s been running circles around everyone in the house. Confident, headstrong, and impossible to ignore. She’s the only person who can meet my gaze with the same authority I give the men I command. Alya doesn’t ask for attention; shedemandsit—and I can’t help but give in, even when I know I shouldn’t.
I don’t know how she does it. One moment, she’s bossing around the staff, barking orders like a pint-sized general, and the next, she’s climbing into my lap with one of her ridiculous stories about magical detectives or heroic queens. I see so much of myself in her—the determination, the fire—but it’s tempered by something I lost long ago.
She doesn’t just want control. She wants connection.
And I try to give her that, but… I don’t know if it’s enough.
Alya doesn’t ask about her mother—not directly—but I see the questions in her eyes. The way she clings to old stories, her fascination with clues and puzzles. She’s looking for something. Someone. And though she never says it, I know she’s trying to piece together the holes Irina left behind.
It makes me wonder if I’m failing her. If, no matter how much I give, it will never be enough to fill the void.
Timur shifts slightly in the driver’s seat, his sharp eyes scanning the road as the mansion comes into view. I follow hisgaze to the sprawling estate that rises ahead, a blend of elegance and control.
The mansion is a restored Mediterranean villa, perched high on the hills, overlooking the California coastline. When I bought it, it was a crumbling relic—a forgotten jewel that needed work, much like my life at the time. I’d purchased it after marrying Irina. Not out of sentiment or love, but out of necessity. She’d wanted something grand, and I needed space.
It took over a year to renovate, to bring the old bones back to life. The marble courtyard, the wide verandas framed with wrought-iron railings, the terracotta roof—it’s tasteful, timeless, and perfect for someone like me. It’s a fortress disguised as a home.
The irony isn’t lost on me. I’d built it to put distance between us. Irina was a beauty, no one could deny that—her ash-blonde hair, those icy gray eyes that could cut through you—but beauty can be a cold thing. She had charm when she needed it, but there was nothing warm beneath it. Everything about her was calculated, from the way she moved to the words she chose, each one carefully measured.
I don’t think we ever had a real conversation. Not one that mattered.
Even sex with her felt like a transaction. A duty she tolerated rather than something she wanted. It wasn’t passion or intimacy—it was a task, a box to check. Sometimes, it felt like I had to work harder convincing myself to finish than I did with her. The house became my escape.
Now, it’s something else entirely. A reminder of everything she wasn’t. I glance at the boys in the backseat—Lev leaning forward, already eager to leap out, and Nikolai quietly tucking away his book. They’ve given this place more life than Irina ever did. Alya, too.
Timur slows the SUV, guiding it smoothly around the circular driveway, where the fountain at its center sparkles in the sunlight. The sound of hooves clopping faintly from the stables nearby signals Alya’s presence.
“Clear Shadow Hill tomorrow,” I say, breaking the silence. “No staff, no security, no interruptions.”
Timur’s hands tighten on the wheel. His brow furrows slightly, but he keeps his gaze ahead. “You sure? It’s not exactly—”
“I need time,” I cut him off, my tone leaving no room for argument. “Time to think. Alone.”
He exhales through his nose, nodding once. “I’ll handle it.”
The SUV rolls to a stop. As I step out, the fresh scent of hay and leather from the stables drifts toward me, mingling with the salt from the ocean breeze. Alya’s laughter rings out in the distance, carried over the manicured lawns. For a fleeting moment, the tension in my chest eases.
Timur watches me, his expression unreadable, but I know what he’s thinking. “You’ll come back ready?”
“I’ll come back,” I say, though I question myself as I say it.
The truth is, I don’t know what I’ll find at Shadow Hill.Clarity? Peace?Or just more questions?For now, all that matters is the quiet.
5
Bella
“Lila, for the love of God, you are not going to an unsupervised party after school.” I shove the last piece of toast into my mouth and wash it down with coffee that’s already lukewarm. The mug has a chip in the rim, but it’s the one Dad used to use, so I can’t bring myself to replace it.
