Alexei’s jaw sets in that stubborn way that reminds me so much of Luca, it makes my chest hurt. “We didn’t ask for them, but they’re here. We should be allowed to keep them.”
“That’s not how this works.”
“Then how does it work?” he challenges.
I don’t have an answer for that. Not one that makes sense to a four-year-old.
I stand up and start dismantling the train track. Alexei makes a sound of protest, but doesn’t try to stop me. I pack the train cars carefully into their box, then collapse the wooden bridges and tunnels.
“Mama, please,” Mila whispers. She’s still holding the tiny doll. “Please let me keep just one thing.”
My heart breaks looking at her tear-streaked face. But I can’t give in on this. If I let them keep these gifts, I’m letting Luca in.I’m letting him build a relationship with them that I can’t control or monitor.
“I’m sorry, baby. No.”
I take the doll from her hand gently. She starts sobbing. Full, body-shaking sobs that make me want to cry too.
I finish packing up the train set, then carefully lift the dollhouse. It’s heavier than I expected. I carry it to the door while both twins cry behind me.
“I hate you!” Mila shouts.
The words cut through me like glass.
“I know,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry.”
I carry the dollhouse down the hallway to my room. Come back for the train set. Make two more trips for all the accessories and pieces. By the time I’m done, both twins have locked themselves in Mila’s room. I can hear them crying through the door.
I stack everything in the corner of my bedroom and stare at it.
Beautiful, thoughtful gifts. Exactly what the twins would love. Exactly what would make them happy. From a man who kills people without hesitation.
I sit on the edge of my bed and put my head in my hands.
This is a losing battle. Luca has infinite resources. He can keep sending gifts. He can keep appearing in hallways and smiling at my children and slowly make himself less frightening to them. And I can’t stop him because this is his house and they’re living under his roof.
The twins are warming to him. I can see it happening. The fear is fading. The curiosity is growing.
And I witnessed what he’s capable of. I saw the violence firsthand. I know exactly what kind of monster he is. But my children don’t. They just see a man who gives them presents and asks about their favorite colors.
I’m losing control of the one thing I swore I’d protect. The one boundary I promised I’d maintain.
And I don’t know how to stop it.
10
LUCA
The playroom is empty.
Not just empty of children. Empty the dollhouse and train set I had delivered this morning. The floor where the track was set up shows faint marks from where the wood pressed into the carpet. The corner where the dollhouse stood is just blank space now.
I stand in the doorway and feel my jaw tighten.
Elena appears behind me. “Mr. Volkov, I can explain?—”
“Where are the toys?”
“Mrs. Volkov removed them about an hour ago. She carried them to her bedroom.”
