He studies me with wide eyes, the way kids do when they’re trying to understand something grown-up and complicated. Then he leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek.
The pregnant woman remains quiet, watching us with a complicated expression that flickers between sympathy and sorrow. She rises to her feet after a few moments, one hand braced against her side as she moves slowly toward the door where the guards are still standing. When she disappears beyond the threshold, I turn back to cradling Leo in my arms.
He doesn’t let go either.
I stroke his hair, press kisses to the top of his head, whisper I love yous into the soft curve of his ear until I feel him begin to relax. The moment feels suspended in time, like if I stay perfectly still, I might just get to keep it and pretend that none of this horror exists outside this room.
But the illusion doesn’t last.
A throat clears from the doorway, yanking me out of my perfect little bubble of paradise. My spine stiffens before I even turn.
When I do, my blood runs cold.
Mikhail.
He stands in the doorway like he owns the world. Maybe, in his mind, he does.
The last time I saw him was in the haze of confusion after the wreck. He’d appeared like a ghoul out of hell, gliding into that cold, sterile room with a smile that chilled me tomy bones. He’d gloated then, reveling in his plan to rip me from Maksim’s life and use my son as leverage in a war I never wanted to be a part of.
The tailored suit he wears is navy today, pressed and pristine. His cufflinks flash under the light as he steps fully into the room. There’s no trace of the filth he buries himself in to gain power. He’s cleaned himself up for this appearance, made himself look civil, even elegant. But it’s a farce. A disguise.
Beneath that polished surface is a monster.
His smile is a blade, sharp and cold and meant to cut when it’s flashed at me. “What a touching reunion.”
The mockery in his voice is unmistakable. It drips from each word, acid-slick and cruel. He surveys the room like a king taking stock of his subjects, his expression carefully neutral except for that too-smooth curve of his mouth.
My arms tighten instinctively around Leo. He senses the shift in me, little hands clinging tighter to my shirt. His body goes rigid with the kind of tension children should never have to know. I tuck him in closer, placing my body between him and the man in the doorway without thinking.
The protective instinct is bone-deep.
Primal.
Mikhail watches the gesture with mild amusement, tilting his head to the side like he’s observing something quaint. “As you can see, I’ve thought about your proposition.”
I say nothing. I won’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
Mikhail continues casually, taking another step toward us. “I didn’t come here to fight with you. I came to see whether or not our little conversation was a fluke. I wanted to see you with him. See what you’re really willing to sacrifice.”
“Well?” I say tightly though clenched teeth. “Is this enough proof for you?”
He chuckles. “It is indeed. I’d like to take you up on your offer. Make an official deal with you.”
For a split second, I forget how to breathe.
He’s actually doing it.
He’s agreeing. He’s going to let us out of here.
Relief crashes over me so hard my vision swims, the tears threatening to rise behind my eyes once again.
“Though,” he adds, “there are some details we need to discuss first.”
The blood drains from my face.
The fragile hope I’d been hoarding like treasure tightens into something sharp and brittle, like glass on the verge of shattering.
Of course.
