"There was nomebefore all of this," I say finally, lying back against the pillows and looking at her. "My father waspakhanbefore me. I grew up in this world. He killed a man in front of me when I was ten. He killed my mother for supposedly cheating on him, even though I have no idea if that was true or not."
Her eyes go wide. "Andrei?—"
"This hasalwaysbeen me," I say firmly, ignoring the apology I know she wants to make for something that isn't her fault. "I don't know anything else. No normal life, no peace, no existence that doesn't come with violence and always being on my guard. But my father didn't know how to delegate. He was fiercely possessive of everything in his organization, so he never gave me any responsibilities that others could see. Then he died, and?—"
"And now you'repakhan," she says quietly.
"And now I'mpakhan." I look at her. "I inherited this, but I didn't earn it. That's how most of my men see it. I've beenpakhanfor a year. Every little bit of weakness makes them more convinced that I don't deserve what I've been given, that any one of them could do it better. And you've been the most glaring evidence of that."
She chews on her lower lip. "It's their fault I ended up there, though. In your mansion."
"Sure. And they see it as weakness that I didn't just kill you immediately. Or that I didn't capture your father and torture a ransom out of him."
She looks at me sharply. "Why didn't you?"
"Would you have wanted me, if I had?"
She shakes her head slowly, and I shrug. "There you go."
"So what doyouwant?" Liesl looks at me. "Is this what you want?"
"I don't know anything else. I can't be anything else. But for the first time… yes." I reach up, trailing my fingers along her hair. "There is something I want. I want you. Not as a captive. Not as leverage. Not as a possession. Just... you."
Her eyes fill with tears. "Andrei?—"
"I don't know how to do that," I continue. "I don't know how to want something without consuming it. Without controlling it. Without making it mine in every possible way. That's not how I was taught to survive."
"You could try," she whispers. "Just… try to trust me, Andrei. If you could…"
I narrow my eyes at her. "You want something."
She takes a breath. "I want you to try one more time. With my father."
Every muscle in my body tenses. "No."
"Andrei—"
"He tried to kill me, Liesl. He set up an ambush. Men died because of him. Because of his refusal to negotiate, to pay, to do anything except escalate this war." I pull away from her and sit up. "I'm not giving him another chance to put a bullet in my head."
"Not a meeting like before, on his turf," she says quickly. "Bring him here. To the safe house. Just him, no guards, no weapons. Let me talk to him. Let me convince him to stop this."
I shake my head. "That's insane?—"
"Is it?" She sits up too, the blanket falling away. She doesn't seem to care anymore that she's naked. "He's my father. He loves me, even if he's terrible at showing it. If I can make him understand that I'm safe, that I'm choosing to be here, that continuing this war will only get me killed in the crossfire... maybe he'll listen."
"And if he doesn't?"
"Then at least we tried." She reaches for my hand. "Andrei, I know I see things in a brighter light than you do. I know I'm probably naive about how this world works. But I also know my father. And I know that the only way this ends is if someone breaks the cycle… if someone chooses peace instead of revenge."
I want to tell her it's impossible, that men like Alexander Baumann don't choose peace. They choose victory or death, and nothing in between. But I can see the hope in her eyes, the desperate belief that maybe, just maybe, there's a way out of this that doesn't end in more blood.
And I want to give her that. I want to be the kind of man who can choose hope over cynicism, trust over control.
Even if it kills me.
"If I do this," I say slowly, "and it goes wrong—if he tries anything, if this is another setup?—"
"It won't be," she interrupts. "I'll make sure of it. I'll talk to him first, set the terms, make it clear that any violence means I'm the one who gets hurt. He won't risk that."
