“He’s dead,” she sobbed, clutching her hands around the wounds in her stomach. “Alexei is dead.”

“How?”

“Men came in and attacked us. They hurt me.”

I didn’t need to ask how. I already knew. It wasn’t just the stab wounds she was talking about.

“There was one man who did it. Who killed Alexei and made me watch.”

“Who? Natasha, who?”

“Ivan Petrov,” she whispered. “It was Ivan Petrov.”

I stood up and called for the doctor I always used in emergencies. Natasha would be fine. They would save her.

But my little boy was dead. And the last thing he ever experienced from me was anger. I’d shouted at him. That was what I’d left him with.

I couldn’t stand to look at his body as I left the house. Ivan Petrov was my father’s enemy and now mine. The Petrovs and the Ivanovs have been at war for years, and Ivan had just announced war by killing my son.

I would have to wait to attack him. Ivan Petrov was a powerful, well-guarded man. I made a vow I would do to his son to what he did to me. His son, Damien Petrov, was ten. I would come for him and get my revenge.

But there was nothing I could do right then and there except sit in my car, not going anywhere, and sob until my lungs hurt.

Present Day

Watching Sofiya leave me in tears brings back all the memories I tried so hard to keep down. Natasha later died from suicide after the incident. She couldn’t handle losing our baby and the trauma she’d experienced at the hands of Ivan’s men.

I never did get my revenge. Ivan had died of a heart attack not soon after, and his son, Damien, was taken into hiding. I haven’t seen him since he was ten and I was twenty-five.

I’m not sure I ever will.

I had to learn to move on from my past. I was ready to start anew with Sofiya, but now, she’s asking questions. I don’t know how to be honest with her about it. I’m not a man who’s ever vulnerable. The last time was the day of Alexei’s death.

I shut my heart off after that day, but Sofiya has reawakened something inside me. I don’t want to be alone anymore.

With a sigh, I sit on the bench and bury my head in my hands.

Chapter

Fifteen

SOFIYA

Mikhail doesn’t join me during the night, and he’s not in our room when I wake up. His side of the bed is cold. I don’t understand why he can’t just tell me about his son. I understand what it’s like to lose someone you love. Both my parents are dead—they died at the same time. I know what loss and grief feels like.

All I want is for Mikhail to trust me enough to tell me, but for some reason, he doesn’t. Does he think I’m going to mock him? It dawns on me I’ve never told Mikhail that he can trust me. And I’ve given him every reason not to.

I’ve run from him. I’ve told him he intimidates me. I was terrified after he killed Irina. He knows I trust him, but he doesn’t know he can trust me.

After getting dressed, I head straight for Mikhail’s office and knock on the door. There’s no answer. I knock a few more times until Mary passes by, carrying an arm-full of sheets.

“Mr. Ivanov isn’t in right now,” Mary tells me.

I drop my arm awkwardly at my side. “Oh. I didn’t know.”

Mary huffs. “Of course he didn’t tell you. You don’t own him.”

Anger flares through my body, and I can’t take it anymore. “What the hell is your problem?”

“My problem?” Mary faces me head-on. “I don’t have a problem. It’s you who is the problem.”

“Why? What have I ever done to you? Other than not being Natasha, I don’t know what else I could have done to make you hate me so much.”

“You parade around this house like you own it when Mr. Ivanov built it. You’re just the little girl he married when there were other, more mature women he could have chosen.”

It hits me like a ton of bricks. “You’re jealous.”

She scoffs. “I am not jealous. Of you? No.” But it’s obvious from how she can’t fully look me in the eye that she’s lying to me.

“You are jealous. You like Mikhail.”

“No. He is my boss. I have no romantic feelings for him.”

“You’re closer in age to him than I am. I get why you’d be jealous.”

Mary pulls the sheets closer to her chest and sneers at me. “I am not jealous. Now, Mr. Ivanov is at work, and you’ll have to wait until he’s home to talk to him. Get away from his office.”

“I can do whatever I want, and I’m tired of people bossing me around. I may listen to Mikhail because I want to.” I stand toe-to-toe with her, looking her down. “But I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not my husband. If I want to stand by my husband’s office door all day, then I’m going to. Now, why don’t you go back into the kitchen where you belong.”

“You insolent little brat!”

I don’t see her hand coming right for my face until I feel it. My face stings from the slap. I gasp and step back.

“You are not the boss of this house,” Mary says. “Learn your place.” With that, she turns on her heels and walks away.

I slump against the office door, holding my burning cheek. The only thing I feel right now is loneliness. My sisters are here, but they can’t fill the void Mikhail has left in my heart. And now, he’s not even here to protect me from Mary.

I sit on the floor, determined not to move until I can speak to Mikhail again.

MIKHAIL

I’m in the middle of collecting money from Bogdan, a restaurant owner who pays me a monthly fee for my help keeping his restaurant afloat, when I get a call from home.

I assume it’s Sofiya, but it’s Mary’s voice I hear on the other line. “That wife of yours is a brat,” she mutters.

I step away from Bogdan, holding up my finger, and walk to a corner of the restaurant. “What is this about?”