The letter arrives on a Tuesday morning while I’m eating breakfast in the sunroom, officially addressed to me in crisp hospital letterhead that makes my stomach clench with familiar dread. For three years, correspondence from Mercy General has meant nothing but bad news with another bill, another collections notice, or another reminder of the crushing debt my mother’s final months left behind.
I set down my orange juice and stare at the envelope, willing myself to open it and face whatever fresh financial nightmare awaits inside. The baby chooses that moment to kick, a sharp jab against my ribs that makes me wince and place a protective hand over my belly. “It’s okay, little one,” I whisper. “Mama’s just being a coward about opening mail.”
I tear open the envelope with shaking fingers and unfold the single sheet of paper inside. The words swim in front of me as I try to process what I’m reading.
Dear Ms. Clyde,
We are writing to inform you the outstanding balance on account #847291 has been paid in full. As of today’s date, you have no remaining financial obligations to Mercy General Hospital regarding the care provided to Elizabeth Clyde during her treatment period.
Please consider this letter official confirmation that all debts associated with this account have been satisfied.
I read the letter three times before the words finally penetrate the fog of disbelief clouding my thoughts. Paid in full. No remaining obligations. All debts satisfied.
“That’s impossible,” I say aloud, my voice echoing in the empty sunroom. I grab my phone and call the hospital’s billing department, convinced this has to be some kind of mistake. After being transferred twice and placed on hold for what feels like forever, a pleasant woman named Carol confirms what the letter states.
“Yes, Ms. Clyde, the balance was paid on Friday afternoon via a wire transfer for the full amount, including interest and fees. Your account shows a zero balance.”
“But who paid it? There has to be some record.”
“I’m sorry, but payment information is confidential. I can only confirm the debt has been satisfied.”
I hang up and stare at the letter again, my mind racing through possibilities. The total amount was over twelve thousand dollars. I don’t know anyone with that kind of money just lying around, and even if I did, I can’t imagine who would make such a gesture without telling me.
Unless…
The thought steals my breath and makes my heart race simultaneously. There’s only one person in my life now who has the resources to make a debt this size disappear without missing a single meal. It has to be…
Nikandr.
I push myself up from the table, clutching the letter in my trembling hand, and make my way through the house toward his office. Each step feels surreal, like I’m walking through a dream where impossible things become reality.
He did this without asking permission, without demanding gratitude, or without using it as leverage to manipulate me into compliance. He simply saw a burden I was carrying and removed it.
The magnitude of the gesture threatens to overwhelm me completely.
I knock on his office door and wait for his gruff invitation to enter before stepping inside. He’s seated behind his massive desk, surrounded by financial documents and legal papers that probably represent the dismantling of his empire. The ultrasound photo of our daughter sits prominently in the center of it all, a reminder of what he’s choosing over everything else.
When he looks up and sees my face, his expression immediately shifts to concern. “What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”
I hold up the letter, my hand still shaking slightly. “The hospital contacted me today.”
His body goes very still, and I watch his jaw tighten almost imperceptibly. “About what?”
“My mother’s debt. All twelve thousand dollars of it.” I move closer to his desk, studying his face for any sign of guilt or acknowledgment. “It’s been paid in full…by someone who apparently wishes to remain anonymous.”
He doesn’t deny it, deflect, or make excuses. He simply leans back in his chair and watches me with those gray eyes that seem to see straight through to my soul.
“You did this.” It’s not a question.
“Yes.”
The simple admission hits me harder than any elaborate explanation could have. He seems to have no expectation of gratitude. It’s just the quiet acceptance of responsibility for an act of profound kindness.
“Why?”
“Because you shouldn’t have to carry that weight anymore.” He sets aside the document he was reviewing and gives me his full attention. “Watching you stress about money when I have more than I could spend in ten lifetimes seemed wrong.”
I blink back tears. “You could have told me you were planning to do it.”
“Would you have let me?”
We both know the answer. I would have refused. My pride would have demanded I handle my own problems, even if handling them meant drowning slowly in debt I’d never be able to repay. “Probably not.” I sniffle.
“I didn’t want to give you the chance to say no to something that would make your life easier.”
Tears scald my eyes as I grasp what he’s done. This isn’t about money. It’s about seeing me clearly enough to understand what keeps me awake at night and caring enough to fix it without expecting anything in return. “Besides my mom, no one has ever…” I start, then stop, struggling to find words for something I’ve never experienced before.
He lifts a brow. “Has ever what?”
I sniffle hard, determined not to cry. “Taken care of me like this without wanting something back or making it about what they need or expect from me.”
The honesty in my voice seems to affect him more than I expected. He pushes back from his desk and stands, moving around to where I’m standing with careful, deliberate steps. “Come here.” His voice is gentler than I’ve ever heard it.
I move into his arms without hesitation, letting him pull me against his chest while I finally allow myself to really feel the relief of being free from that crushing financial burden. The tears I’ve been holding back spill over, and I don’t try to stop them this time. “Thank you,” I whisper against his shirt. “Thank you for caring enough to do something about this.”
He tightens his arms around me. “You never have to thank me for taking care of you. That’s what I’m here for.”
“Is it?”
“For the rest of our lives, if you’ll let me.”
The promise in his words makes my chest ache with a longing so intense it’s almost painful. I pull back to look at his face, seeing something there I’ve only glimpsed before—complete and utter devotion. He’s said he loves me, but I feel it intensely suddenly.
“I want this,” I say, my voice stronger now. “Not just peaceful co-parenting or keeping things civil for the baby’s sake. I want a real family. A real future. Something that’s ours.”
“So do I.” He cups my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears on my cheeks.
I cling to him. “Then sit down and let me hold you for a minute. I need to feel like this is real.”
He settles back into his desk chair and guides me onto his lap, arranging me carefully so my belly isn’t compressed. I wrap my arms around his neck and let myself sink into the solid warmth of his body, basking in the certainty this is going to last. “I used to think love was supposed to be hard,” I say quietly. “Complicated and dramatic and full of obstacles you had to overcome to prove it was real. Most times, those obstacles win in my experience.”
He gives me a gentle smile. “And now?”
“I think the best kind of love makes everything else easier.”
His spreads a hand wide over the curve where our daughter grows. “She’s going to be so loved. So protected. She’ll never know what it feels like to want for anything.” His expression grows more serious. “There’s something else we need to talk about that I should have told you before now.”
The change in his tone makes anxiety flutter in my stomach. “What is it?”
“The woman I mistook you for—Irina. She was connected to my brother’s death in ways I didn’t initially understand.”
I shift on his lap to face him more fully. “Connected how?”
“Yaraslov was in love with her and had been for months before he died. She was an escort, but to him, she was everything.” His jaw tightens with remembered pain. “What I didn’t know then was she was also feeding information to Vadim Morozov about Yaraslov’s movements, his security protocols, and his vulnerabilities.”
The name Vadim makes me shudder. “The man who’s been having me watched?”
“Yes, and the man who killed my brother, using intelligence Irina provided.” His hand stills on my belly. “Yaraslov walked into what he thought was a private meeting with her. Instead, it was a trap.”
“She set him up,” I say with quiet certainty.
“She lured him to an abandoned warehouse where Vadim was waiting. Yaraslov died believing the woman he loved had betrayed him, and she had.”
The pain in his voice cuts through me. I can’t imagine the agony of losing someone you love to such a brutal betrayal, or the rage that must have consumed him afterward. “You want to find her for revenge.”
“Da, and for the chance to look her in the eye and make her understand what her choices cost.” He meets my gaze steadily. “When I found you instead, everything changed.”
“Because you realized I wasn’t her?”
He shakes his head to my surprise. “Because I realized holding onto that much anger was killing me slowly. Some things matter more than revenge.”
“Like what?”
“Like you and our daughter, along with the possibility of building something beautiful instead of just destroying what’s ugly.”
I trace the sharp line of his jaw with my fingertips, marveling at how much this man has changed in such a short time. “But Vadim is still out there and still a threat?”
“Yes.” His admission is quiet but resolute. “I’ll have to deal with him before we can truly be free or I can guarantee our family’s safety.”
The words send a chill through me, even though I understand the necessity behind them. “What does dealing with him mean?”
He hesitates for a moment. “It means finishing what he started when he took my brother from me. It means making sure he can never threaten you or our daughter. He has to die so we can be free to really live. “
“And after that?”
“After that, we become a family that no one from my old world can ever find or touch.”
The promise should comfort me, but instead, it fills me with dread. “What if something goes wrong? What if you don’t come back?”
“I will come back.” The confidence in his voice leaves no room for doubt. “I have too much to live for now to take unnecessary risks.”
I put a hand to his cheek while staring at him. “Promise me.”
He presses into my hand. “I promise you I will do everything in my power to come home to you and our daughter. I won’t take any chances I don’t have to take.”
The urge to cry again hits me once more. “That’s not the same thing as promising you’ll be safe.”
“No, it’s not. But it’s the only promise I can make honestly.” Regret laces his tone, but it’s clear he won’t risk lying to me by making a promise he can’t keep.
I lean my forehead against his, trying to reconcile the man who just paid off my mother’s debt with the man who’s planning to kill his enemy. They’re the same person, and somehow, that makes perfect sense in a way I never would have understood before falling in love with him. He’s righting wrongs and restoring balance with both acts.
My stomach clenches with dread. “When?”
After a second, he frowns. “Soon. I’m still gathering intelligence and finalizing plans, but soon.”
“Will you tell me before you go?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Yes. No more secrets between us, remember?”
I nod and settle back against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat while I process everything he’s shared. The knowledge that Vadim is still out there and still a threat should terrify me. Instead, I try to focus on what comes after—the life we’ll build together once this final obstacle is removed.
“I love you.” The words come easier each time I say them. “All of you. Even the parts that scare me.”
His smile is brief but warm. “I love you too, more than I thought I was capable of loving anyone.”
“When this is over, when Vadim is gone and we’re free, what then?”
His smile lingers longer this time. “We find out what normal looks like to us. We raise our daughter, we grow old together, and we never take a single day of peace for granted.”
I sniffle, fighting back another surge of tears. “That sounds perfect.”
He pats my belly gently. “It will be. I’ll make sure of it.”
As I sit in his arms, surrounded by the evidence of his careful planning for our future, I have no trouble believing him. We’ve found something worth fighting for and worth everything.
