“Do you want to talk about it?” Mikhail asked as we made our way back to the ballroom.
“No,” I answered instantly, despite the fact that there was a secret part of me that actually wanted to.
I’d had sex.
I’d had sex with another woman, and it had been…amazing.
Soft, supple skin. Glossy, luscious lips. That one kiss, that first touch to her lips had broken me. I was powerless to fight against it any longer.
Against her.
It was like I’d been in a trance. The music, the feel of her body pressed so agonisingly perfect against mine…. Something had just come over—no, taken over—me, and I couldn’t wait a second longer to find out how she tasted. How it felt to finally kiss those lips that haunted my thoughts day and night.
And then, I’d done something I’d never done before.
I ran.
I fled the room like a little bitch, unable to come to terms with that I’d done.
Looking back, I could see why she chased me down. In the moment, I was ignorant of it, kissing her and then just dropping her like that in the middle of the dance floor, with a crowd of people watching. It was a dick fucking move, and I deserved everything she threw at me.
More, if I was being honest.
But that had kickstarted me all over again. Fighting with her just did something to me. Woke up that dark, primal beast within me that wanted to mark her. Fuck her. Own her.
So, that’s exactly what I did.
I let the beast out, and I fucking took her.
I thought it would make me feel better. Release me from that strange, magnetic hold she had over me. From the torment plaguing me every waking moment of my fucking life.
But it didn’t.
It made it worse.
Now, I knew how she tasted. Knew how her pussy felt wrapped around my cock. Knew what she sounded like when she moaned my name.
And I wanted it all again. Over and over and over.
The guilt for that was overwhelming.
“Are you sure?” Sympathy flashed in Mikhail’s eyes. “I can read you like a book, old friend. I can see the guilt consuming you. You have nothing to feel guilty about. Yekaterina has been gone for over ten years—”
“Mikhail, please. Don’t.” I didn’t need to hear it. Not then. I couldn’t talk about it. The guilt, hurt, yes, but seeing that look on Autumn’s face when I backed away from her? That hurt even more.
“Okay, fine,” Mikhail agreed reluctantly. “But only because you said, ’please’, and I’ve never heard you use that word before.”
That can’t be right. I was sure I’d used it at least once in my life.
Maybe.
“Let’s just get Anthony so we can get the fuck out of here.”
Mikhail saluted. “You the boss, man.”
When we stepped back into the ballroom, I scanned the area, but it wasn’t Anthony I was looking for, like it should have been.
It was Autumn.
My eyes moved from person to person with an almost frantic-like urgency, searching for her.
Where is she? She couldn’t have just left. Where is she—
“There.”
My gaze shot to where Mikhail indicated, and my heart plummeted when I realised he was talking about Anthony. He’d found Anthony.
“Luck is finally on our side,” Mikhail said, excitement streaking across his face. “It looks like he’s heading to the bathroom. We can nab him there—oh, fucking hell, Allistair is heading this way.”
Sure enough, when I looked to my left, I saw Allistair plowing through the crowd of people, making a beeline right towards us.
Towards me.
I did not have the energy to deal with him right now…but—
“I’ll distract him,” I sighed, straightening my spine. “You grab Anthony. Call me when you’ve got him, and I’ll use that as an excuse to leave.”
Mikhail nodded. “Gotcha.”
Allistair didn’t even spare Mikhail a glance as he walked off, his entire focus on me. “I have to say, Dimitri, you sure know how to get a party going. People haven’t stopped talking about your dance with the lovely Natalie. I truly hope you didn’t mean it when you said you wouldn’t be attending another one of my events any time soon. I need you back next year.”
I’d rather drink a bottle of hydrochloric acid.
“This was a one-time appearance. I have no intention of returning.”
His friendly smile turned strained. “What if I can make it worth your while? Say, $100,000?”
I gave him a deadpan stare. “Don’t insult me, Allistair. I have that much hiding in the cushions of my couch.”
Well, not really, but you get the point.
“What do you want, then?” he asked almost petulantly.
What I wanted, he couldn’t give me.
“Nothing you have.” I searched the crowd of people surrounding me, but there was still no sign of Autumn.
Has she left?
The thought filled me with panic and dread.
Allistair was still talking, spouting off a list of things he thought I might be interested in, but I was hardly listening, my gaze constantly sweeping the room, searching for red, fiery hair and mesmerising, emerald eyes.
Fucking Autumn had done nothing to quell my obsession with her. It was more insatiable than ever. More volatile. I felt like I was going crazy. Like I was going to absolutely lose it if I didn’t lay eyes on her—
There. Relief flooded me. High up on one of the many balconies overlooking the ballroom, she stood, peering over the railing. Our eyes connected. Something indescribable burst in my chest.
She was so fucking beautiful.
There was something about having my jacket over her shoulders that satiated the beast within me. I liked seeing her in my clothes. Liked seeing the indent of my teeth on her skin. I could stare at her for hours—
Who. The. Fuck. Is. That?
Standing behind her was a man, his face concealed by the dark shadows surrounding them. I couldn’t see him properly, but something about him seemed familiar, as if I had met him before. I just couldn’t put my finger on it. I needed to see his face.
He leant closer to whisper something to her. My eyes narrowed, hands squeezing into tight fists.
Those were my motherfucking marks on her neck. My jacket on her body. Why the fuck was another man standing so close to her?
Allistair hadn’t stopped talking, even though I’d said nothing back to him in minutes. My phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket and answered it without taking my eyes off Autumn.
“Da? Yes?”
“I’ve got him, but I need your help to carry him out. Fucker weighs a tonne,” Mikhail said.
“Where are you?”
“Look behind you.” I turned and saw Mikhail at the other end of the room, one hand holding the phone to his ear while the other waved through the air so I would notice him over the sea of people.
When I turned back around, the man with Autumn was gone.
“Dimitri?” Mikhail prompted, urgency in his voice. “Kind of on a time crunch here.”
“I’m coming.” Then I hung up. “I have to go,” I told Allistair, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
He spluttered, but I was already moving before he could muster a reply.
Turning my back on Autumn had to be one of the hardest things I’d ever done. But I had to do it. Things could not be allowed to progress between us, no matter how much I might want them to.
You love Yekaterina.
You love Yekaterina.
You love Yekaterina.
I chanted it over and over again in my head to stop myself from ignoring my mission. From hunting Autumn down and taking her again and again until I couldn’t stand.
But there was a part of me—this small, minuscule, barely recognizable part—that wasn’t entirely sure that was true anymore.
“Wake him up.”
Smirk on his lips, Mikhail threw the bucket of ice-cold water into Anthony’s face. The naked man startled awake, gasping in shock. Dazed, confused eyes glanced around the room before landing on me, sitting in front of him.
I smiled. “Hello, Anthony.”
“Wha-what’s going on?” he rasped. “Who are you? Where am I?” He tried to move, but he was securely strapped to the chair that was bolted to the floor. “Why the fuck am I tied up?!”
“So many questions.” I leant back in my chair with a sigh, placing my ankle over my knee. “I suppose, given the circumstances, I can understand. My name is Dimitri Volkov. The man behind me is Mikhail. You’re in a place I call The Pit. And the reason why you’re here is because you have information we need.”
It had been a bitch taking him out of Allistair’s estate without arousing suspicion last night. We’d actually been stopped several times, but Mikhail had come up with a wonderful excuse as to why we had Anthony’s arms flung over our shoulders as we dragged him to the door.
He’d drunk too much, passed out and we were helping him get home.
Absolutely genius. No one questioned us after that, and we were able to get him in my car with zero interference.
“Information?” Anthony shook his head in confusion. He did a proper look around at his surroundings, and paled at the sight of the blood-stained walls. His eyes shot to the tray of rusty torture instruments next to me, and panic flashed across his face. “No. No, no, no. You’ve got the wrong person! I don’t know anything! Please! Whatever this is about, I’m not involved. I just own a hair salon. You’ve got the wrong guy!”
He was actually pretty convincing. If it wasn’t for the fact that I’d seen him on the security footage with my own eyes, I might have actually believed him.
“Talon Scardo,” was all I said.
His body stiffened, then relaxed. “Never heard of him before.”
I sighed. They always say that. Reaching for the iPad I had sitting on the tray, I brought up the video from outside his hair salon—the one where he ran right into Talon’s arms—and showed it to him.
“Would you like to change your answer?”
Defiance flashed in the man’s eyes. He sat up a little straighter and raised his chin. “No.”
Admirable, considering there was literally brain matter on the floor right next to his bare feet.
“Okay, then.” I put the iPad down and held my hand out, palm facing upwards. “Mikhail, care to choose the first weapon of choice?”
“Oh, yes. I would love to.”
Something cold landed against my skin. I closed my fingers around it.
“A cheese grater?” I hummed. “Interesting choice.”
Mikhail’s lips curled into a sadistic smile. “I like the way it works on human flesh. It’s the easiest, most effective way to skin someone.”
Anthony’s resolve faltered for a mere second before his face set into stone. “You can do whatever sick, twisted things you want to me. I’ll never talk. I love Talon. I’ll never give him up. Never.”
I tilted my head to the side, studying him intently. A sliver of respect cut through me. “You know, I’ve tortured a lot of people in this room,” I said, returning the grater to the tray. I got to my feet and touched one of the walls fondly, the memories swarming me. “Nine times out of ten, they always cave. Usually before I’ve even made the first cut. The prospect of pain can be just as terrifying as the pain itself.”
Anthony swallowed thickly, but remained silent,
“I hate people like that. If you really loved someone, no amount of torture, either real or imaginary could get you to turn on them.”
“So, you’re just going to let me go, then?” he asked, full of hope.
“Oh, he’s got a sense of humor,” Mikhail quipped, shaking his head with a chuckle.
“Not quite.” I sat back down. “You’ve got my respect, which is a hard thing to achieve. So, I’m going to do you a favour. I’m going to give you a chance—”
“I already told you, I’m not—”
I whipped out my blade and held it to his mouth. He froze, eyes widening in fear. “It’s rude to interrupt people,” I whispered, dangerously low. I traced the tip of the knife over his skin in warning.
“My apologies-s,” he stuttered.
Twirling the blade, I returned it to the sheath on my waist and took my seat again, straightening the lapels of my suit jacket. “As I was saying,” I continued like nothing happened. “I’m going to give you a chance. A chance other prisoners are not usually afforded. I’m not usually in the business of torturing civilians. As far as I can tell, your only connection to our world is Talon, so I’m willing to cut you a break.” I turned my head to the side and barked, “Tate!”
The soldier I had posted at the door entered the room. “Yes, Boss?”
“Bring me the prisoners from rooms four and seven.”
He nodded and left. A few moments later, he returned with two prisoners in tow, both chained by the wrists and ankles. They shuffled forward with slow steps, their heads staying down. One of them was severely malnourished, so skinny that I could see the outlines of his ribs. The other wasn’t quite as bad, but that was only because he hadn’t been down there as long as the first. They both had long hair that went to their shoulders, big, bushy beards and dirt and filth covering their entire bodies.
“Like I said, I respect people who don’t just crumble at the first sign of fucking trouble. I respect strength.” I looked at Tate as I got to my feet and moved my chair out of the way. “String them up right here, Tate. Where Anthony can see them clearly.”
Tate did as I ordered without delay. Mikhail stepped around so he was behind Anthony, excitement practically vibrating from him.
There was a reason Mikhail was so feared within our circles. His torture techniques were terrifying, and that was coming from me.
I grabbed the man on the right by his long, filthy hair, and pulled his head back roughly. Faded, brown orbs locked onto me, pleading for mercy.
Fucking never.
“This here is Maxim,” I said, staring him dead in the eyes. “He used to be one of my most trusted advisors. A friend.” My hold on him tightened, and he whimpered. “That is, until I found out he drugged my daughter and raped her while she was passed out. Now… Well, he’s just a thing for me to play with when I’m mad, which, if I’m being honest, is quite frequently.”
Anthony ran his eyes over Maxim’s naked body, noting all the scars that covered his skin, both old and new. Particularly, the ones around the groin area. He turned so pale, I thought he might throw up.
I let Maxim go and moved to the man beside him. “This,” I went on, grabbing his hair and flinging his head back. “This is Erik. He was a soldier of mine. Smart, strong and incredibly loyal. Or so I thought. His daughter was the one responsible for letting enemies through our gates, resulting in our house getting raided. In me getting kidnapped.” Erik’s brown eyes stayed pointed to the ground, refusing to look up. “Funny thing is, that’s not what I’m most mad about. That raid resulted in my children almost being killed. That is something I absolutely can not let slide. He had the chance to stop his daughter. Instead, he did nothing. That makes him just as responsible.” I released him with a shove, and turned back to face Anthony.
“Now, here’s what’s going to happen.,” I said, picking up the cheese grater. “I’m going to torture these two in front of you, Anthony, and everything I do to them is what I’m going to do to you if you don’t tell me where Talon is.”
Anthony immediately slammed his eyes shut. With a snarl, I lurched forward and pried them open.
“You keep your fucking eyes open. You hear me? You close them, and I’ll fucking cut your eyelids off. Understand?” I threatened, my face hard and unforgiving.
Pure terror made him nod his head frantically.
I let him go and gave him a nice, pleasant smile like I hadn’t just threatened to permanently disfigure him. “Wonderful.” I turned around to face Maxim and Erik. “Let’s begin, then.”
A few hours later, I walked down the halls of the pit, wiping my blood-covered hands on a black hand towel. Anthony’s eyes had remained open the whole time Mikhail and I tortured Maxim and Erik, watching every punch, every slice we inflicted on them, no matter how much he didn’t want to.
He’d begged us to stop. Begged us to let him look away. Of course, I allowed neither.
It was crucial that he watched and saw everything that would happen to him if he chose not to give me the information I wanted.
Even I had to admit that it was a particularly brutal torture session. We’d started off with the basics. A punch here. A cut there. Then, we got a little bit more creative, using the cheese grater against their skin and holding a blowtorch just far enough away to sizzle the exposed flesh.
I won’t go into all the nitty, gritty details. Some of it might make you vomit, like it did Anthony.
After we were done, we left the unconscious bodies dangling in the room so Anthony would be constantly reminded of the fate he was in for if he didn’t talk.
“So, what happens now?” Mikhail asked, wiping a spot of blood from his brow.
“Now, we wait.” I stopped at the foot of the stairs that led back up to the warehouse, throwing the hand towel into a wicker basket. “We’ll give him a few days to agonise over what he’s seen. Maybe even a week. If he still chooses not to talk, then… Well, it will be his turn to go under the knife.”
Mikhail nodded. “Alright. Sounds like a plan. I’ve gotta go deal with some business, but you’ll call me before you take that next step, da?”
“Yes. Don’t worry, I know you don’t like to miss out on the fun.”
“It’s not only that.” His face suddenly turned serious. “If you get Talon’s location, I don’t want you to do something stupid like go after him by yourself with no backup.”
His fears were warranted. That was something I would probably do. “I swear I’ll call you.”
“Good. You better. Now, let’s get the fuck out of here. I’m craving a ham and cheese sandwich right now.” Only Mikhail would want to eat something after skinning someone.
We both headed up the stairs and back into the warehouse. Over 50,000 square feet of space, the warehouse was a place I’d created to sit on top of the pit, making it it’s only point of access and escape. It was filled with every type of gym equipment available on the market, and had a world class boxing ring smack dab in the middle of it, perfect for sparring.
Speaking of which…
My eldest and youngest son were currently in said ring, exchanging blows. Several of the men were watching from the sidelines while others were working out on the machines. Rock music blasted from the speakers high up on the walls, creating a light and playful atmosphere.
A complete contrast to what was going on below.
Mikhail said his goodbyes and headed for the exit. As I walked past the ring, Aleksandr flung Lukyan over his shoulder and body slammed him to the ground. Lukyan groaned, curling himself up into a ball as Aleksandr flowed to his feet. He saw me, walked to the edge of the ring and dangled his arms over the ropes, allowing them to support his weight.
“Father. Fancy a spar?” he asked.
“Please, say yes,” Lukyan begged, dragging himself along the floor with one hand while his other was curled around his torso. “Please. For the love of God. Say. Yes.”
I chuckled softly at my youngest son’s antics. Shrugging a shoulder, I said, “Why not?” and climbed the few steps up to the ring and jumped in.
“Thank fuck,” Lukyan choked.
“Oh, stop being such a baby,” Aleksandr commented, but Lukyan was already making his escape from the warehouse at a hurried, brisk pace despite the fact that he was limping.
“I hope he deserved that beating, and you weren’t just picking on your brother,” I said, arching an eyebrow as I unbuttoned my suit jacket and rolled it off my shoulders.
“Of course,” Aleksandr smirked. “I’m a fair and wise leader.”
My brows shot up in surprise. I took off my long-sleeved t-shirt next. Aleksandr wasn’t usually the type to joke around, but I had to admit that, since my return, I’d noticed there was something different about him. He seemed…lighter. Happier.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.
It started and ended with that five-foot nothing, dark-haired, tattooed cartel queen of his who was parked right in the front row, watching him with lustful eyes.
I threw my shirt and jacket out of the ring before rotating both of my arms and then putting my fists up.
Aleksandr winked at Drea, who in turn blew him a kiss before he finally gave me his full attention.
“Do you two need a minute alone first?” I asked as we began to circle each other.
A dark smile curled on his lips. “No need. This won’t take long.”
Oh, really?
The growing crowd around the ring “Ooooo-ed” at Aleksandr’s nicely worded insult.
“Fairly confident, are we, son?”
Aleksandr’s smile widened. He threw a light punch, no doubt to test my reflexes. I slapped it away. We kept circling. “I’m you, Father. Just a younger, faster, stronger, better version.”
“I see on top of getting yourself a wife in my absence, you’ve also acquired some cockiness.” I lashed out with a light kick, and he did what I did, slapping it away with ease. “Looks like I’ll have to bring you down a peg.”
It had been a while since we’d sparred together. He was right in some ways. I’d trained him to be better than me, but was he there yet?
Guess we’re about to find out.
He made the first move. I waited, watching for that slight shift in his stance that told me he was going to charge, and then I ran forward at the same time. We clashed into a strong grapple, fighting for the dominant position.
“How was London?” he asked casually, a slight grimace on his face as he tried to overpower me.
“Fine,” I grunted, pushing for the advantage. “Nothing of interest to report.”
“Really?” he hummed before gripping me tight.
I realised what he was going to do too late.
He reared back, placing a foot to my chest at the same time as he somersaulted backwards, hurling me over top of him and through the air. I smacked into the ropes and crashed to the ground. He rushed me quickly, striking out with a kick. I used my forearm to block, gritting my teeth through the pain.
“What do you mean, ’really?’” I shoved him back and got to my feet again.
He bounced on the tip of his toes, keeping his fists up, guarding his face. “Just that I heard a few things. That’s all.”
“What things?” I demanded.
“Things that involve a red-haired, green-eyed woman.” He arched a knowing eyebrow. I narrowed my eyes and charged him.
I faked left and went right, but Aleksandr was too smart, too quick to fall for that trick. He met me head-on, and we exchanged blow for blow, blocking and then attacking, blocking and then attacking. I threw a punch to his side. He twisted out of the way and returned with a knee strike. I blocked and lashed out with a high kick to his head. He deflected it and took hold of my leg. With a simple twist, he took us to the floor.
“What did you hear?” I growled as we wrestled along the ground, him trying to lock me in a leg lock and me trying desperately to keep out of his grasp. If he got me in any type of hold, it would be over, and not because I would tap. I’d let him break my leg before I let that happen.
“I think you should focus more on the fight, Father,” he mocked. He was seconds away from being able to lock the hold in place, and he knew it. “Talking seems to distract you.”
He was right. But I needed to know what he’d heard.
He couldn’t possibly know about the sex?
Could he?
He straightened my leg, moved into position… Shit, shit, shit. Panic set in, and I heaved with every bit of strength I possessed to try and throw him off balance.
It worked.
He faltered. I punched him in the chest, and then hooked my leg around in a fast roundhouse kick, my calf smacking him in the face. The blow stunned him, and I pressed for the advantage, shoving him to the ground. I wrapped my legs around his arm quickly and then reared back, locking him in a perfect, textbook armbar.
“Arghh! Fuck!” He tried to fight, tried to move to somehow hit me, but I was in the optimal position.
“Tap,” I snarled, pulling back that little bit more. “Tap, or I’ll break it, Aleksandr.”
“Fuck you,” he spat, still fighting.
So much like me.
Of course, I would never follow through with that threat. It was a friendly spar. Not a punishment. In fact, I was a heartbeat away from releasing the hold altogether when, out of nowhere, a blow to the face rocked me, my head snapping back as blood filled my mouth.
I let go instantly and rolled back. What the fuck—
I looked up to see Drea crouched protectively in front of Aleksandr, facing me with a dark, savage look blazing in her eyes.
I flashed my blood-stained teeth in an amused smile.
Alright, you’ve earned my respect. Let’s see how good you are.
I charged her, and she didn’t back away. She met me head-on. I swung a punch, but she ducked under it with plenty of time to spare. She jabbed me in the kidneys and then shot away real fucking quick, before I even got the chance to retaliate. Then she was back, delivering a punch to my ribs. I grunted and swung, but she ducked again, missing my strike altogether before springing back up behind me to kick me in the back. I flew forward, pain shooting up my spine.
Fucking hell, she’s fast.
I picked myself back up just in time to block her next attack, bringing an arm up to protect the side of my face. I palm-striked the centre of her chest, and she flew back, rolled into a handstand and then flipped back onto her feet in a second flat.
Impressive.
She didn’t fuck around. She came running back at me with absolutely no fear, no hesitation. It made me like her even more. She was perfect for my son. Smart, strong and protective as all hell. It was a relief to know she would always have his back, no matter what, against anyone.
Including me.
I worked hard to avoid her strikes, but she was quick as a cat—quicker even—and more of her blows landed then not. Fed up with the pain, I charged through her next round of attacks, gripped her by the throat and held her up in the air.
Even when I snarled in her face, her feet dangling several inches off the ground, she didn’t show an ounce of fear. I raised my free hand, closed into into a tight fist and—
A strong hand gripped mine, halting it in the air. Aleksandr was there at my side. He bared his teeth in a savage growl. I dropped Drea instantly to block him as he attacked me ferociously. A second later, Drea was back. She ducked and weaved between Aleksandr and I, lashing out with strikes in between his. They worked perfectly in tandem with each other, and I was powerless to stop them. There was no way I could beat them together.
Aleksandr front-kicked me, and Drea swung around my body like some sort of circus contortionist, ensuring I landed flat on my back. Then, she wrapped her legs around my arm at the same time Aleksandr locked me into a knee bar.
They both pulled back at the same time and pain shot through me, so crippling that I yelled out.
“Jesus, fuck!” I cursed loudly.
Aleksandr didn’t tell me to tap. He knew it would be pointless, but he honestly didn’t have to.
They’d won. Fair and square.
Well, as fair as a two vs one fight can be, anyway.
I used my free hand to tap the floor twice.
There was a brief pause, almost as if they couldn’t believe I’d actually done it.
“Hello,” I grunted. “I tapped. Means you let me the fuck go.”
“Oh, shit. Sorry,” Drea winced, unwinding her legs from around my arm. She got to her feet, standing over me at the same time Aleksandr did. Red stained her cheeks, and she reached down to try and help me up. “Oh my god, I am so sorry. I have no idea what came over me. I just—”
I raised a hand to stop her chatter. Keeping one hand to my back, I got to my feet and blew out a painful breath. “Nothing to apologise for. I like knowing you’d fight anyone to protect your husband. Even me. Especially me.”
“Oh.” She smiled. “Okay. Cool.”
When I turned to look at my son, he didn’t look as happy. His brows were lowered in an angry frown.
“What?” I shrugged innocently. “You won.”
He punched me in the face with absolutely no warning.
“Blyad! Fuck! Aleksandr—”
“That’s for hurting my wife, asshole.”
Okay, that was fair.
I rubbed my aching jaw, about to say what I was thinking out loud when Drea surprised both Aleksandr and I by slapping him across the arm.
“Hey!” she chastised, staring him down. “All is fair in a friendly spar.”
“But he—”
She cut him off with nothing but a scathing look. He grumbled out what sounded like a reluctant “fine” under his breath.
I chuckled, and then winced as pain flared through me. “Ow, fuck,” I blew out, holding my side. Now that the adrenaline from the fight was easing off, the pain was becoming a lot more noticeable. “Okay, I’m going to go sit down for a week—”
“Father, wait.” Aleksandr leant forward to whisper something in Drea’s ear. She smirked, bit her lip, nodded and then waved goodbye to me before darting off. Aleksandr turned to face me, standing tall. “About what we were talking about before—”
“When I was kicking your ass, you mean?” I joked, in hopes of derailing this conversation before it even started.
Shit luck there, though.
“About Autumn,” he said, ignoring what I’d said, but the slight clench to his jaw told me he didn’t like that little comment. “Word travels fast in our circles. You know that. I’ve managed to keep the others from finding out, but that won’t last forever. Dimitri Volkov kissing some woman on the dance floor of Allistair’s ball is pretty big news. Everyone is wondering who she is. What makes her so special to catch the attention of a man who has shown no interest in anyone else in over a decade.”
“Aleksandr—”
He raised a hand, palm facing outwards. “I’m not done.”
I arched an eyebrow, but made no objection as he continued.
“I know you’re still grieving Mother’s death, and I know that you’ll never allow yourself to be happy with another woman, but I’m telling you now that you should.” His eyes held mine, blazing with the need to get me to listen to his words clearly. “You’ve held onto her for ten years, Father. There comes a time where you need to let her go and move on. I’m here to tell you that’s okay. That we all support you. Not to ruin this chance you have at happiness because you can’t let go of the past. Mother wouldn’t want this for you. She wouldn’t want you to spend your days alone. She would want you to be happy.” He gripped my shoulder, squeezing it tightly. “We all do. Don’t do what I know you will try to do. Don’t push Autumn away.”
I frowned, but he was already walking away, leaving me to ponder his words and their meaning on my own.
