Kat
“Yes, please let them in.”
My heart soars in an instant, warmth and hope flooding me.
Ana. She’s here. Vlad found her. Relief surges through me so powerfully it makes my knees buckle. I was so scared. I’ve missed her so much.
The dread creeps right back in when I realize what this means. It means she’s here, in the same home as her father, who knows nothing about her.
The ding of the private elevator entry announces their arrival. I glance in the direction of the stairs, my hands trembling. The relief that Ana’s here briefly overshadows the knowledge that a confrontation is looming. Pavel’s going to meet her, and the secret will be out.
I shake my head, trying to push that thought away. My daughter is safe. She’s here, and I need her in my arms. Everything else will have to sort itself out.
I hurry to the foyer, pushing aside the swirl of conflicting emotions. The elevator doors open, and Vlad steps in, holding Ana’s hand. Camille follows closely, looking relieved but worn.
“Mama!” Ana cries, letting go of Vlad and racing toward me.
I kneel, opening my arms wide, and she collides with me. The scent of her shampoo, the warmth of her small body—it’s everything. I hug her so tightly I’m worried I might hurt her, but she just giggles, pressing her face into my neck.
“I missed you, Mama!”
My eyes burn with tears. “I missed you too, baby,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her curls.
Vlad stands there, arms folded, a half-smile on his face. But I can see the tension in his jaw, the questions in his eyes.
Are you okay? Did you find out anything about Piotr’s plan?
I swallow, giving him a tight nod. He can tell I’m not fine, but at least he won’t press it in front of Ana and Camille.
Ana pulls back just enough to beam up at me, pushing a lock of her curls out of her eyes.
“We went to a hotel! It was so cool, Mama. There was a giant pool inside the building!” She stretches her arms wide as if to show me how enormous it was. “There was a slide, and it went round and round,” she starts making twirling gestures with her little hands, laughter bubbling out.
My chest feels tight, torn between happiness at seeing her and fury at Piotr for forcing this entire situation.
“A hotel, huh? That sounds like fun.”
Behind Ana, Camille stands politely, carrying a small overnight bag and wearing a serene smile. The picture of elegance as always. She gives me a quick nod of greeting.
“It truly was charmant. We turned it into a mini vacation, considering the circumstances.” A flicker in her eyes tells me she knows there’s more to this than meets the eye.
Ana bounces on her heels. “But I have to do lessons again tomorrow,” she complains, wrinkling her nose. “Why can’t we stay on vacation forever?”
Before I can answer, Vlad’s gaze flicks toward me, his expression shifting from concern to apology. That’s when I realize Camille may not have known I wasn’t aware of the hotel. She must’ve assumed I knew about the plan from the start, not realizing that it was all Piotr’s doing.
Frustration rises within, but it’s not Camille’s fault. I know she would never do anything to harm Ana.
“Thank you,” I say to her, standing up with Ana’s hand still clasped in mine, “for taking care of her. I really appreciate it.”
Camille dips her head. “A pleasure, as always. But perhaps next time I’ll be more…in the loop, as you Americans say.”
You don’t know the half of it.
Ana tugs on my hand. “I’m hungry. Can we have lunch?” It’s at that moment the grandeur of the penthouse hits her. “Wow…this place is so big!”
I rub her gently on the back. “Yes, it is. Of course we can have lunch, baby.”
I shoot a look at Vlad, who merely shrugs. There’s a heaviness in his eyes that suggests we’re about to encounter bigger problems.
“Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?” Ana asks.
“Sounds perfect.”
With that, we head to the kitchen.
Camille clears her throat gently as we walk, offering me a small smile. “She’s been asking for you nonstop. I’m glad we could bring her here.”
I force a shaky smile in return, running my fingers through Ana’s hair. “Me, too.”
“Where’s Uncle Piotr?” Ana asks.
My throat closes up. He’s the last person I want her around right now.
“Um, he’s busy.”
“Okay,” she says simply. She’s used to the Andreev men always being busy.
Camille steps closer, placing a hand on Ana’s shoulder. “We can come back if this is a bad time.”
Camille’s picking up on the fact that something is amiss. I’m doing a bad job keeping things close to the chest.
“No,” I respond immediately, shaking my head. “No, it’s fine.”
She frowns slightly, studying me. “You are sure?”
I nod firmly. “Yes. Please, stay.”
I glance at Vlad, who’s been uncharacteristically silent. He’s staring at me, worry etched into his features. We have a lot to discuss, but not in front of Ana.
“Just let me get her settled,” I say quietly to him, “then we’ll talk.”
He nods. “Sure.”
A million thoughts assault me at once. The biggest one being that Pavel is going to meet Ana—soon.
I set my daughter up at the kitchen island, rummaging for lunch supplies. Vlad hovers near the door, his arms folded. Camille leans against the counter, eyes flicking among me, Vlad, and Ana, obviously sensing the tension. Finally, Camille engages Ana in conversation, giving Vlad and I cover to talk.
“What’s going on?” he asks quietly, after coming over to where I’m standing.
I shake my head, not trusting that all of the emotions I’m feeling won’t spill over. “Later,” I whisper, hoping he’ll understand. “Where were they? How did you find them?”
“It wasn’t a hotel. They were at Piotr’s condo in Long Island City,” he says. “He’d lied, told Camille that they had to stay there for their own safety. Didn’t take much effort tracking them down.”
It’s no small relief. I’d imagined them kidnapped by strangers, locked away somewhere, scared out of their minds.
I begin to fix a quick sandwich for Ana while she chats with Camille about something funny. My heart clenches every time I hear her sweet voice and laughter, unable to bear what might’ve happened if Vlad hadn’t found her. The thought of Piotr using her like a bargaining chip makes me grip the knife a little too tight.
I finish making the sandwich, passing it to Ana and watching her take a big bite, jelly on her lip, chewing happily.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out, glancing at the screen. It’s a text from Pavel.
Wrapping up. I see we have company?
My pulse races. If I don’t tell him now, he’ll find out soon enough. He’ll walk in and see Ana, his own characteristics on her features, and put the pieces together. I stand beside Ana, brushing crumbs from her chin. Her big eyes gaze at me, trusting and adoring. My throat tightens.
For her sake, I want to trust Pavel. But trusting him means telling him about Ana in the midst of all this chaos, with the possibility that Piotr might have had a hand in killing our parents.
I meet Vlad’s gaze. He must see the conflict in my eyes because he takes a step forward, his voice low. “Tell him,” he says, “before he finds out in the worst way.”
“Stay with her,” I reply, tears pricking my eyes. “I’ll go find him.”
Vlad nods, placing a hand gently on my shoulder. Then he turns to Ana, distracting her with some silly story about her favorite cartoon character.
I take a deep breath, then walk out of the kitchen and up the stairs, straight toward Pavel’s office. Each step resonates with the finality of what I’m about to do. My thoughts are all over the place; Darya’s revelation about Piotr, the threat to my family, the knowledge that my husband is about to meet his daughter for the first time.
One crisis at a time, I tell myself.
Pavel finding out about Ana is going to change everything. A part of me wonders if it’ll be enough to shatter the fragile foundation we’ve built, if Kat Andreev—no, Kat Fetisova—can withstand another earthquake when she’s already been lying to her husband’s face for six years.
I don’t have the answer, but I have to do this for Ana, for us. I square my shoulders as I make my way to Pavel’s office, remembering the conversation I overheard just moments ago. That memory alone nearly stops me, the weight of all these secrets too overwhelming, too crushing. But I can’t turn back now. I must do this.
As I approach the door to Pavel’s office, it opens and Darya appears, her face pale, the sleeves of her sweater pulled down over her hands. She moves quickly past me without a word, her eyes briefly meeting mine as she hurries by.
Nikolai exits the office next, his long strides quickly catching up to Darya. He nods as he goes by.
I walk into Pavel’s office cautiously, unsure of what just happened.
“She said she doesn’t want to stay here,” Pavel says, a hint of irritation in his tone. “I offered to book her a hotel outside of town. She told me she has a life, that she doesn’t want to be in any part of our world. I told her I’d give her a short period of time to think about it before she makes her final decision. Nikolai is taking her home and will keep a close eye on her in the meantime.”
I’m dumbfounded. Part of me wants to go talk to her myself, remind her how dangerous this is, but another part can’t find the words. My entire world is spinning too fast right now. “So, we’re just going to let her leave?” I ask, exasperation in my voice.
“What else can we do? I’m not going to kidnap her. I can’t force her to stay here. I made it clear that if she doesn’t, the promise of protection is off the table. It’s her choice; she has all the information she needs to make the right one.”
Before I have a chance to say anything else, he changes the subject. “We have guests. I saw them on the security feed. Who is the woman and the girl accompanying Vlad?”
Shit. No getting out of it now.
“The woman’s name is Camille, and…actually, let’s go to the kitchen to talk.”
A flicker of irritation appears on his face. Pavel isn’t the sort of man whom you keep information from. But then his expression softens, as if he can sense there’s something serious at play.
“Okay,” he concedes. “Let’s go to the kitchen.”
We descend the stairs in silence. When we enter the kitchen, Pavel’s gaze lands on Vlad first, then Camille, and finally Ana. She tilts her head, blinking up at him. He takes a step closer, his expression softening into something tender and warm. He looks at her like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.
His lips turn upward into the brightest smile as he asks, “And who is this lovely young lady?”
