Pavel
Icrouch down in front of the little girl, so we’re eye to eye.
She’s maybe five, with dark curls, bright eyes, and a timid smile that doesn’t quite hide the curiosity dancing beyond it. Kat stands protectively behind her, clearly on edge.
“Pavel, this is Ana,” Kat says, a slight tremble to her voice. She looks at the child, then back at me. “Ana, say hello to Mr. Fetisov.”
Ana stands up tall before offering a practiced polite bow, her curls bouncing. “Hello, Mr. Fetisov.” Her tone is soft but confident. She’s obviously been taught good manners.
“Nice to meet you, Ana.” I hold out my hand, and she gives it a careful shake with a stern, grown-up expression that almost makes me laugh. Then she giggles, disarming me in an instant.
I stand up, my eyes landing on Vlad. He stands a few feet away, arms crossed, carefully watching the girl. Behind him is a tall, poised woman who I can only assume is Camille, the person Kat mentioned before we left my office to come to the kitchen.
Kat’s body language is tense, guarded—shoulders tight, chin raised, eyes scanning the room. Even Ana, who was cheerful just a moment ago, seems to pick up on the tension.
“I am Camille,” the woman says with a French accent. She walks toward me and offers her hand. I take it. As we shake, her eyes look me over. She’s not checking me out—she’s assessing me.
What the hell is going on? No one is offering an explanation. It’s as if they’re waiting for me to piece it together on my own. I feel a strange sensation in my core. A newfound sense of overwhelming purpose. I clear my throat. “Welcome to my home,” I say. My voice is low, more subdued than usual. “I’m pleased you could come.”
Vlad gives me a polite nod. “Thank you, Pavel. We appreciate it.”
Camille smiles politely. “Ana’s been asking to see Kat for ages.”
Kat exhales sharply, a look of concern and mild shock taking over her expression.
“Desolee if we are intruding,” Camille says politely.
“Not at all. Come, let’s get everyone a little something to eat.”
Ana looks up at Kat again. “Mama, I am still hungry.”
Mama?
That single word crashes into my thoughts like a bulldozer. Kat is her mother. My mind reels. How? When? Why didn’t she tell me she had a child? I can’t stop the barrage of questions hammering around inside my skull.
Kat lowers herself to Ana’s level, smoothing a stray curl away from the little girl’s face.
“Okay, sweetheart. But first, I need to speak to Mr. Fetisov.” She gives me a look that begs me not to push. Then she kisses Ana’s cheek. “Go with Uncle Vlad and Camille, okay?”
Ana nods, “All right.” Then she looks at me again, uncertain. “Nice to meet you.”
Camille reaches for Ana’s hand, and they head toward the living room. Vlad follows. Kat watches them go before turning back to me, her expression shadowed with anxiety. Her stare pins me in place, silently pleading: Don’t ask, not yet. I clench my jaw, keeping my questions to myself—for now.
I lead her down a corridor off the kitchen to the downstairs study. We step inside, and I close the door, leaning against it, my arms folded. My mind is a storm of questions, but I wait for her to speak first.
“Thank you,” she says quietly.
“For what?”
A tremor passes through her. “For not demanding an explanation in front of everyone, in front of Ana.”
I watch her carefully. She’s trembling slightly, but anger still lingers in my chest, preventing me from going to her. “Kat, who is that little girl?”
I don’t really need to ask, I already know.
She chews her lip, looking away briefly before meeting my eyes. “Her name is Ana, and she’s our daughter.”
The words are deafening, though I hear them clearly.
“She’s our daughter?”
Kat’s eyes brim with tears. She nods once. “Yes, she’s five. I found out I was pregnant right after my parents died. Piotr sent me away to live with an aunt to keep the baby and me safe.”
I see red for a moment, furious at having missed the first five years of my child’s life. I clench my fists. “How could you keep this from me?” My words come out sharper than I intend, but I can’t help it. The anger is raw, undercut by heartbreak. “Especially after being in my home all this time?”
She flinches, tears threatening to fall. “I’m sorry. At first, I truly thought I was protecting her from you and your family. Piotr had me convinced that you were a danger to us. But now, I don’t know what to believe. I just know that I can’t live without seeing her every day.”
I grit my teeth to hold back a string of curses. Anger, confusion, and a fierce protectiveness surge within me all at once.
“You raised her alone?”
Kat’s lower lip trembles. “She’s amazing—bright, curious. Vlad and Camille helped. They still do. But I had to be cautious, especially once Piotr started making moves.”
A flash of rage and betrayal crosses her face.
I push off the chair, pacing the small space. “Why bring her here now?”
Her eyes turn dark. “Because Piotr took her. He threatened me with her safety unless I…” She exhales before speaking again. “He said I had to kill you, or I’d never see her again.”
My blood turns cold, every protective instinct on overdrive. “He used our daughter against you?”
Kat grabs my arm, her eyes wide. “We have to be smart. Piotr crossed a line. If we move impulsively, we risk everything.”
She’s right. I can’t barrel into a confrontation without a plan. “He’ll pay,” I say firmly. “I won’t let him get away with this.”
She sighs. “I know.”
My thoughts are still spinning as the realization of Ana settles deeper. “My child.”
Kat lowers her gaze. “I’m not sorry I protected her, but I am sorry I didn’t tell you once I began to suspect Piotr.”
“What’s done is done. She’s here now.” A rough laugh slips out, half disbelief, half joy. “I’m furious, but I’m also happy. I have a daughter.”
Kat’s tears finally spill. “Thank you,” she whispers, stepping into my arms. I hold her, letting our moment of closeness smooth over my frayed nerves. When we break apart, I feel calmer.
“What now? I won’t let Piotr near her.”
She stiffens. “We must ensure her safety, then we’ll handle everything else—Piotr, the truth about my parents, whatever Darya told you.”
“Agreed. She’s waiting for us.”
Kat musters a weak smile. “Yes. Let’s go.”
I lace my fingers through hers, leading her out of the study. My mind still spins with the enormity of what we just discussed, but I push it all back. I have a daughter. She’s here, in my home. Protecting her comes before everything else.
As we approach the kitchen, we find Ana perched on a stool at the island, kicking her legs and chatting with Camille, who’s smiling at something the girl said. Vlad stands guard in his typical stance, arms folded, an odd mix of tension and relief in his eyes.
Camille and Ana turn as we approach, curiosity on their faces. I let go of Kat’s hand and step toward Ana. She gives me a shy smile that fills my chest with unexpected warmth.
“You still hungry?” I ask.
She nods; her eyes bright. “Yes!”
A grin twitches at my lips. “Then let’s whip you up a snack.”
Kat slips in beside me, her presence steady despite her anxiety. We may face threats, we may have to confront Piotr, and we definitely have a million questions to untangle. But at this moment, I soak in the sweet excitement on Ana’s face, letting it anchor me.
