Chapter 5 - The Father Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Alina read the sentence seven times.
Her father.
Alive.
Damon searched the property.
No one remained.
But evidence suggested someone had left within hours.
Alina sat on the staircase.
Sixteen years of grief rearranged itself inside her.
If Nikolai lived, why had he stayed away?
Why had he allowed her mother to believe she had been abandoned?
Why had he allowed Alina to grow up waiting beside windows?
Damon sat beside her.
For several minutes, they said nothing.
“I don’t know whether I want to see him,” Alina whispered.
“That’s allowed.”
She looked at him.
“You always have an answer.”
“No.”
“Most of the time.”
“I have decisions.”
“Same thing.”
“It isn’t.”
Damon looked ahead.
“Answers mean certainty. Decisions mean choosing even when you don’t have it.”
Alina studied him.
“Is that how you live?”
“Yes.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It is.”
She smiled faintly.
Then she noticed something.
“You’re bleeding.”
A small cut crossed his palm from moving debris.
“Nothing.”
“You say that about everything.”
Alina took his hand.
Damon became still.
She wrapped it with cloth from her bag.
Their faces were close.
Neither moved.
“You’re staring,” she whispered.
“So are you.”
“I’m treating your hand.”
“Very medically.”
“Stop.”
His mouth curved.
For the first time, Alina saw Damon smile.
Not the faint almost-smile.
A real one.
It transformed him.
She forgot to breathe.
Then his expression softened.
“Alina.”
Something changed.
They both felt it.
She released his hand.
“We should go.”
“Yes.”
Neither stood immediately.
Back at the mansion, Damon ordered increased security.
That night, Alina found him in the library.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked.
“No.”
He poured himself water.
She noticed the pills beside him.
“Pain again?”
“A little.”
“Does anyone know?”
“My doctor.”
“I meant anyone else.”
“No.”
“Why hide it?”
“Weakness becomes leverage.”
Alina looked at him.
“Maybe vulnerability isn’t weakness.”
“In my world, it is.”
“Maybe your world is wrong.”
Damon stared at her.
“You say things no one else says to me.”
“Maybe everyone else is terrified.”
“You’re terrified.”
“Occasionally.”
“And still you say them.”
Alina stepped closer.
“So?”
“So I don’t know what to do with you.”
Her heartbeat quickened.
“You don’t have to do anything.”
Their eyes held.
Damon raised one hand as if to touch her face.
He stopped before contact.
“Tell me to stop.”
Alina whispered, “I didn’t.”
His fingertips brushed her cheek.
Gentle.
Careful.
The same man who commanded armed guards touched her like she might disappear.
Alina closed the distance.
Their kiss was brief.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing rushed.
It felt dangerous because it felt real.
When they separated, Damon rested his forehead against hers.
“This is a bad idea.”
“Probably.”
“I’m your employer.”
“I quit, remember?”
“I rejected it.”
“You can’t.”
“I’m beginning to understand that.”
She smiled.
Then his phone rang.
Viktor.
Damon answered.
His expression changed immediately.
“What happened?”
A pause.
“Where?”
Another pause.
“We’re coming.”
He ended the call.
Alina’s stomach tightened.
“What?”
“A man appeared at the east gate.”
“Who?”
“He asked for you.”
Alina stopped breathing.
Five minutes later, she stood inside the security room.
Camera footage showed an older man beneath the gate lights.
Gray hair.
Weathered face.
Thin.
But familiar.
Alina’s knees weakened.
She knew those eyes.
Her own looked almost exactly like them.
“Papa.”
The word escaped before she could stop it.
Damon ordered the gate opened.
Nikolai Arsenov entered the mansion.
Alina met him in the main hall.
For sixteen years she had imagined this moment.
She had imagined running.
Crying.
Falling into his arms.
Instead she stood frozen.
Nikolai stopped ten feet away.
“My Lina.”
Alina’s eyes filled.
“Why?”
He understood the question.
“I thought staying away kept you alive.”
“You could have written.”
“I couldn’t.”
“You wrote letters and hid them.”
“I couldn’t send them.”
“My mother died thinking you left us.”
Pain crossed his face.
“I know.”
“You know?”
Alina’s voice cracked.
“You knew and still stayed away?”
Nikolai lowered his head.
“I’m sorry.”
“That isn’t enough.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“It never will be.”
Damon remained nearby but silent.
Finally Nikolai looked toward him.
“You look like Mikhail.”
Damon’s jaw tightened.
“You knew my father.”
“He saved my life.”
“Then tell me who killed him.”
Nikolai looked toward the guards.
“Not here.”
Damon dismissed everyone except Viktor, Sloan, and Alina.
Nikolai sat.
Then he told them.
Sergei arranged Mikhail’s murder.
But Sergei had help.
Someone close to Damon.
Someone still inside his organization.
Damon asked the obvious question.
“Who?”
Nikolai looked at Viktor.
Alina’s stomach dropped.
Viktor did not move.
May you like
Nikolai pointed.
“Him.”
