Page 49 of Deadly Devotion
We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging between us. I could feel the intensity of his gaze, the way his eyes seemed to pierce through my defenses, uncovering truths I wasn’t ready to face.
“Tell me about your family,” he said suddenly, his voice gentle yet commanding. “You told me both your parents died. How did that happen?”
I took a shaky breath, feeling the old wounds ache as I began to speak. “My father went to jail when I was three years old. He killed our next-door neighbor, who was having an affair with my mother. I guess he couldn’t handle the betrayal.” Taking a sip of the club soda, I paused, reflecting on my memories. “I don’t remember much about him, but I have a photo of him and my mother. I have his eyes.”
“How did he get killed?” Aleksandr inquired.
“I read in a newspaper article that he got killed in jail in a fight with another inmate. I collected newspaper articles about him when I got older. That’s the only reason I know anything about what happened.”
Aleksandr’s expression was unreadable, but I could see the intensity in his eyes, a flicker of something that looked almost like empathy. “And your mother?”
“She overdosed on drugs two years after my father was arrested,” I said, my voice breaking slightly. The memories werelike shards of glass, cutting deep with every word. “It was just too much for her to handle. The neighbor’s wife accused my mother of being the reason that she lost her husband, and her son lost his father. She was able to turn most of the people in town against my mother, which caused my mother to become an addict.”
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “How did you manage after that?”
“I went into foster care,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. The foster system had been a nightmare, a series of homes that felt more like prisons than sanctuaries. “Then I met Sandy in the last home I was placed in. She became my best friend and my family. We lived together in an apartment before she moved to New York.”
“And your past relationships?” His question was gentle, yet I could feel the weight behind it, the need to understand.
“I didn’t date much,” I admitted. “Not until I met Danny.”
Aleksandr’s eyes darkened slightly at the mention of Danny. “Why did you run away from him?”
I clammed up, the memories too raw to revisit. “He wasn’t a good guy,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.
He didn’t press for more information, sensing my reluctance. Instead, he just nodded. “You’re safe here,” he said softly. “No one will hurt you.”
I looked at him, seeing the promise in his eyes. For a moment, I allowed myself to be sucked into the fantasy of being in a relationship with Aleksandr and living here with him and our baby as a family instead of having an obligation to be hisheir’s mother. “Thank you,” I said, my voice filled with fleeting hope.
He nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Get some rest,” he said. “You and the baby need it.”
I stood up, feeling a strange mix of emotions swirling inside me. There was so much about Aleksandr that I didn’t understand, so many layers to the man who was now such a significant part of my life. As I returned to my room, the mansion’s grandeur seemed to close in on me, the walls heavy with secrets.
In my room, I lay down on the bed, my mind racing. There was so much to process, so many conflicting emotions. Could we really have a life together with our baby? Could there be a future for us?
I closed my eyes, trying to silence the doubts and fears. But even as sleep claimed me, Aleksandr’s image lingered in my mind, his eyes haunting me, his presence a constant, inescapable reality. I couldn’t shake the feeling that my life was about to change in ways I couldn’t yet comprehend, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it.
Chapter 31
Aleksandr
The morning light danced across the kitchen counter as the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. I stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with one hand while stirring a pot of scrambled eggs with the other. The rhythmic clinking of utensils and the gentle hiss of the stovetop were a soothing backdrop to the laughter of Sasha and Maxim, who sat at the island counter, eagerly awaiting their gourmet breakfast.
“Uncle, may I have extra strawberries on my pancakes?” Sasha asked, her green eyes sparkling with excitement. Her long blonde hair framed her cherubic face, and she bounced in her seat, unable to contain her enthusiasm.
“Of course,printsessa,“ I replied, ruffling her hair gently. Her smile widened, and I felt a familiar warmth in my chest. Maxim, her older brother, watched with an expectant look.
“And don’t forget the whipped cream for me!” he added, his voice brimming with anticipation. His dark hair and serious expression mirrored my own, a constant reminder of the legacy of the Avilov family.
I laughed, feeling a rare sense of peace and contentment. These moments, cooking breakfast for the kids, were the few times I felt normal, far removed from the darker parts of my life. I carefully arranged the pancakes on plates, adding generous helpings of strawberries and whipped cream, ensuring every detail was perfect.
As I placed the plates in front of Sasha and Maxim, Talia wandered into the kitchen, her hair tousled from sleep. She wore pink pajamas and fluffy pink slippers. Her presence immediately brightened the room. My heart tightened in my chest as I watched her sit at the table, her beauty understated yet captivating.
“Good morning,” she said, her voice soft and warm. “That smells amazing.”
I walked over with a plate of food and set it in front of her. “Sit and enjoy. You need to eat, doctor’s orders,” I said, placing my hand on her small but noticeable baby bump. Her eyes met mine, and a tender smile spread across her face, an unspoken bond between us solidifying in that moment.
We all ate together, the room filled with clinking forks and cheerful chatter. Sasha and Maxim regaled us with tales of their latest adventures, their faces animated with youthful exuberance. Talia and I exchanged amused glances over theirheads, our connection deepening with every shared look and quiet laugh. It was a perfect morning, one I wished could last forever.