Chapter 165 Chapter 165
Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Five
Irina's POV
The months after Alexei's death were the hardest of my life. This was grief, pure and unrelenting, a weight that sat on my chest and made it hard to breathe.
I had not expected to love Alexei. When I learned the truth about that night, I had hated him. He had deceived me and violated me and taken something that was not his to take.
But then I watched him change. Slowly and painfully, he tried. He really tried. He learned to hold Nikolai gently. He learned to speak softly. He learned to ask for forgiveness.
And somewhere in those months, I fell. Not the way I loved Dimitri, with passion and fire. It was softer and quieter. I fell for the man he was becoming, for the father he wanted to be.
And then he died. Threw himself in front of a bullet meant for me. Gave his life without hesitation.
That haunted me. The way he had smiled through the blood. The way his last words were not for himself but for his son.
I cried every night for months. Silent tears that soaked my pillow. I tried to hide it from Dimitri but he knew. He always knew.
One night he came into the nursery and found me crying in the rocking chair.
"Irina," he said softly. "You cannot keep doing this alone."
"I am not alone," I said. "I have you."
"Then let me help," he said. "Let me carry some of this weight."
I looked up at him. "How can you help? You are grieving too."
"Yes," he admitted. "But we can grieve together. That is the point. We do not have to be alone in this."
He never demanded anything from me. Never asked me to stop grieving. He just stayed. A constant and steady presence. He took care of Nikolai when I could not get out of bed. He held me when the nightmares came.
And slowly, I began to heal. Not completely. The scar would always be there but the wound stopped bleeding.
I watched Dimitri with Nikolai and my heart ached with gratitude. He was so gentle with the boy, so patient. He taught him to walk and read him stories every night and made him giggle with delight.
He never once treated Nikolai as anything less than his own son. He loved him fiercely and completely.
One night I found them in the living room, Dimitri reading a story while Nikolai sat on his lap.
"What story is that?" I asked.
"The one about the brave knight," Dimitri said. "Nikolai's favorite."
Nikolai looked up at me with those green eyes. "Mama, knight saves the princess."
"That is right," I said, sitting beside them. "The knight saves the princess."
"Like Papa saved us?" Nikolai asked.
I glanced at Dimitri, surprised. "Yes," I said softly. "Like Papa saved us."
Dimitri put his arm around me and continued reading. For that moment, we were whole.
One year after Alexei's death, Dimitri drove us to the cemetery. I had been dreading this day, knowing it would bring everything back.
When we reached Alexei's grave, I stopped and stared at the black stone. His name. His dates. Twenty-eight years. That was all he got.
Dimitri knelt beside the grave and began to speak. I listened to his words and heard the pain and love in his voice and my tears started falling again.
When he finished, I knelt beside him. My knees sank into the cold snow and I reached out to touch the gravestone.
"I did not want to love you," I whispered. "I fought it but you made it impossible not to. You changed. You tried."
My voice broke. "And then you saved me. You gave your life for mine. That is not something I can ever forget."
Nikolai toddled over and placed his hand on the gravestone. He babbled something that might have been "Papa" and my heart shattered all over again.
"He will know you," I promised. "Dimitri and I will make sure of it. He will know that his father was a hero. That you died protecting us."
Dimitri put his arm around me and I leaned into him. "Thank you," I whispered to Dimitri. "For keeping your promise."
"He is mine," Dimitri said firmly. "Blood does not make a father. Love does. And I love him. I love you both."
His words wrapped around me. I turned to look at him and saw the truth in his eyes. "I love you too," I whispered. "Not the same way as before but maybe better. Stronger."
He nodded, understanding. What we had now was built on solid ground. It was love tempered by loss, made stronger by survival.
We stayed at the grave until Nikolai started to shiver. Then Dimitri picked him up and we walked back to the car.
In the car, Nikolai fell asleep almost immediately. I watched him sleep, his face peaceful.
"He is going to ask about him one day," I said quietly. "What will we tell him?"
"The truth," Dimitri replied. "That his father was complicated. That he made mistakes but he changed. That he died a hero. That he loved him more than anything."
I nodded. "And he will ask about us."
"And we will tell him that families come in many forms," Dimitri said. "That love is what makes a family, not biology. That he is wanted and loved and safe."
I reached over and took Dimitri's hand. He squeezed it gently.
When we got home, I put Nikolai to bed while Dimitri checked the security. After Nikolai was asleep, I found Dimitri in his study. He was looking at a photograph of him and Alexei as children.
"I found this yesterday," Dimitri said quietly. "I had forgotten this photo existed."
I looked at the two boys in the picture, so young and innocent. "He looks happy," I said.
"We were," Dimitri replied. "Before everything went wrong. We were just boys. Brothers. Best friends."
He set the photo down. "I am going to hang this in Nikolai's room. So he can see his father as a child."
I leaned down and kissed Dimitri's forehead. "That is perfect," I said.
That night, lying in bed, I thought about everything we had survived. The kidnapping and the torture and the war between brothers. The attack and the death. So much pain and so much loss.
But we had survived. Against all odds, we were still here. Still breathing. Still loving.
I thought about Alexei and wondered if he was at peace. If he could see his son growing up. If he knew that his sacrifice had not been in vain.
"Thank you, Alexei," I whispered into the darkness. "For saving us. For loving us."
In the distance, I heard Nikolai crying. Dimitri was already
up, already moving. I followed and found him lifting Nikolai from the crib, rocking him gently.
"Shh," Dimitri murmured. "I am here. You are safe."
Nikolai settled immediately, pressing his face
against Dimitri's chest. His father in every way that ma
ttered.
I stood in the doorway and watched them. And I knew that we would be okay. Not perfect and not whole but okay.
The Volkov legacy would continue. Broken, rebuilt, and somehow stronger for having survived the worst.
THE END.
THANK YOU DEAR READER.
BIG LOVE TO ALL IRINA'S, DIMITRI'S AND ALEXEI'S LOVERS.
BIG LOVE TO ALL THE CASTS LOVERS.
BIG LOVE TO THE BLOOD AND BETRAYAL READERS, YOUR SUPPORT MEAN ALOT💙💙💙💙💙