Between Returning Home and an Irreversible Decision

Between Returning Home and an Irreversible Decision


Dominic’s Point of View

I was still in the hotel room, unable to sleep. Exhaustion weighed heavily on me, pulling my body down, but even so, I couldn’t just close my eyes and drift off. If I’m honest… I was afraid. Afraid to close my eyes… and, when I woke up, that Maggie and Jamie wouldn’t be here anymore, that all of this would vanish like a cruel dream. Because, despite all the anger, the frustration, the pain burning inside me with this new reality… it was still better. Everything was better knowing they were alive, that they existed, that I could touch them and see them.

I stepped out of the bathroom after a long shower, trying unsuccessfully to cool my head; the towel was wrapped around my hips, and water was still running down my body, sliding over my skin and dripping onto the floor as I walked through the room. The silence was almost absolute, broken only by the low hum of the air conditioner… until my cell phone vibrated on the table. I looked in its direction and saw Irina’s name glowing on the screen.

I let out a short, humorless snort.

Great, that was exactly what I needed. Talking to the woman who gave me life… and made a point of taking everything from me to achieve her own goals.

I picked up the phone and answered, holding it to my ear.

“When do your business matters in Turkey wrap up? You need to come back to Russia.”

Not even a “hello,” not even a pause. Direct and cold as always. No one but Nicolai knew where I really was. Even before I knew the truth, I was already certain that many people didn’t want me in this city—my mother being one of them—which is why she thought I was in Turkey closing deals for the bratva with the Turks.

“Did something happen?” I asked, my voice neutral and controlled.

On the other end, I heard a faint sound of movement before she answered.

“I got a call earlier today,” she said. “Remember how you wanted to use the foundation to attract the Japanese to the Bratva’s business?” Of course I remembered. “It happened, Dominic,” she continued. “They want a meeting with you.”

I gripped the phone tighter between my fingers. After the Night of Ashes, the Bratva was still standing… but it wasn’t the same anymore; our foundation was fragile and vulnerable. Ever since I overthrew Vladimir and the old guard, I’d spent months rebuilding everything, forging new alliances, and strengthening what remained. And the Japanese… they were the most important—and the most difficult—piece of the puzzle. Almost impossible to reach. Until I discovered that the family running those businesses had a strong inclination toward philanthropy. That’s when the idea of the Volkov Foundation came up—to help the Bratva a little. Irina and I invested everything in it. Time, money, influence… everything to get their attention. All for a chance, and now… now it had finally worked out, at the worst possible time.

I ran my hand over my wet face, letting out a heavy sigh.

Damn… how was I just going to walk away? How was I going to leave Jamie behind… after months of thinking he was dead? I closed my eyes tightly, pressing my eyelids as if that could organize my thoughts. I knew I couldn’t stay in the United States for long—it was never a real option—but I thought… I thought I’d have more time. A few days, maybe weeks. Enough time to figure out what to do, to decide how we’d move forward with our lives now, but no, it was never simple and it was never easy.

Always the same damn dilemma.

Jamie and Maggie… or the Bratva.

“They’ll be in Russia in two days,” Irina continued, her voice firm, pressing. “Can you come back? You have to come back, Dominic.” I fell silent, my jaw clenched. “It doesn’t matter what business you have with the Turks,” she added. “This is much bigger. We’ve been working on this for too long, with too much effort, to let this opportunity slip away.”

I knew, I knew she was right. I knew that this opportunity could define the future of the Bratva, but at that moment… all I felt was irritation. A deep, bitter irritation at her greed, at her coldness. My mind went straight to Alina’s words, her saying that Maggie had made a deal with my mother to get out of my life and to take Jamie with her.

I gripped the phone even tighter in my hand, feeling the tension rise through my body.

I didn’t just feel frustration toward my mother.

I felt hatred.

Even with all the differences I’d always had with my mother… with all the conflicts that had run through my life from an early age… I had never thought I hated her.

Never.

But in that moment, as I listened to her voice on the other end of the line… that was exactly what I felt. I hated Irina, I hated what she did, I hated the way she always put the power of the Bratva above everything else… above everyone else… even above the happiness of her own children.

“Dominic…”

“I’m listening,” I replied coldly, cutting short any attempt at gentleness.

“Don’t worry,” I continued, my voice low and overly controlled. “I know my duties, and I’ll fulfill them.”

The line went silent for a moment, then the tone shifted.

“Son, are you okay? Did something happen?” Her voice sounded softer now. To anyone on the outside, it might have seemed like concern, but I knew better—it wasn’t about me.

It was about control, about making sure I was still exactly where she wanted me to be.

“Nothing happened, Irina,” I replied. “Don’t worry… I’m still the machine that works for the Bratva you love so much.” I tasted the bitterness of the words in my mouth as I continued. “I’ll be in Russia as soon as possible.”

I spat out every word and hung up before she could respond.

I stood there for a moment, the phone still in my hand, the silence of the room filling everything around me once more. I let out a heavy sigh and tilted my head back, closing my eyes for an instant. My temples were throbbing; everything was too heavy, too confusing.

But one thing was clear: I couldn’t put it off any longer. I needed to talk to Maggie; I needed to lay everything out on the table.

To understand and decide. To figure out how we would move forward from there… together or apart. The truth was that, at that moment… all I wanted was simple.

That my children were well and safe; nothing else mattered anymore. There was a time when I believed that Maggie and I needed to be together for everything to work out, that it was enough for our love to remain intact… preserved… that Jamie would grow up well, and that I would only be at peace if I had both of them with me, but now… after everything… after what she did, no matter what her reasons were… maybe that logic was wrong and selfish. Maybe it was just something that satisfied me, something I wanted… not necessarily what was best. Maybe it was time to accept that Maggie and Jamie could live better without me.

The thought hit me hard and hurt more than anything else, but the sound of the phone ringing in the bedroom cut through it all.

I opened my eyes immediately, my body reacting before my mind, looked at the phone next to the bed, frowning, and walked over to it, picking up the receiver.

“Volkov.”

“Mr. Volkov,” the voice on the other end said, formally. “A woman is down here; her name is Maggie Sullivan.”

I froze for a second… I couldn’t react, but then everything came back just as quickly as it had gone blank.

“You can let her come up,” was all I said before hanging up.

I stood still for a moment, blinking, letting out a low sigh, and ran my hand over my face, then looked down at myself—the towel was still tied around my hips, and I was practically naked.

Shit! I hadn’t even gotten dressed.

I turned, ready to head to the closet… but the sound of the private elevator cut through the silence. My whole body went on high alert as I turned my gaze toward it, watching the doors open and Maggie step out. Her hands were clasped in front of her, her fingers twisting nervously, and her gaze rose… meeting mine… and she froze.

The elevator doors closed behind her with a soft click.

“Sorry… for coming without warning,” she said, looking away. “I thought that if I called, you wouldn’t answer… or, if you did, you wouldn’t want me to come…”

I studied every detail of her for a second before answering.

“Didn’t you think I might refuse to let you come up?” I asked.

She looked up at me again.

“I had to take a chance,” she replied, letting out a sigh as her shoulders slumped slightly. “We need to talk,” she said.

I nodded.

“I know.” I ran my hand through my still-damp hair, looking away for a moment. “I would have come to you if you hadn’t come,” I continued. “After all, I don’t have much time. I need to get back to Russia in less than two days.” The words hung in the air, and I started walking. “I’m going to get dressed. Make yourself at home.”

“Are you going back to Russia like that?” Her voice came out a little louder this time.

I turned automatically, and she was already moving toward me. We met in the middle of the huge room.

“Just as your life seems to be in this country… mine is in Russia.” My voice came out hard, with no room for softness, as I held her gaze.

Maggie was close, very close. Just a step away. Close enough that I could see every detail of her face, the slight tremor in her breath, the restrained sparkle in her eyes. We stared at each other in silence for a second that seemed to drag on.

“And Jamie?” Her voice was lower this time, but heavy with emotion.

Her eyes sparkled.

I let out a snort, looking away for a moment before turning back to her.

“Are you worried now about how I can be present in our son’s life?” The words came out sharper than I’d intended.

Maggie looked away, biting her lower lip, as if she were holding something back.

“It’s fair,” she murmured, almost to herself.

I nodded slightly, running my hand through the back of my neck.

“Don’t worry, Maggie,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I intend to be as present as any father who doesn’t live with his children but still wants to be present can be.” Every word felt heavy on my tongue. “No matter how many times I have to fly to this country each month… or each year.” My gaze drifted down, almost involuntarily, and settled on her belly.

Covered by a loose floral dress that gently outlined its rounder shape. My chest tightened.

She was beautiful, painfully beautiful. My gaze drifted back up to her face.

“I’m going to be a good father to my children,” I continued, more quietly now, but firmly. “And I intend to be a part of their whole lives. No matter how much distance there is between us.”

Maggie stared at me; there was something in her gaze, something that looked like… pain, but I couldn’t understand it—it didn’t make sense. She had made a choice; she had decided for both of us, and with that decision, our children would grow up without me by their side. The baby she was carrying… wouldn’t even know me.

I took a deep breath, forcing my thoughts back to what really mattered at that moment.

“Can you at least give me the answers I need today?” I asked, my voice hardening again. “So I can finally get the damn closure I wanted.” A pause; the silence between us grew heavy again. “When I come back next time,” I continued, “we can talk about how we’re going to balance our lives with our kids… and talk about the divorce.”

Her eyes widened.

“Divorce?”

I nodded, as if it were obvious.

“You’re not dead, Maggie.”

“I know I’m not dead,” she retorted, her voice a little firmer.

“So, legally, the marriage still exists,” I replied, holding her gaze. “And for it to end… either you kill me… or we get a divorce.”

The words came out cold and direct, but inside… it was like stabbing a knife into my own chest. Because, no matter how much a part of me hated what she’d done… Maggie was still everything.

The woman of my life.

My one and only love.

And the idea of not spending my life with her… destroyed me, but ever since she came back into my life the first time, all she’d done was ask for freedom, beg for it, and I’d promised. On the day I put that ring on her finger… I made a deal with her that if one day she wanted to leave… if she could go… I would let her.

I swallowed hard, holding her gaze.

Maybe what she did was more than a request, maybe it was the answer, and maybe… it was already past time for me to let her go.