Chapter 76 Return home
Maria's POV
I had already finished the espresso.
The warmth still sat heavy in my chest, not comforting—just grounding enough to keep me from shaking apart.
Henry sat somewhere across from me in the kitchen.
I didn’t look at him.
I didn’t need to.
Because I remembered everything.
Being pulled out of the chaos at the diner.
The pain tearing through my side.
The ride I only half-consciously registered.
Waking up in a bed that wasn’t mine.
Aleksander’s compound.
And then last night.
Henry locking me in my room.
Not because I was in danger from outside.
But because Aleksander was falling apart downstairs.
Because Dimitri had said Adam’s name.
Because everything had cracked open in him at once.
I remembered sitting up in my room, hearing it all through the floor.
The shouting.
The breaking.
The silence after.
And then nothing.
Because Aleksander had left.
No explanation.
No goodbye.
Just gone.
That was the part that stuck like glass in my chest.
Not the violence.
Not the secrets.
The absence.
The kitchen was too quiet.
Henry shifted slightly in his chair like he could feel it too.
“He’s coming, Maria,” he said quietly.
I didn’t answer.
Because I already knew.
The front door opened.
That sound hit different.
Controlled.
Familiar.
Final.
My body reacted before my mind did.
I was already standing.
Henry stood right after me.
“Maria—wait,” he said, sharper now.
But I was already moving.
Footsteps came down the hall.
Slow.
Measured.
Aleksander.
Henry stepped in front of me instantly, one hand raised slightly like that was going to stop anything.
“Don’t,” he warned under his breath.
But I pushed past him anyway.
Hard.
Not caring if he followed.
Not caring if I shook.
The second I saw him in the doorway, something in me snapped clean.
He stepped inside the kitchen like he owned the silence in it.
Like he always did.
But I wasn’t standing still this time.
“You locked me in my room.”
My voice cut through the space before he even fully turned toward me.
Henry’s breath caught behind me.
Aleksander stopped.
Just stopped.
Didn’t react.
Didn’t speak.
That same controlled pause that always made me feel like I was already losing the argument before it started.
“I was in there,” I continued, sharper now. “Last night. While everything downstairs was happening. While you were losing control. While Dimitri was telling you what Adam did.”
A flicker in his jaw.
Small.
But there.
“And Henry locked the door,” I said, turning slightly like I could still feel it. “Like I didn’t need to be part of any of it.”
Henry shifted behind me.
I didn’t look at him.
“I heard everything,” I added.
That landed differently.
Aleksander’s gaze sharpened slightly.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
Like he had hoped I hadn’t.
“I heard you,” I said again. “Downstairs. Breaking everything. Losing control. Hearing that name and snapping like the world split open under your feet.”
Silence filled the kitchen.
Thick.
Controlled.
Too controlled.
“And then you left,” I said.
My voice cracked slightly on the last word.
I hated that it did.
But I didn’t stop.
“You didn’t come upstairs. You didn’t say anything to me. You didn’t even look at me.”
That was it.
That was the real wound.
Not Adam.
Not Dimitri.
Not the chaos downstairs.
It was that I had been upstairs in his compound, locked in my room, hearing him fall apart—
and still not matter enough to be acknowledged.
Aleksander finally spoke.
Low.
Controlled.
“You were not part of that.”
That sentence hit like a slap.
I let out a short, humorless laugh.
“Oh,” I said. “So that’s what this is.”
I stepped forward.
“You decide I’m ‘not part of it’ so I just sit locked in my room while your world collapses under me?” I asked. “That’s how you handle this?”
Silence.
No correction.
No defense.
Just control.
“That’s not protection,” I said, voice rising. “That’s exclusion.”
His jaw tightened slightly.
Good.
Something was getting through.
“I was in my room upstairs,” I continued. “Hurt. And Henry locks me away like I’m not even here while everything happens downstairs.”
Henry shifted again.
I turned just slightly.
“You did that,” I said flatly.
He didn’t respond.
Because he knew I was right.
I turned back to Aleksander.
“You don’t get to bring me into your world,” I said, “and then decide which parts I’m allowed to exist in.”
A beat.
The air tightened.
Then—
Aleksander moved.
Fast.
His hand caught my wrist.
Firm.
And before I could argue again—
he pulled me in and kissed me.
Hard.
Not soft.
Not emotional.
A stop.
My breath disappeared instantly.
For a moment, everything stopped.
Then—
he pulled back.
Not far.
Never far.
His thumb stayed against my wrist for a second longer than necessary.
His eyes didn’t leave mine.
Behind me, Henry exhaled like he’d been holding his breath since last night.
Aleksander finally spoke.
Low.
Final.
“You are safe,” he said.
Not an answer.
A boundary.
“I don’t care about safe,” I whispered. “I care about being shut out like I don’t matter.”
His gaze held mine.
Unblinking.
“I did not shut you out,” he said.
“You locked me in my room,” I shot back instantly.
That landed.
A flicker crossed his face.
Not anger.
Something tighter.
“You were not supposed to hear that,” he said finally.
“So I’m just supposed to disappear while you fall apart?” I snapped.
Silence.
Then—
“I handled it,” he said.
That was it.
That always was it.
“You keep saying that like it explains anything,” I said. “Like it fixes the fact that I was upstairs locked in a room while you broke downstairs and then left without a word.”
Something shifted in him.
Control strain.
“I did not disappear,” he said.
“You left,” I corrected.
A beat.
Longer.
Then—
he released my wrist.
Slowly.
Like he was choosing restraint over instinct.
He stepped back half a step.
Not distance.
But space.
“You are here,” he said. “That is all that matters.”
My chest tightened.
Because that wasn’t comfort.
That was containment.
“I don’t want just ‘here,’” I said quietly. “I want to not feel like I’m outside of everything while I’m inside your life.”
Silence.
Heavy again.
Aleksander studied me.
Not cold.
Not soft.
Something in between that I didn’t have a name for.
“You are not part of what I had to do last night,” he said.
“And I don’t care,” I whispered.
That finally broke something in his expression.
Not fully.
But enough.
A crack.
Not in control.
In restraint.
He stepped forward again.
Slower this time.
And kissed me again.
Not force.
Not silence.
Something heavier.
Something like truth he couldn’t say.
When he pulled back, his voice was lower than before.
“You are here because you are safe here,” he said.
“And I was locked in my room like I didn’t matter,” I replied quietly.
Silence.
Henry shifted again behind me.
Waiting.
Aleksander didn’t look away from me.
And for the first time—
I realized the truth wasn’t that I didn’t matter.
It was that I mattered too much for him to let me see what it cost.
And that was somehow worse.