Chapter 87: 87● ALEXANDER KIREEV (POV)

ALEXANDER KIREEV

I don’t move a single centimeter when I hear the sound of a car in the courtyard. Dmitri, in front of me, looks like he’s about to explode. You can feel it. His face is set, far too red; his entire body tense, as if holding something that refuses to be contained. He knows that Harper being with Viktor has struck too deep, because Dmitri knows our brother. He knows what he’s capable of when he wants something—even if that means challenging whoever stands in his way.

Including himself.

And it’s no secret to me. It never was. Viktor has always felt something for Harper. From early on. He just learned to hide it better over time, amusing himself with others. They grew up together, shared childhoods, silences, fears. Then came the attack, and they were forced apart, with Harper being sent to boarding school. Even so, I would take Viktor with me from time to time, under the pretext of “checking how things were.” Always under her father’s watchful eyes, always careful. But the bond never broke. It only changed shape and went into hiding when Viktor began taking on tasks delegated to him by me.

The car stops. The snow reflects the headlights. I don’t look directly. I watch through the glass.

Viktor gets out first. His body alert, his gaze sweeping the area before anything else. Automatic protection. Harper steps out right after him. Her coat is closed—it isn’t hers, since it stayed with me when she left with Viktor. Her posture is tired but firm. She doesn’t look scared. She looks prepared. That catches my attention more than it should.

Dmitri takes a step forward without realizing it. I raise my hand, restraining him, without looking at him.

“Stay.”

They come in. The warmth of the house wraps around them. Only then does Viktor relax his shoulders a little. Harper thinks about taking off the coat, but her eyes automatically find Dmitri’s, who, strangely enough, tightens his jaw, weighing what to say.

Harper takes a step toward him. Not desperate—more natural, like someone who seems to have waited a long time for the moment. This is getting worse than I expected.

“Dmi…” She smiles, sincere. But my dear brother doesn’t return it.

He simply moves away, turning around and leaving the room as if there were nothing there that demanded a reaction. The space between them is minimal, but he makes a point of keeping it intact.

Harper stands still. Her hand remains suspended. Her expression changes—first confused, then closed off. She turns to follow his path with her eyes, waiting for some sign.

None comes, and from what I know of him, it will take a while before it comes again.

He disappears down the hallway to our right, heading straight for the study. The door shuts right after. It isn’t violent, but it’s sharp enough to make Harper flinch slightly.

She takes a deep breath, clearly trying to reorganize something inside herself. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t ask. She just lowers her hand slowly, as if she’d forgotten what she was going to do with it.

Viktor watches, moving closer to Harper slowly. He tilts his face toward her ear and whispers something too low for me to hear. I see her reaction instantly—Harper blushes, her lips and hands tightening slightly.

That irritates me. Just like the smirk spreading across Viktor’s face as he looks over her shoulder, straight at me.

I don’t raise my voice. I don’t need to.

“Viktor,” I call, dry.

He pulls back a little—but not enough for my liking.

“I just made her remember a bit of our outing… did that bother you, brother?”

“No,” I cut in. I take a step forward. The distance between us closes fast. “You like testing my patience, when the only rule I gave you was to bring her back to the mansion.”

Harper looks at me immediately. Her movement is instant, almost automatic. Her hand lifts toward my shoulder, pulling the fabric of my half-open shirt aside just enough to reveal part of the bandage.

“Did you change the dressing?” she asks, her voice lower, weighted with concern. “Are you in pain?”

Her touch is light. Careful. It doesn’t go beyond that. But it’s enough.

Viktor sees it. Of course he does.

His gaze darkens a shade—not with open anger, but with something more contained, more personal. He says nothing, only steps back once, as if he’s been excluded from something he can’t quite name.

“It’s nothing,” I tell Harper, gently moving her hand away. “It’s already taken care of. You being careful earlier already helped.”

She doesn’t look convinced. Her eyes linger on the bandage a second longer than they should, as if weighing risks she can’t control.

“You should rest.” She lifts her gaze back to mine, tilting her head slightly, offering a shy smile.

Before I can answer, Viktor lets out a low, short laugh. “After today?” he says. “I think everyone here should.”

He steps out from behind Harper to stand beside her, tilts his head slightly, and winks at her—shameless.

“Good night. It was… a long day.”

He doesn’t wait for a response.

Then he looks at me. The same half-smile, provocative. “I’m going to my room. I’m exhausted.”

He walks away without saying anything else. And he doesn’t need to. From the scene as a whole, from both of their reactions, it’s clear that something happened. Before, Harper wouldn’t even let Viktor get too close. Now her body doesn’t pull away. It just reacts differently.

She follows his movement with her eyes for a second, then turns back to me. Her face is still tense, flushed, her breathing too shallow for someone who’s just tired.

“He… took me,” she says, as if she’s still organizing the words.

“No,” I interrupt, cold. “Go rest. You don’t owe me explanations about what did or didn’t happen with Viktor. With any of my brothers, for that matter.”

That hits her the wrong way.

Her shoulders tense. Her gaze hardens, losing the softness it had just seconds before.

“Funny,” she replies, her voice low and sharp. “Because it feels like everyone here thinks they can decide where I go, who I stay with, and what I do. Everyone except me.”

I take a step forward, but stop before invading her space too much. “Don’t confuse protection with control.”

She lets out a short, humorless laugh. “That’s easy to say when you’re not the one being manipulated, controlled all the time—especially by you, Alexander.”

“Harper, it’s not like that. You and Viktor disappeared for an entire day, right after we survived an attack.”

“No,” she cuts in now. “You just said I don’t owe explanations. So don’t act like you’re doing me a favor. And it was you who told him to get me out of there when my uncle showed up.”

The silence that falls is heavy. She takes a deep breath, visibly trying to pull herself together. “I’m going upstairs,” she says at last. “But not because you told me to.”

She passes by me without asking permission, without touching me, but close enough to make it clear the distance was her choice. She climbs the stairs with firm steps, different from before. Harder.

I stay where I am, watching until the sound disappears upstairs.

I run a hand through my hair, shifting my attention to the snow starting to fall harder outside.

If she had any idea of everything that’s happening because she reappeared, she wouldn’t think I’m trying to control her. I just want to make sure everything unfolds the right way—without any more surprises along the way.