64

The sun hadn’t even risen yet when Sophie slipped out of bed.

She moved quietly, careful not to wake Alexander. His hand was still resting near her pillow, his brow relaxed in the rare way she only ever saw when he was deep in sleep. There was a peace on his face she hadn’t seen in years.

She didn’t want to disturb it.

But the message on her phone—Nikolai’s message—was still carved into her thoughts like glass against skin.

"You should ask Viktor why he kept you from the one person who could have saved your mother."

That sentence had haunted her all night.

It was poison and bait, and it worked.

Because now she had to know.

The kitchen was dark, save for the pale strip of light that leaked under the curtain. She poured water into the kettle, her hands steady even though her heart wasn’t.

Footsteps approached.

Mei entered, already dressed in black, her hair pulled back, earbuds still hanging from her neck.

“You’re up early,” she said.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Mei watched her for a moment, then leaned against the counter. “It’s about Nikolai’s message, isn’t it?”

Sophie didn’t answer.

Mei exhaled. “Do you want me to wake Viktor?”

“I don’t want him to have time to prepare.”

Mei raised an eyebrow. “You think he’ll lie?”

“I think he already did.”

Sophie didn’t wait for the kettle to boil. She poured the half-heated water into a mug and turned toward the door.

Mei followed her silently down the hallway and into Viktor’s wing of the house.

She knocked once.

No answer.

She pushed the door open anyway.

Viktor was already awake. Sitting by the window in a thin robe, sipping coffee like it was any other morning.

He didn’t look surprised to see her.

“I was wondering how long it would take,” he said.

Sophie walked in slowly. “Then you know what I’m going to ask.”

“I do.”

She sat across from him. Mei stayed by the door.

Viktor placed his coffee down with deliberate care. “You want to know why I never told you about Nikolai. Why I kept you from him. Why I didn’t give you the truth when your mother was dying.”

Sophie’s throat tightened. “Yes.”

Viktor’s voice was calm. “Because I knew what he would do.”

“You mean love me?”

“No.” Viktor’s eyes hardened. “Use you.”

Sophie flinched.

“You were a weapon to him,” Viktor said. “A beautiful, brilliant tool he could bend toward any end. You think you were safe with him?”

“I didn’t ask to be safe,” she snapped. “I asked to know the truth.”

“And I gave you a future instead.”

Sophie’s voice rose. “By taking away my choices?”

“Yes.”

The answer was instant. Sharp.

Unapologetic.

“You would’ve given everything for him,” Viktor said. “You would’ve burned yourself to keep him warm. You would’ve told him about your father’s debts, your mother’s illness, your own fears—and he would’ve used all of it.”

Her fists clenched. “He says he would’ve helped her.”

“He wouldn’t have.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” Viktor said. “Because I know what he is. And I know what your mother meant to you. And I couldn’t watch you sell yourself for someone who would leave you bleeding when it stopped serving him.”

Sophie stood, her voice trembling. “You don’t get to make that decision.”

“I already did.”

“And I hate you for it.”

“I know.”

They stared at each other.

She was shaking.

So was he.

“You took something from me,” she whispered. “Something I can never get back.”

Viktor’s voice broke. “And I live with that every single day.”

Silence.

Then—

Sophie turned and walked out.

Back in her bedroom, she paced.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

Alexander was sitting on the edge of the bed now, shirtless, hair messy, eyes still laced with sleep but alert.

He watched her.

Said nothing.

She finally stopped, facing him.

“I asked him.”

“I figured.”

She folded her arms. “He admitted it.”

Alexander’s brows furrowed. “What, exactly?”

“He knew Nikolai might’ve helped. Might’ve saved my mother. And he didn’t tell me.”

Alexander’s jaw tightened.

“He said he did it to protect me.”

“Did he?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know anymore.”

He stood and crossed to her, resting his hands on her shoulders. “Do you hate him?”

“Yes.”

“But?”

“But I also hate that I understand why he did it.”

Alexander nodded.

“You’re not weak for that.”

She looked up. “I feel weak.”

“You’re not.”

Her arms slipped around his waist.

He held her close.

And whispered into her hair, “I think you’re the strongest person I’ve ever known.”

She held on tighter.

Neither spoke for a long time.

Then Sophie pulled back. “I need to do something.”

Alexander looked at her. “What?”

“I need to talk to Nikolai. One more time.”

Alexander frowned. “Sophie—”

“I have to know what he would’ve done. If he’d known about my mother. About everything.”

Alexander’s face darkened. “He’ll twist it.”

“I know.”

“But you still want to go.”

“I have to.”

He searched her eyes. “Will you take me with you this time?”

“No.”

“Sophie—”

“But I’ll let you listen,” she said quietly. “I’ll wear a wire. You’ll be in the car. I won’t be alone.”

Alexander didn’t respond immediately.

Then he nodded once. “Fine.”

Sophie placed a hand on his cheek. “After this, no more secrets.”

He covered her hand with his. “Promise me something.”

“What?”

“When this is over... when the truth is done hurting us... we leave the past behind.”

She blinked. “And go where?”

“Anywhere,” he said. “Everywhere. As long as Ethan’s with us, as long as you’re with me… I don’t care.”

Her throat tightened.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I promise.”

He kissed her, slow and soft.

Then he stepped back.

And she reached for her phone.

Because it was time.

One last meeting.

One final truth.

And after that—whatever came next, she wouldn’t face it alone.