Chapter 164
Evelyn's POV
I reached for it with my left hand—my right was still connected to the IV. The wrapping was simple brown paper tied with string. Inside was a book. Old. Worn. The cover was faded Cyrillic text that I recognized immediately.
Anna Karenina. Tolstoy.
"It was your mother's," Nikolai said. His voice had gone soft. "She was reading it when we met. Used to quote passages at me in Russian to help me understand why she loved literature so much." He paused. "I kept it. After she left. Told myself I'd return it to her someday when I found her again."
I opened the cover with shaking hands. Inside, written in elegant script on the title page, was a name.
Maria Valentine
And beneath it, in different handwriting—bolder, more angular—another inscription in Russian.
For Maria. May you always find beauty in words, even when the world offers only darkness. — N.
I stared at my mother's name. At Nikolai's words written twenty-six years ago to a woman he'd loved and lost. At this tangible proof that they'd existed together. That I'd come from something other than violence and desperation.
"Thank you," I managed. The words felt inadequate but they were all I had.
Nikolai nodded. Didn't move closer. Didn't try to press his advantage. Just stood there looking awkward and uncertain in a way I'd never seen before.
The silence stretched. Uncomfortable. Weighted with all the things we didn't know how to say to each other.
Finally, Nikolai cleared his throat. Turned his attention to Julian. "I need to speak with you. About security arrangements."
Julian raised an eyebrow. "Security arrangements."
"For the wedding." Nikolai's tone shifted. Became more businesslike. More comfortable with tactical discussion than emotional navigation. "I've reviewed your current protocols. They're adequate for standard threats but insufficient for what you're likely to face. Kholod may have backed down but there are others who will see your marriage as an opportunity. Rival organizations. Intelligence agencies. Anyone who wants leverage against either Titan or what remains of my network."
"I'm aware," Julian said. His voice had cooled. Gone professional. "Which is why I've already implemented enhanced security measures. Three-tier perimeter defense. Facial recognition at every access point. Counter-surveillance teams. And a tactical response unit on standby."
"Not enough." Nikolai shook his head. "You're thinking like a military contractor. Defending against external assault. But the real threat will come from inside. Compromised staff. Poisoned food. A guest with a concealed weapon. You need someone who understands how assassins think. How they infiltrate. How they exploit weaknesses in precisely these kinds of high-profile events."
Julian's jaw tightened. "And you're volunteering your expertise."
"I'm volunteering my resources." Nikolai's eyes were cold now. All business. "Kholod may be standing down but I still have operatives throughout the region. I can provide additional screening. Background checks that go deeper than anything your people can access. And—" He paused. "I can be there. Personally. To ensure nothing happens to my daughter on what should be the happiest day of her life."
The possessiveness in that last sentence made my stomach clench. My daughter. Like he'd earned that designation through biology alone. Like five years of Vorkuta could be erased by shared DNA.
"No." The word came out sharper than I'd intended. Both men turned to look at me. "You're not coming to my wedding."
Nikolai's expression didn't change but I saw something flicker in his eyes. Hurt, maybe. Or disappointment.
"Evelyn—" he started.
"You don't get to do this." I struggled to sit up further, ignoring the way my ribs screamed in protest. "You don't get to suddenly play protective father after spending five years turning me into a weapon. You don't get to show up with a book and some security concerns and act like that makes us family."
"I'm not trying to—" Nikolai stopped. Took a breath. "I know I can't undo what I did. Can't erase Vorkuta or the contracts or any of it. But I'm trying to—" Another pause. "I'm trying to be present. To help in whatever way you'll allow."
"Then help by staying away." The words came out crueler than I'd meant them. But I couldn't seem to stop. Couldn't seem to control the anger and hurt and confusion that had been building since he'd revealed the truth. "I don't need you at my wedding. I don't need you playing security consultant. I don't need you at all."
The silence that followed was absolute. Nikolai stood very still, his face carefully blank. But I could see the way his hands had clenched behind his back. The tension in his shoulders.
"I understand," he said finally. His voice was flat. Emotionless. The Tsar's voice, not a father's. "I'll make sure my people coordinate with Russell's team remotely. You won't see me. Won't have to acknowledge my presence. But the security enhancements will be in place whether you want them or not."
He turned toward the door. Julian moved to intercept him but I caught Julian's eye. Shook my head slightly. Let him go.
Nikolai paused with his hand on the door handle. "Your mother would have been disappointed in me," he said without turning around. "For what I did to you. For not finding her in time. For all of it." He pulled the door open. "But she would have been proud of you. For surviving. For finding someone who loves you despite everything. For choosing to live instead of just existing."
Then he was gone.
The door clicked shut. Julian stood staring at it for a long moment before turning back to me.
"That was harsh," he said. Not judgmental. Just—observational.
"He deserved it." I looked down at the book still clutched in my hands. At my mother's name written in her own hand. "He doesn't get to be my father. Not after everything."
"Maybe not." Julian returned to his chair. Took my hand again. "But he's trying. In his own completely dysfunctional way, he's trying."
"Trying isn't enough."
"No," Julian agreed. "It's not. But it's a start."