6. Alexei

ALEXEI

I fully intended to spend the rest of the year in Novgorod.

I’m married. I’ve met my bride. I’ve celebrated with Elena.

There is no reason for me to go back.

But through the day, I find my mind returning to her.

Magdalena… Maggie … she is beautiful.

I won’t deny that.

Petite. Lushly curved. Big, brown eyes that are large in her beautiful face. I looked into her, something that I had previously not done, and learned that she is smart as well.

She was going to school to become a doctor. Of the mind. A shrink.

I don’t understand why, but I admire that she decided to make that decision.

I’m curious to know why her father chose to remain some kind of nameless benefactor. It seems to me that a man of honor and power would choose to protect his family by keeping them close.

But I wonder what kept him apart.

Magdalena’s words ring in my ears. You’re the bigger monster .

I have never been ashamed of being a monster. Not once.

I’m not ashamed of it now.

But I am… wondering.

Is that all she sees me as? A beast that can guard her? One who might bite, but she chooses to risk the teeth over the horrors that face her in other ways?

That does not sit well with me. Not at all.

I continue to ponder this predicament through the meetings of my day. When it comes time to retire to the penthouse, I call my driver instead.

Anatoly answers. “Boss.”

“Take me to Orlov House.”

He pauses. “The weather…”

“Are you a fucking mouse, Anatoly? You wish to hide so the snow doesn’t bury you?”

Anatoly growls. “I will meet you in five.”

I hang up the phone.

Anatoly doesn’t need to make me second guess my choice. I want to be out of here, and I don’t want to be in Novgorod.

I have the strangest compulsion to be at Orlov House.

And I am concerned that it has something to do with the newest inhabitant.

The snow is thick, and even I will admit that. Despite the SUV’s tires and drive system, we slide the majority of the way back to Orlov House, and when we pull into the long drive, the front of the vehicle pushes snow in front of it.

Anatoly looks at me. “If the snow increases, I will not be able to take you back to Novgorod.”

“We can take the tank,” I rumble.

“It’s still being serviced. And you’d use a tank to get back to Novgorod?”

If I need to escape, I will take any avenue that I need to.

“Boss,” Anatoly sighs. “I’ll take you wherever you need. You know this.”

“Stop complaining about it, then.”

He doesn’t answer.

Safely parked in the garage, I slam the car door shut and march into the house.

The first thing I notice is the scent.

It kicks me in my chest. My mother used to make the house smell like this around the holiday season. Spices, citrus, and something sweet all grab my chest and pull at my heart.

I shut my eyes for a second, overwhelmed by the nostalgia of it.

It is the music next. Orlov House is a large home. Parts of it are old, but most of it is built as a manor house in the style popular in the 1800s.

Which means that it is a house of many hallways, many rooms, and very few large spaces.

The trill of music, melodies that seem bright, with all the singing in English, pulls me through the house. Hallway after hallway, room after room, everything looks…

Bright.

Finally, I find the source of the music. Gathered in the great hall, the living room where my mother loved to host her holiday gatherings, I find Elena and Magdalena.

And, surrounding them, are memories that I would rather have never faced.

My jaw drops.

Holiday decorations drip from every surface. Most of them are familiar; my mother had them, and I’ve seen them before.

However, they are in different locations than I remember. Or they are positioned differently. Or there are some that I don’t remember at all, and that bothers me too.

There is a tree.

A tree so tall, it towers over me, and I have absolutely no idea how two short women managed to cover the entire thing in decorations and lights in the span of a day.

“Alexei!” Elena says, her joy oozing from her words. “Look what the new lady of the house has done!”

New lady of the house.

Magdalena’s brown eyes turn on me, her cherry-red lips tilted in an expectant lilt.

“Do you like it?”

My heart slams in my chest.

I can’t see the room. Not anymore. All that I see around me is my mother. The happiness she had when putting out the decorations. The way she used to hold me up to the tree to place the decorations.

The smell of her underneath the citrus-sweet smell that’s dominating the air.

Grief.

That is what claws at my chest.

Grief. Loss. I feel the absence of my mother like a bullet wound. No, not a single bullet. A shotgun wound, a gaping hole in my chest that I can’t seem to fill, and that can’t be repaired by any number of stitches.

My ears ring, and the sounds of the festive music turn to a screech in my mind.

I miss her.

The thought bubbles forward, and it feels like it’s going to break me.

I have not missed my mother in…

Years.

I have not allowed myself to miss her. I have not allowed myself to feel the grief that’s ripping me apart. My blood sizzles through my veins, and my heart pounds against the edges of my ribs.

I have to get out of here.

I turn and run.

The hallways of Orlov House twist around me. The portraits of my ancestors seem to leer, ashamed of my cowardice.

Ashamed of the depth of loss that’s drowning me right now.

My footsteps beat, a drum that matches the pounding in my chest. I run until I find myself in a room covered in draped sheets, ghosts that are illuminated only by the pale light coming from the large windows that look over the grounds.

Her rooms.

It’s dark in here. Quiet. I hiss out a breath, trying to get myself under control.

I almost have it.

Then, I hear a sweet, resonant voice.

“Alexei?”

I screw my eyes shut. “Not now, Magdalena.”

I wish she would take the hint.

“Alexei. Look. I’m sorry, I don’t know…”

“That’s right,” I spin, snarling at her. “You don’t know.”

Magdalena freezes.

I come up on her. “You don’t know, Magdalena! You have no idea! You don’t know who I am! You don’t know me! You have no idea what you’ve done! Those decorations, that room, this room…” I heave a breath in, the words disappearing on my tongue.

I’m yelling. I know I am.

But Magdalena stands strong in front of me.

“You have no idea what you’ve done,” I finish.

She studies me. I can tell she’s afraid; the paleness of her face reflects in the moonlight.

But she does not relent. And she does not back down.

Instead, she tips her chin and folds her arms and looks at me.

“You’re right. Of course I don’t know. Because you haven’t told me, Alexei. I don’t know what this room is. I don’t know what the decorations mean to you. I don’t know what the hell you want from me, other than to be the ticket to just have this empty, old house. You know, why do you even want this house if you’re just going to let it rot?”

I seethe. “I will not let Orlov House rot.”

“Oh yeah? Because the way you’re going, if you keep it up, you’re not going to fill it with a family.”

I freeze.

She huffs. “I might be your wife but I’m not a broodmare. If you want to have children, you have to talk to me. Let me know why you hate the decorations. You have to be sweet. You have to seduce me,” she says.

My mind hangs on that word.

“You think I could not seduce you?” I growl.

She rolls her eyes. “No, I don’t?—”

I do not let her finish that sentence.

My hands grip her face, and with a rough tug, I bring her face to mine.

The moment that my lips descend on hers, I know that my world is about to change.

And, that I have made a colossal mistake.