Chapter 52

Chapter

Fifty-Two

"Love is like the wind, you can't see it but you can feel it."

― Nicholas Sparks

Alexsei

I paced in circles in my office, glancing at my watch for the hundredth time in the last hour. My nerves clawed at me, my heart ready to explode out of my chest.

Fuck, Alexsei, get it together.

The last time I felt this wound up was when Caia gave birth to our son. That memory crashed over me, leaving me feeling empty. I sank into my chair, burying my face in my hands, my elbows digging into the desk.

Lukyan. His innocent face filled my mind, and my heart shattered again. Those weeks after his funeral? A nightmare I still can't escape. I survived, but I don't know how .

Caia leaving amidst our grief felt like being set on fire, doused, only to be burned alive again. For two years, I've clawed through shadows, searching for answers to who killed my boy. But all I've found was silence. The security footage? Tampered. Every trace erased.

I've asked Caia a million times. All she remembers is letting Lukyan play in his playpen and heading to my office to drop off the photos she took of them both in the afternoon. She wanted me to have them, to keep them close while I worked.

Her voice trembled as she recounted how she walked in, eager to surprise me with snapshots of his laughter. Then her tone would grow distant, haunted, as she described the sickening thud against her skull, the darkness swallowing her whole.

For two years, I've felt like a ghost, questioning everything, trapped in a never-ending cycle of grief. Then one day, it hit me.

We call kids without parents orphans , but what the hell do we call parents who've lost their kids? In that unbearable moment, I realized something I wish I could forget: I will always be my son's father, no matter where life drags me. That bond is carved into my soul, an unbreakable chain that defies time and space.

My love for Lukyan is eternal.

That's why I know I won't rest until I avenge my baby and my wife.

The phone on my desk rang, pulling me from my dark thoughts.

"Yes?" I answered, sweat pooling in my palms.

"Someone's here to see you, Mr. Romaniev," Stacy, my secretary, said.

"Okay." I hung up, forcing myself to breathe .

Then, three soft knocks echoed before Stacy opened the door, a tight smile on her lips. "Caia Mankiev, Sir."

Mankiev? Annoyance flared in my chest but faded as she stepped inside.

Our eyes locked, green meeting blue—like spring breaking through the ice, breathing life back into a frozen world. In that instant, the chaos vanished. It was just us, Alexsei and Caia, before the games, before the hatred, before love twisted into heartache.

The ache in my bones grew stronger, a desperate longing to reach out, to pull her close and feel her heart beating next to mine again. For a brief moment, it was as if she had never left. But the illusion shattered when she cleared her throat.

"Hello, husband ," she said softly, gripping her purse tighter.

Her voice calling my name brought a rush of warmth back into me. I stood there, just staring at her.

She'd cut her hair—it was shorter than last time, falling to her chest, still that chestnut color I loved. She'd lost some weight too; her cheeks were less full, more defined. She wore black Converse, a black denim skirt, and a long-sleeved knotted jumpsuit. She was unmistakably my Caia, yet something felt different.

"Hi, wife ," I murmured, barely above a whisper.

The moment those words left my lips, her lips pursed, and a shadow of sadness flickered in her eyes.

My throat tightened, but I managed to croak out, "Please, take a seat." With a heavy heart, I sank into my chair, bracing myself for what was to come. "How are you, Caia?"

She slowly took a seat in front of me, her head bowed and fingers fidgeting. "I'm good," she replied softly.

I leaned back, frustration thick in my voice. "Why does hearing that cut so deep?" I whispered, the agony seeping through. I wanted her to fucking say it—how these two goddamn years apart had been hell, how seeing me now must've unleashed a torrent of emotions, and that she still fucking loved me, never wanting to be apart again. But it felt like I was the only one drowning in this mess of feelings.

With a deep sigh, Caia finally looked up.

"Let's not beat around the bush," she said, her voice trembling. "I need your help, Alexsei. Someone's trying to kill me."

What?

"Someone's trying to kill you?" I echoed, the disbelief in my voice barely masking the rising anger.

Caia nodded. "Yes. I don't know who or why, but I'm scared. I need your help…please."

What the hell's going on?

"How do you know someone's after you?"

Why would anyone target her? Then the cold realization hit me. Someone had already succeeded in killing my son. Now, she was the next target.

"Someone's been following me for weeks. I can feel it." She shuddered. "Wherever I go, I feel someone watching me, stalking me. Two nights ago, Steven and I?—"

My blood ran cold.

My eyes narrowed. "Steven?"

Caia hesitated, her gaze faltering. "My housemate. We?—"

"Is he your… boyfriend?" The question burst out, laced with a possessive edge.

He better fucking not be.

Jealousy flared up, burning like a wildfire, threatening to consume me. I'd leap out of the thirteenth floor if it meant finding this Steven.

Her eyes dropped to her lap. "He's just a friend," she mumbled.

" Just a friend?"

My fists clenched, barely containing my fury.

Before Caia could even open her mouth, a fierce determination gripped me like a vice.

"I don't give a fuck who he is," I said, my voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "We're going to hunt down whoever's after you and end them. But first, I need every detail you've got."

As she shifted uneasily, Caia murmured, "Whatever you need…"

I leaned in closer, eyes locked onto hers. "Then you're moving in with me," I said, my tone brooking no argument.

Her eyes widened in shock. "What?! No, I don't think?—"

"To keep you safe," I cut in, my voice firm. "I'm not taking no for an answer. You're staying with me until we sort this out."

She frowned, shaking her head. "I don't think it's necessary, Alexsei."

I raised an eyebrow, my expression turning cold. "Not necessary? After what you've done to me, you think I want you in my space? This isn't about my feelings; it's about keeping you alive. So, if I have to put up with you under my roof to make sure you're safe, then so fucking be it."

The truth was, the mere thought of having her in my space set off fucking fireworks in my chest.

With a resigned sigh, she looked at me, the fight draining from her eyes. "Fine," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "I'll do everything you say, Alexsei—until I'm no longer in danger."

"Wait, you said what? Are you fucking stupid?"

I let out a rough sigh, leaning my head back against the seat and cutting off the engine. "I told her she had to move in with me."

I know. It's selfish as hell. But I needed her close, needed to feel her around, just to know she was safe. So, I played it up, and said it was all for her protection. If she wasn't my Caia, I wouldn't even bother—I'd just send some of my men to keep an eye on her and protect her if needed, like I would for any other client. But she's still mine, still my wife, whether she wants to admit it or not.

So, I'll be the one keeping her safe, and I'll destroy anyone who tries to touch her.

Volk's silence on the other end of the phone was short-lived. "Romaniev, you're a fucking idiot. I swear."

"Do me a favor, asshole, enlighten me. What was I supposed to do when my wife shows up after two fucking years and asks me for protection? Tell her to fuck off and figure it out herself?" My anger was damn near boiling over.

"After all the shit she put you through? Yeah, pretty much," Volk shot back, his voice cold as ice.

"Fuck you, Mikhail."

He sighed. "I'm just saying that I don't think her moving in with you is going to end well."

In some sick way, he was right. I didn't want her tearing my heart to pieces again, but I had a plan. I was going to make her fall for me all over again. That's why I was sitting outside her apartment, watching her grab a few things before heading back to mine. I couldn't shake the feeling that she might change her mind and stay the hell away from me. But I wasn't about to let that happen. I was all in, no matter what.

"Anyway, thanks for LeRoy. Seems like he'll be a good fit for Scarlett's bullshit. First time I've met a guy more uptight than Lazzio. Dude doesn't even know how to crack a damn smile," I scoffed .

"LeRoy's been through hell, but he's the best there is. He handles the kind of shit most guys would run from," Volk said. "Perfect for Scarlett, someone who'll keep her safe and in line."

I grunted in response just as Caia stepped out of her building, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. A guy in a black tracksuit helped her down the stairs, wrapping his arms around her waist. My grip on the wheel tightened as I watched her kiss the guy on the cheek and wave him off before heading toward my car.

"Gotta go," I muttered, ending the call.

Who the hell was that?

Steven?

He's dead meat.

I stepped out of the car, locking eyes with the guy still standing at the top of the stairs, sizing us up. His gaze lingered too long for my liking. I shot him a dark look, not breaking eye contact until I had Caia's duffel bag in hand and tossed it into the backseat. Once she was in the car, I slammed the door harder than I needed to. The tension in the air was suffocating as I fired up the engine, peeling away from the curb, tires screeching against the pavement.

Caia's voice broke through the simmering silence. "Sorry for ruining your day," she muttered, fidgeting in her seat, her eyes glued to her lap.

"You didn't ruin anything," I replied, my voice curter than intended. I reached out, brushing her hand lightly. She tensed immediately, pulling away and crossing her arms.

Great.

I dragged a hand through my hair, trying to play it off like her reaction didn't bother me. But it did. Like a fucking punch straight to the neck.

"Thanks," she whispered, almost too quiet to hear over the roar of the engine .

We fell into a heavy silence as I drove through the city. Even at this time of night, New York's streets buzzed with life. People, lights, noise—everything kept moving. But inside the car, it was just the two of us, and the distance between us felt wider than ever.

I finally pulled into the underground garage of my building. Killing the engine, the sudden quiet hit like a slap. The dim lighting made everything feel more suffocating as we sat there, neither of us moving.

I got out first, grabbing her duffel bag from the back. Wordlessly, I opened her door, and she followed, head down, as we walked toward the elevator. The sound of our footsteps echoed in the cold, concrete silence.

Fuck, things had never been this awkward between us.

I stole a glance at her, noticing the way her brow was furrowed, the tight press of her lips.

Damn it, how did we get here? I had to make her see that I was still me, still her Lexi, her husband. But right now, all I could do was keep moving forward, hoping I'd find a way to tear down whatever walls were between us.

As we stepped into the elevator, I forced a grin. "Don't worry, no mid-ride make-out sessions this time," I joked, tossing a wink her way.

The memory of our last elevator kiss flashed through my mind—coming back from the movies, hands all over each other, the way I stopped the damn thing just to kiss her like my life depended on it. It was deep, intense, the kind of kiss that sticks with you.

And days later, she asked me to do it all over again.

As Caia looked up, her cheeks took on a faint pinkish hue, her eyes shy. "Oh, you remember," she said softly, a little chuckle escaping her lips.

Her reaction hit me in all the right places, and I couldn't help but smile.

"I told you, Caia," I said, my voice low and rough. "I doubt there's anything I could ever forget about you."

I said the words I'd told her a couple of years ago, back when she still hated me—or rather, hated how much she was drawn to me.

But hell, it was the truth.

I remembered everything.

Every word, every touch, every goddamn moment we'd shared was burned into my mind like a brand. Every time she laughed, every time she cried, the way she'd look at me—like I was her entire world. I remembered it all, and fuck if I didn't want to relive every second, to have her by my side again.

A faint, sad smile played on her lips. ?I remember everything, too," she whispered, a hint of sadness in her eyes, as if the memories were both a blessing and a curse.

Our eyes locked—her green against my blue—and I swear it took everything in me not to reach out, grab her by the chin, and kiss her until she forgot how to breathe. Until she remembered what it felt like to be mine.

But I couldn't.

Not yet.

Too fucking fast, Alexsei.

The desire burned hot in my chest, an ache that wouldn't quit, but I knew better than to rush it. Pushing her too hard would only send her running, and I couldn't risk that. Not now. Not when I finally had her this close again. I needed to play this smart.

We made our way out of the elevator and toward my condo. I tapped in the code, the lock beeped softly, and the door swung open .

"Welcome to your new home, Caia," I said, gesturing for her to step inside with a sly smile curling my lips.

Let the new game begin.