Chapter 62

Chapter

Sixty-Two

"If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. If they don't, they never were."

― Kahlil Gibran

Alexsei

I straightened my tie one last time, giving the room a quick once-over to make sure everything was set before heading into the living room. The place was quiet, except for the low hum of jazz coming from the stereo, and the soft light filtering through the windows, casting a warm glow across the space.

With my pulse racing, I crossed the room, moving toward Caia

Wrapping my arms around her, I was careful not to hold her too tightly—just enough to feel her warmth against me. In that moment, everything clicked, like the final piece of a puzzle falling into place.

"You ready, moya solnyshka ?" I whispered, my lips brushing against the curve of her neck.

She gave a slow nod, her hands tracing softly along my arms.

Caia had been in the hospital for two weeks. Her shoulder wasn't broken, but it was bruised and sore from the desperate struggle to free herself when she was trapped.

Thank God it wasn't worse.

The memory of that night still haunted me—the endless search through every inch of Angelo's building, fear and anger hammering through my chest. When I finally heard her cries echo from below, I ran without even noticing the alarm had stopped.

I found her behind a heavy metal door, its handles barricaded with wood from the outside. I ripped the barrier apart and pushed the door open. She was sprawled on the cold floor, her dress torn to shreds, streaks of blood marking her legs and arms, her face a mask of exhaustion and pain. My heart nearly stopped at the sight.

Without a second thought, I scooped her up, her body limp and unresponsive, and sprinted toward the waiting ambulance. Firefighters were still fighting the flames, the red lights flashing outside as they rushed her to the hospital.

She stayed unconscious for three fucking agonizing days. When she finally opened her eyes, she looked so drained, so completely broken, I nearly lost my damn mind. I would've sold my soul to the devil himself if it meant sparing her even a second of that pain.

We brought her home a few days ago, and I can see the slow signs of improvement. The color's back in her cheeks, and she even asked if she could stay with me a bit longer. She has no idea how that simple request filled me with pure, overwhelming happiness.

If only she knew where we were headed... if only she fucking knew.

"Need anything else?" I asked, releasing her as I grabbed my car keys and headed toward the door to put on my shoes.

"No, I'm all set," she said with a smile, slipping into her kitten heels and smoothing her hair in the mirror. "We're running late, and I don't want Sofiya and Volk waiting too long. We should hurry."

We stepped out and headed down the hallway to the elevator. The soft chime announced its arrival, and as the doors slid open, we stepped inside. The quiet hum of the elevator carried us down to the parking lot floor, where my black Range Rover waited in its spot.

We climbed in, and I started the engine, the deep rumble blending with the city sounds as we pulled out of the garage. The streets were packed, the golden glow of the setting sun casting long shadows over the pavement.

The past few weeks had been hell—watching the woman I love so shattered, in so much pain, and not being able to do a damn thing. So, for me, there was no more fucking waiting for tomorrow, no more patience left.

That's why I had to lie, telling her Volk and Sofiya wanted to have dinner, just so she wouldn't question why we had to dress up and head out instead of cooking dinner or watching a movie like the past few nights.

With my hand on the wheel, her fingers laced through mine on her thigh, I stole a glance at her. She was softly humming, eyes drifting across the passing cityscape. Her sleek ponytail framed her face, showing off those glossy lips and rosy cheeks. A bit of makeup made her emerald eyes stand out even more .

She caught me staring and gave me a sweet smile.

I turned my attention back to the road, raising her hand to my lips for a quick kiss.

After thirty minutes of silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts, I made a left and entered an underground parking lot. I pulled to a stop, unbuckling my seatbelt as Caia did the same. Her brows furrowed as she scanned the dimly lit space with a look of cautious curiosity.

"Where are we?" she asked.

I let out a sigh. "Caia, I haven't been honest with you. We're not meeting Volk and Sofiya tonight."

Confusion clouded her eyes as she searched my face.

"There's something we need to do—something that can't wait. It's the only way we can move forward, start fresh. But before we do that, there's something we need to face."

"What is it?" she whispered, her thumb gently brushing against my hand.

"We need to forgive each other, baby," I muttered, my voice raw with everything we had buried for so long—the pain, the anger, the fucking exhaustion of pretending we were fine.

After two years of hell apart, every day dragging like some twisted eternity, and these past weeks where I nearly lost her for good, the realization slammed into me. Hard. We'd been tiptoeing around our past, letting it rot between us like a ticking time bomb, festering.

Those years apart? They were supposed to heal us, give us a chance to figure out who the hell we were without each other. But all they did was stretch the distance wider. We never fucking dealt with the wounds we carved into each other, never acknowledged the scars that still throbbed.

But these last few weeks, watching her fade in that hospital bed, made me see it clearly. We've been kidding ourselves, letting resentment fester, guilt worm its way into everything. It's like we've been tiptoeing around the edge, afraid to stare down into the abyss because we didn't want to see how deep it really went.

But if we're going to make this work, if there's any shot at a fresh start, we've got to dig into the mess we've been too fucking scared to face.

We've got to forgive each other.

And I don't mean some surface-level crap. I'm talking about the kind of forgiveness that wrecks you, strips you down until there's nothing left but the truth.

"What do you mean?" she whispered, her voice shaking like she already knew where this was going, but terrified to hear it out loud.

I swallowed, my throat burning. "I forgive you, moya solnyshka . For leaving me when everything crumbled. For running away. I forgive you for keeping quiet when you knew—when you had even the slightest inkling who might've taken our son from us." My chest tightened, the pain of those words nearly suffocating me. Our eyes met, and I could see it—the guilt, the regret. "I forgive you for breaking my heart, Caia."

Her breath hitched, and I could feel her start to crumble right there in front of me. But I kept going because this wasn't about making her feel guilty. This was about tearing down the walls we'd both built, brick by fucking brick.

It had to end. All of it. Or we would.

In that instant, I saw something shift—relief, understanding, a glimmer of hope sparking to life in her eyes. She took a deep, shaky breath, and with a fragile smile, found the strength to respond.

"I forgive you, Alexsei," she said, her voice so soft it nearly faded into the night. "I forgive you for forcing me to marry you when I wasn't ready, for not being able to protect Lukyan and me. I know now it wasn't something you could control. I forgive you for letting me go, for not holding on when I ran. And I forgive you, Alexsei, for breaking my heart, too."

The wounds we'd inflicted on each other were still there, but in that moment, we began to heal—not through grand gestures or empty promises, but through the raw honesty of our forgiveness.

"I love you, Caia. I always have, and I always fucking will," I whispered.

She brought my hand to her lips, kissing it gently. "I love you too, Alexsei. I always have, and I always will."

I couldn't hold back any longer. With a desperate, primal need, I grabbed her face, pulling her toward me like she was the only thing that could save me.

Our lips crashed together, hard and frantic, nothing soft about it. This kiss was raw, wild, infused with all the shit we'd been bottling up for years. My hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, fingers gripping like I never wanted to let go.

Every bit of hunger, every ounce of need poured out of me, and I didn't care if it was messy or rough—I just needed her. She clutched at my shoulders, her nails biting into my skin, as if afraid I'd disappear too.

I pulled back just a fraction, our lips barely brushing, feeling the heat of her breath mingling with mine. Our eyes locked—my blue against her green.

"Let's go," I said, my voice rough.

Reluctantly, I let her go and stepped out, holding the door open for her before taking her hand in mine. We made our way to the elevator, the silence thick with tension. I could hear her breath hitching and see the way her cheeks flushed, glistening under the dim lights.

As soon as we stepped inside, I lost my restraint. I slammed the button to close the doors and spun her around, pinning her against the wall with enough force to rattle the metal. My mouth crashed against hers, hungry and desperate, hands gripping her ass, pulling her closer. She responded with equal fervor, fingers tangling in my hair, yanking hard as she bit down on my lip.

Just as I was losing myself in her, the elevator dinged, announcing our arrival. The doors slid open, but I didn't move, still holding her against the wall, breathing hard, eyes locked on hers.

"Alexsei—"

"Just give me a sec," I whispered, pressing my forehead against hers.

I kissed her lips one last time before letting her go, taking her hand and leading us out.

At the end of the hallway, a man in a suit smiled warmly.

Caia greeted him, but I could see her confusion grow. "Alexsei, where are we?"

"You'll see in just a second, baby."

We entered a small ballroom, its floor covered in a long red carpet, flanked by flickering candles casting a soft, romantic glow. At the end of the carpet stood a small altar, a priest waiting with a gentle smile as he held his Bible.

"Oh my god…" Caia gasped, eyes widening in shock.

I stopped and got down on one knee.

Holding her hands in mine, I looked up with all the love and sincerity I could muster. "We need to fix something, love. We need to get married again."

We never signed divorce papers; our separation was just physical, not legal. But I needed this to be the last time we'd ever part. I needed us to take vows this time—real vows, not the bullshit we did before. They had to come from the heart, no pressure, just pure truth.

Her hands flew to her mouth. "That's why you wanted me to wear this white dress."

Earlier, I'd insisted she wear the short, flowy white Chanel dress that perfectly matched my cream Saint Laurent suit and white tie.

I wanted us to be united legally again.

"Will you marry me again, Caia?"

She gasped as she sank to her knees in front of me. "I've been dreaming of you asking me this. I've been waiting for you to say this."

With a radiant smile as she leaned in, pressing her lips to mine in a kiss that was both tender and fierce. As we pulled apart, her eyes glistened, but the look in them was one of pure joy. Without a word, we stood, hands finding each other's as if they'd always belonged there. We hurried toward the altar, footsteps quick and urgent.

The priest's smile widened as he saw us approach. "Let's get you both married," he said, opening his Bible.