Chapter 28

I wake up to the familiar warmth of Kiki curled up beside me, her gentle purring a soothing contrast to the tornado swirling in my mind as soon as my eyes open. I stretch, feeling the pleasant soreness in my muscles, a physical reminder of last night’s passion. Glancing around, I notice the other side of the bed is empty, the sheets cool to the touch. Ivan’s not there.

Curiosity piques as I get up and move to the window of our cozy second-floor room. Peering out, I see that our car is missing, replaced by a different one, sleek and unfamiliar. A frown creases my forehead. Where did he go without telling me?

Shaking off the unease, I quickly dress, opting for comfort in a pair of jeans and a soft sweater. After a quick brush of my teeth and a hasty ponytail to tame my unruly hair, I’m ready to face the day, or at least try to.

Heading downstairs, the cabin feels larger, emptier without Ivan’s presence. It’s a beautiful place, rustic yet elegant, with large windows that flood the space with late morning light. But right now it feels more like a gilded cage, a luxurious confinement amidst the looming threat outside.

I tiptoe into the kitchen, my eyes fixed on a man rummaging through the fridge. He’s got the same build as Ivan, so it’s easy to assume it’s him. Feeling playful, I sneak up behind him, a mischievous grin on my face. In one swift move, I reach out and goose him, erupting into giggles.

But as the man whirls around, my laughter dies in my throat. It’s not Ivan. Instead, I’m met with the surprised face of Fyodor. I let out an embarrassed squeak, stepping back as my cheeks flush a deep shade of red.

‘Oh my God, I’m sorry! I thought you were—’ I stammer, but my apology is cut off as Ivan strides into the kitchen.

‘What’s going on here?’ Ivan asks, his eyebrow raised in amusement.

Fyodor, still chuckling, looks between me and Ivan. ‘Well, your wife here just gave me quite the welcome.’

I can feel my face burning with embarrassment. ‘I’m so sorry, Fyodor. I really thought you were Ivan,’ I say, wishing the floor would swallow me whole.

Fyodor winks at me, clearly not offended. ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s the most action I’ve had in weeks.’

I let out a relieved laugh, feeling a bit more at ease. ‘I’ll make sure to double-check next time before I decide to get frisky,’ I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Ivan wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me close. ‘I think I’ll have to keep a closer eye on you, Mrs. Stepanov. Can’t have you assaulting my family members.’

I lean into Ivan, still feeling a bit flustered but grateful for his good-natured teasing.

Fyodor stands there, his resemblance to Ivan striking yet distinct. He’s leaner, his features less rugged, but there’s no denying the family connection. His eyes have the same intensity, but there’s a lightness to him that Ivan sometimes lacks.

‘Why are you here, Fyodor?’ I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

Ivan answers, his tone serious. ‘He’s here for extra protection, Julie.’

We sit down at the kitchen table, a sense of urgency hanging in the air. Ivan and Fyodor start discussing the situation with Boris and the Bratva, brainstorming ideas and strategies. I listen, trying to keep up, but the weight of the conversation presses down on me. The reality of what we’re up against, the danger lurking just beyond our peaceful getaway, is overwhelming.

As they talk, my mind drifts to our baby. This unborn child is the reason I have to be strong, to face this head-on. But the thought of bringing him or her into a world where threats like Boris exist makes my heart clench with fear.

‘Ivan,’ I interrupt, my voice laced with concern. ‘What if this doesn’t work? What if Boris doesn’t back down?’

Ivan’s expression softens as he turns to me. ‘Julie, I won’t let anything happen to you. Whatever it takes, I’ll protect you.’

Fyodor adds, ‘And I’m here too. You’re not in this alone.’

“For now, however,” Ivan says, “I would like to keep the details between my brother and me.”

“What?” The word shoots out of my mouth. “As in, without me in the loop?”

Ivan takes a breath, closing his eyes. I can sense he’s choosing his next words very carefully.

“You’re not going to be out of the loop,” he says.

“Sure as hell feels like that from where I’m sitting.” I cross my arms, feeling a mix of frustration and worry. ‘I want to help, Ivan,’ I argue, trying to mask the anxiety creeping into my voice. I hate feeling sidelined, especially in a situation that’s spiraling so dangerously close to us.

Ivan approaches me, his hand gently cradling my face. His touch is always reassuring, but right now, it feels like a barrier keeping me from the action. ‘Julie, I know you do, but this is something Fyodor and I need to handle,’ he says, his eyes searching mine for understanding. “We have unique skills, for lack of a better way of putting it.”

Fyodor chimes in, ‘He’s right, Julie. Dealing with the Bratva, it’s a different ballgame altogether.’

I can’t help but feel a little dismissed, even though I know they’re just trying to protect me. ‘I’m not just some damsel in distress, Ivan. I can handle myself,’ I say, a bit more sharply than I intend.

Ivan’s gaze doesn’t waver. He’s always so damn composed. ‘I know you can. And that’s not what this is about. It’s about keeping you safe,’ he adds, his voice softening. ‘You’ll be informed of every step, every decision. I promise,’ he reassures me.

Fyodor adds, ‘Besides, you have your own important work to do, right? Starting your non-profit. Ivan told me all about it.”

I let out a sigh, feeling the fight drain out of me. They’re right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow. ‘Alright, I’ll focus on my project. But Ivan,’ I say, locking eyes with him, ‘you better keep your promise. No secrets, okay?’

His answer is a gentle kiss on my forehead, a gesture that always manages to soothe me. ‘No secrets,’ he says softly.

I head upstairs to get started on the non-profit. Once in the cozy room I’ve decided will be my office, I settle at the small desk by the window, my laptop open in front of me. The view outside is serene and calming. Starting a non-profit isn’t easy. There’s the business plan to refine, permits to obtain, paperwork to file, and a million other details. I take a deep breath, trying to channel my energy into something positive, something that can make a difference.

I’m about to dive into my work when I notice a missed call and message from Barb. She says that Calvin wants to meet, to talk and maybe have lunch. A wave of emotions flood through me—anger, curiosity, annoyance, as well as a strange sense of longing for a connection I’ve never had. I stare at the screen, unsure of how to respond.

For a long moment I just sit there, lost in thought. This is the man responsible for so much pain in my life, yet he’s also a part of me in a way I can’t deny. I tell her to give him my number along with a stern warning not to overuse it, and that I need time to process everything, to make a decision of whether or not I want to see him. This is something I need to discuss with Ivan first, to get his take on it. With everything else going on, the last thing I need is to navigate the complexities of a relationship with an absent father I’ve hated for most of my life.

I push the phone aside and turn my attention back to my laptop. The business plan for my non-profit stares back at me, a reminder of the future I’m trying to build. It’s a future that’s suddenly filled with more unknowns than ever—a husband with a dangerous past, a father seeking redemption, and a little life growing inside me.

As I delve into my work, the plans and projections, the mission statement and goals, I find a sense of purpose. This is more than just a project; it’s a part of who I am, a way to make a difference in a world that seems increasingly chaotic. It’s a chance to create something good, something lasting, amidst the uncertainty of our current situation.

Hours pass, the afternoon light shifting across the room as I work. The cabin is quiet, the only sounds the occasional murmur of voices from downstairs and the soft tapping of my keyboard. I’m deep in concentration, mapping out the steps to bring my vision to life.

By the time evening approaches, I’ve made significant progress. The skeleton of my business plan is more fleshed out, the path ahead clearer. But my mind keeps drifting back to Calvin, to Boris, and to the possible dangers we may be facing ahead.

I close my laptop for a break, taking a moment to look out the window, the trees swaying gently in the evening breeze. There’s a sense of calm here, a tranquility that belies the storm we’re navigating. I know that when I go downstairs, I’ll have to face the reality of our situation again. But for now, in this moment, there’s peace.

I stand, stretching my arms above my head, feeling the tension of the day melt away. Kiki, ever the faithful companion, purrs softly at my feet, a comforting presence. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the conversation ahead with Ivan.

We have a lot to discuss.