Chapter 39 Luka falls asleep halfway through our second movie. I should have put him to bed hours ago, but after our conversation about dead fathers, bedtime seemed less important than letting him feel safe. Now, he's sprawled across the sofa bed like a starfish, one arm flung over his eyes, mouth slightly open. I'm left to sit and stare at the flickering blue light of the projector, thinking about everything and nothing at once. Eventually, I can't brood any longer. I'm gathering our empty popcorn bowls when I hear the key in the lock. My hands freeze around the ceramic. My pulse kicks up like I've been caught doing something I shouldn't. Which is ridiculous. This is my apartment. These are my dishes. I have every right to clean up after movie night with an eight-year-old. But my body doesn't seem to care about logic. Nervous heat crawls up my neck as footsteps move across the living room toward the kitchen. Then: "That's quite the setup in there." His voice cuts through me, all dark honey and smoke. I keep my back to him, focusing on rinsing butter from the bowls. "We built a pillow fort. It was supposed to be cozy." "And was it?" "The roof kept collapsing on us." I force my voice to stay light. "But Luka thought that was hilarious." I set the bowls in the drying rack and turn around. Kovan is leaning against the opposite counter, arms crossed, watching me with those unreadable green eyes. There's only one thought running through my head now. I missed him. I wish I didn't. That changes nothing, though. Despite three days of working double shifts to avoid him, the second he walks through my door, I'm right back to wanting things I can't have. "It's late," I say, already moving toward the doorway. "I should get to bed⁠-" His hand wraps around my wrist as I try to pass. "Stay." It's not quite a question, not quite a command. "Why?" "Among other things, I owe you an explanation. About what happened with Yana." I pull my wrist free but don't move away. "Okay." He's quiet for a long moment. That piercing, unblinking hold feels like a vise grip. It's as though he's still holding me, even though his hands are in his pockets. "I watch you with Luka," he finally says. "The way you are together. It scares me." "Because I'm getting attached?" "Because he is." Kovan's jaw tightens. "You're replacing Yana in his mind. And when this is over-when you leave-he'll lose another mother." Mother. Is that what I've become to him? "I get that, Kovan. But what am I supposed to do?" I ask. "Push him away when he needs comfort? Be cold when he's hurting?" "No." "Then what's your solution?" His silence is answer enough. "You can't have it both ways," I say. "You want me to play happy family for the custody judge, but you don't want us to actually feel like a family. That's not how it works." "I know. I've put you in an impossible position." "Oh, have you now?" I snip sarcastically. I cross my arms, suddenly exhausted. "Because it feels like you've just figured that out, when everyone else has known it from the beginning." Something flickers across his face. Regret, maybe. "I apologized to Luka." "Yeah? Consider apologizing to anyone else?" His mouth curves into something that's not quite a smile. "That's not really my thing." "No kidding." I lean back against the counter, putting more distance between us. "Let me guess-you care about your family, your business, and your organization. In that order. Everyone else can go to hell." "That's right." I knew what he was going to say and it still hurts when he says it. But at least I know for sure, in undeniable black and white, where I stand now. Firmly outside his circle. There's me, there's Luka, and then there's the people who work for us. You, Vesper Fairfax, are the latter. You, Vesper Fairfax, do not matter. "Understood." My chest feels hollow. "But I need you to know something. I'm not a chess piece you can move around when it suits you. I'm not some hapless employee you can snap at when you're having a bad day. I'm a person, and I deserve basic respect." He nods once. "You're right about that, too." That's it. No real apology. No acknowledgment of how his words cut me down. Just a simple nod, like I've pointed out that the sky is blue. I suppose that's all I can expect from someone like Kovan Krayev. "Can I ask you something?" I say. "Something inappropriate?" His eyebrows lift. "Those are my favorite kind of questions." "You told me once that Ihor had loyalists who would protect him if you tried to take him out of the picture. But why haven't you killed Yana?" The question hangs in the air between us. For a second, I think I've gone too far. "That's some question," he says finally. "Am I wrong about what you do? About who you are?" "No. You're not wrong." "So killing her was an option?" "I thought about it sometimes." His voice is matter-of-fact, like we're discussing the weather. "But Luka would never forgive me if he found out. And even if he never did, Ihor would use it against me. He'd point the FBI in my direction, and that would put Luka at risk." I nod sadly. "I get that." "It took me a long time to get Luka out of his shell, Vesper," Kovan continues. His face goes dark. "He didn't speak for weeks. He stopped eating. I took him to half a dozen therapists, but none of them could get through to him. There was a point where I thought..." He stops, swallows hard. "I was afraid he might hurt himself." Horrified ice flows through my veins. The image of Luka-bright, funny, sweet Luka-wanting to do damage to his own precious body makes me feel sick. The thought of Kovan bearing that weight alone is almost as agonizing. "Where was Yana during all this?" "Gone." The single word is laced with disgust. "Right after we buried my brother, she disappeared for a month. When she came back, she was married to Ihor." "Jesus." "He's my father's age. He was loyal to him in a way he'll never be to me, and ruthless in ways I'll never be myself. And completely without honor. He resents having to follow my orders. Always has, always will." "But you can't touch him," I guess. "Not without consequences I'm not willing to pay." We stand there in silence. This isn't just about custody battles or fake relationships or hospital corruption. Maybe it was once about those things, those huge-scale wars, but now, it's condensed into something smaller and all the more tragic. This is about a little boy who's already lost everything and the man who's trying to save him. And me, wondering where the hell I fit in. "Luka's lucky to have you," I say quietly. It takes a moment for Kovan to react. When he does, he blinks, clearing away a distant haze from his eyes. "He's lucky to have you, too." The moment stretches too long, becomes too charged. I clear my throat. "Well, I'm glad we talked, I guess. We should probably get some sleep." He nods, but neither of us moves. A clock ticks. The sink drips. Outside, cars groan as they whisk away down the street. Finally, I force myself to step past him toward the bedroom. We brush, skin-to-skin, heat-to-heat, breath-to-breath. I'll wonder if he'll stop me again and what will happen if he does. He doesn't. But I feel his eyes on me as I walk away. When I come out of the bathroom after brushing my teeth, he's there. I slip under the covers and turn to look at him. His back is to me, shoulders broad and bare in the dim light. It's so easy-all too easy-to look at that bulk and wonder things. What would it be like to belong to him? Really belong, not just pretend? To be someone he'd fight for, someone he'd choose? The longing hits me so hard I have to bite my lip to keep from making a sound. But wanting something doesn't make it possible. Kovan's world is violence and danger and a circle made of two. I'm just a temporary solution to a temporary problem. I need to remember that. I need to focus on my own goals-saving my job, helping my patients, getting my life back on track. Love isn't part of this equation. And even if it was, I made Waylen a promise. I will not fall for Kovan Krayev. I close my eyes and try to forget how right it feels to have him in my bed. Try to ignore the way his presence makes me feel safer and more restless all at once. But sleep doesn't come easily when your heart wants something your head knows it can never have.