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I swallowed thickly, resting my head against his shoulder and he lifted my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my fingers—the same fingers that had been broken not so long ago.

“And Irina ?” I asked softly, and he shook his head.

“She was already broken when we got married, Selina. We tried to bring her back—I tried—but it was impossible. She was already lost.” His voice was heavy, filled with something deeper than regret.

He took my palm and began tracing slow circles on it, grounding himself in the touch. I let out a small sigh, turning my face into his shoulder, inhaling his scent, needing his warmth as much as he needed mine. He pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead, his nose gliding into my hair.

“The more time passed, the worse it got. She did things—things that nearly tore our family apart. But every time, we forgave her. For Mikhail. For the twins, who were born three years later. And then… then the worst happened,” he said, suddenly standing up, as if just speaking about it made it unbearable to sit still.

The loss of his body heat made me shiver as I watched him walked toward the window, his broad shoulders slightly hunched, his arms hanging at his sides, restless. And I hated seeing him like this—exposed, vulnerable to the ghosts of his past.

“We were at a business dinner,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “My brothers, Elif, and I. As usual, Irina didn’t want to come, so she stayed home. Back then, when I saw how hard it was for her to live with my family, I bought her a small house a few minutes from here. Mikhail was barely three years old. The twins were two months old, Selina. Two months.”

His voice was so low I could barely hear him. He leaned his elbows against the window frame, lowering his head. My lips trembled.

I stood up and walked over to him, gently placing my hand on his back—only to freeze when I felt the cold sweat dampening his skin.

“Nikolai…”

“There was so much screaming, Selina,” he murmured, his breath shaky. “Mikhail crying for his mother, crying for me. The twins wailing. Irina’s screams.”

His body trembled against mine. I knew what it was like to be haunted. To have memories that refused to fade, that held you hostage in the past.

This time, it was my forehead that pressed between his shoulder blades as my arms wrapped around him, holding him tight.

“The smell of gasoline, Selina” his voice was distant, hollow. “It was everywhere. On the floor, the furniture, the walls. On her. And… on the children, Selina. On the children. On Mikhail, who was only three years old. On the twins, still babies.”

My entire body locked up.

Oh my God.

Tears rushed to my eyes too fast for me to stop them.

“When I walked into the living room, she was standing in the middle of the room… with a lighter, Selina. She was going to burn it all down.”

A broken gasp escaped me.

“I told her I would give her anything she wanted, that I would do anything. But she wasn’t even listening, Selina. She was going to burn them alive. My sons, Selina. I had no choice.”

A sob built in my throat, threatening to choke me.

“She was about to light it. The lighter—she was about to flick it and set everything on fire. So I… I shot her” his breath hitched.

“A bullet straight to the heart. The mother of my children.”

“Oh, Nikolai.”

Tears spilled down my face as I slipped under his arm, positioning myself in front of him. I cupped his face, my thumbs brushing against his cheeks.

Tears gathered in his gaze, shimmering, threatening to fall.

“Nikolai…”

“The boys found out I killed their mother a year ago,” he said, his voice raw. “I’m sure it was Agata who told them. I bet she enjoyed every second of it.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. And if I could get my hands on Agata right now, I would make her pay for what she did to Nikolai, to Nina, and to Irina.

Yes, Irina, too.