Page 38

“Nikolaï,” he interrupted. “Call me by my name.”

I stared at him for a few seconds, feeling like an idiot, before closing my eyes. Get a grip, Selina.

“Fine, Nikolaï,” I said, lifting my chin. “You’re mistaken. We’re not helpless victims who need your protection. As my sister pointed out yesterday, we can take care of ourselves. You have no responsibility toward us.”

He shook his head, stepping into my space. Determined to make my point, I stood my ground, tightening my arms around myself.

“You’re wrong, Selina. The moment I saw those marks on your arms, I should have done something. But I chose to turn away. And this…” His gaze dropped to my broken fingers. “This is the result.”

His eyes lifted to mine, unwavering, “so yes, you are my responsibility. And believe me—I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

I stared at him, speechless, unsure of how to respond, how to push him away, how to change his mind. But did I even want him to change his mind ? The thought of someone standing behind me, ready to protect my son and me after eight long years of watching over my shoulder day and night—it was overwhelming.

Terror seized me again as I realized how easily I was granting him my trust. Nothing guaranteed that one morning, I wouldn’t wake up to find Antonio at the foot of my bed, exchanging abriefcase full of money with Nikolaï in return for handing us over. The image was so disturbing, so impossible, that it made me nauseous. But the truth was, I didn’t know Nikolaï Ivanov. I didn’t know him or his brothers.

I couldn’t let myself be swayed by his words. This wasn’t just about my safety—it was about my sister’s, and most importantly, my son’s.

“No matter what you feel, Nikolaï, once my fingers are healed, we will leave. I will never be able to thank you enough for your help, but…” I stopped when I saw his lips curl into a smile.

“What… why are you smiling ?” I asked, confused.

“I just find it adorable how you try to stand your ground, yet you keep crossing and uncrossing your feet in discomfort.”

We both lowered our gazes at the same time, and I went crimson when I realized he had caught me doing exactly that.

I quickly straightened up, firmly planting my feet on the ground. “Are you making fun of me?” I asked, my mouth slightly open, offended.

He shook his head, still smiling, about to reply when his gaze suddenly shifted behind me.

He moved so fast that I didn’t even have time to react.

In an instant, I found myself pressed against his chest, his left arm wrapped around my waist as he used his other arm to stop a soccer ball hurtling toward us.

“Mom ! Mom !” a voice suddenly cried out just as Nikolaï lowered his arm, though he didn’t release the one still holding me against him. His gaze, filled with concern, locked onto mine, but I could only stare back, unable to say a word.

Andrei and Rafael came running toward us, followed closely by Alexei and Sienna.

“Sorry, Mom, we didn’t mean to !” Andrei sobbed, wrapping himself around my legs, rubbing his face against me.

I knelt down, gently slipping out of Nikolaï’s grasp, and caressed Andrei’s cheek. “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean to,Angelomio,” I reassured him softly.

“So you’re not leaving, right ?” he asked, lifting his teary eyes to mine, and I felt my heart clench at his expression.

“No, I… I’m not leaving because of this,” I said quietly, holding him against me as he hugged me tightly. Not because of this, but I would have to leave eventually.

“Mymammais strong, and she knows how to fight. She even hit the monster. Come on, let’s go play !” my son shouted as he ran off, completely unaware of the weight of his words.

I rose to my feet, my legs trembling, feeling Nikolaï’s presence beside me. He hadn’t moved, but before he could say anything, Alexei hesitantly stepped forward.

“I… actually, it was me who kicked the ball by accident. I… I’m sorry,” he said, lowering his head, his hands clasped behind his back, making me smile.

I ruffled his hair, pushing it back from his forehead as he lifted his eyes—so much like his father’s—toward me.

“It’s okay. You’re very brave,” I told him, and he looked at me, confused.

“Brave ? Why ?” he asked, his eyes lost.

“Because…” I began, kneeling to zip up his jacket, “admitting a mistake and apologizing takes a lot of courage.”