Page 74

Nikolai

I watched Selina’s beautiful silhouette disappear into Mikhail’s room, dressed in cotton pajama bottoms with smiling suns printed on them and a matching T-shirt. I couldn’t help but smile even more, remembering her smile and the way she had helped me with my sons.

When she pulled her hand away from mine, I had felt incapable of continuing—of facing my sons, of facing my past. I didn’t even know why, to be honest. But with her hand on my back, I had been ready to take on the entire world if necessary.

“Wow, you even got the bonus question right, and everything is correct !” Selina’s voice echoed from inside the room, and I couldn’t help but move closer, sneaking a glance inside.

Mikhail had given up his desk chair for Selina and pulled up a stool to sit next to her in front of the cluttered desk, covered in books. “It wasn’t that hard,” my son mumbled, but I could clearly see his cheeks turning red.

Selina ruffled his hair with a laugh. “You’re way too young to be humble, Mika. Enjoy your youth—this is the time to brag a little.”

Mikhail looked at her with wide eyes, like he was watching fireworks, and I completely understood why.

That sight, along with the moment I had shared with Andrei and Alexei earlier, only confirmed my decision—a decision that would change all our lives.

“Maybe your father could take a look too? What do you think?” Selina suggested, and I froze, realizing she was talking about me. I barely stopped myself from grimacing when I saw both of them looking at me now. Damn it.

I cleared my throat, stepped inside, and moved toward the desk, stopping behind Mikhail’s chair. He watched me without revealing what he was feeling. I leaned over his shoulder to look at his work.

“This is really good, Mikhail. You’ve improved a lot. I’m proud of you, my son,” I said, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, meaning every word.

He looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite decipher, one I hadn’t seen in over a year.

He nodded, quickly averting his gaze back to his work, and I glanced down at Selina, who gave me a thumbs-up with a bright smile.

And for a moment, time stopped, shrinking down to just her and that smile.

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart,” Selina said, closing Mikhail’s door before joining me near the stairs. She hummed softly, rocking on her feet with her hands clasped behind her back.

“So? What do we need to talk about?” she asked as she reached me.

“Let’s go to my office,” I said, taking her hand and leading her up to the third floor, where the offices and armory were located.

The lower floors were divided into two wings: east and west. The east wing of the first floor belonged to Sasha and his future family, while the west was Roman’s. The second floor’s east wing was reserved for Grigori’s family, and the west was mine. The guest rooms were on the ground floor.

No matter how much we loved each other as a big family, sometimes we needed space to be alone with those closest to us.

I opened my office door and let her step in first. She paused, taking in every corner of the room with wide eyes.

“All the rooms are so different from one another,” she remarked as I closed the door behind us.

I watched her move through the dimly lit room, the only light coming from the lamp I had left on earlier when I went downstairs for dinner. To our surprise, Sienna had cooked—and it had been delicious, especially with Elif’s dessert.

Selina stopped in front of my bookshelf, running her fingers along the spines.

“Believe me, Elif has left her mark in every single room. She’s put her touch on each one,” I said, joining her as she pulled out a book on financial strategies in the medical sector.

She laughed while flipping through the pages, stopping at a few handwritten notes I had made. “That doesn’t surprise me at all,” she said, replacing the book and turning to face me.

Her large green eyes settled on mine, waiting for me to speak—and I couldn’t.

Not when she looked at me like that. Not when she had that soft smile lighting up her face.

“I can’t let you go, Selina.”

The words escaped before I even thought them. An instinct to keep her close—I had to.

Her cheerful expression faded into confusion, and I hated the shift.