Page 80 of All The Darkest Truths (Second Sons Duet #2)

VESPER

I hum softly as I pace the moonlit corridor, Matteo's tiny body warm against my chest, his wispy hair tickling my chin. The Winter Palace feels different tonight—less like a prison and more like a sanctuary, though I know better than to trust such feelings.

“Is he finally asleep?” Alex's voice, quiet but unmistakable, comes from behind me.

I turn, careful not to disturb Matteo. Alex stands at the end of the hallway. The moonlight streaming through the tall windows turns his platinum hair almost ethereal, like fresh snow under starlight.

“Just now.” I continue my slow pacing. “He fought it for two hours.”

Alex moves closer, his footsteps silent despite his size.

Nothing about Alexander Rafner is accidental.

"He has your stubbornness." Alex stops beside me, looking down at Matteo's sleeping face.

There's something in his expression, something gentle that few people would believe possible from the son of the Butcher of Selfoss.

Becoming an instant mother hadn’t come with an instruction booklet.

Every day was a scramble of figuring out how to soothe, how to feed, how to keep Matteo calm.

Some moments I felt like I was barely holding it together.

But Talon…Talon seemed to have a gift. Somehow, he could lull Matteo to sleep with ease, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Oz and Zaire on the other hand…are a work in progress.

“I prefer to call it determination.” I sway gently to maintain the rhythm that's finally lulled Matteo to sleep.

Alex’s lips twitch, almost forming a smile. “Determination, then.”

His large hand hovers near Matteo's head, hesitant, as if seeking permission. The juxtaposition is jarring. These same hands that I've seen rip flesh apart without flinching now ghost over my son's head with the delicacy of butterfly wings.

"You're good with him," I observe quietly.

Alex's icy blue eyes meet mine, something vulnerable flickering in their depths before disappearing behind his usual guarded expression. "Children deserve gentleness."

"Would you like to hold him?"

Alex stiffens. "I don't think?—"

"He won't break," I assure him, already shifting Matteo carefully toward his chest. "And neither will you."

For a moment, I think he might refuse, but then his arms, capable of such violence, form a cradle. I transfer Matteo's sleeping form into them, our bodies momentarily close as we make the exchange. Matteo settles against him, tiny fingers curling reflexively against the soft fabric of his shirt.

“Support his head.” I guide Alex's large hand into position with a light touch.

Alex stands still, as if afraid the slightest movement might shatter this moment, or worse, harm the precious bundle in his arms. But Matteo only sighs in his sleep, nestling closer to the warmth of Alex's chest.

“He trusts you.”

“He shouldn't," Alex responds, “No one should.”

I study his face—the sharp angles softened by the silvery light, the weariness settled in the tension around his mouth. “Trust isn’t rational, Alex. It’s instinctive.” I pause, weighing my next words. “Matteo feels safe with you. Children sense things adults have forgotten how to recognize.”

Alex’s focus stays on Matteo, but there’s a subtle shift in his features, something almost imperceptible loosening.

“Or he simply doesn’t know better yet,” he says, though the bite in his voice is absent.

I watch as he begins to sway gently, falling into the rhythm I’d used earlier. It’s effortless, instinctual—the kind of motion that transcends logic, the one even the most broken seem to understand. Even the son of a monster.

“How’s Luca?” I ask, leaning against the window frame. “Really.”

Alex finally looks at me, his motion steady, Matteo nestled securely in his arms. A shadow flickers across his face, one I know too well.

“He has nightmares,” he says after a pause. “Wakes up screaming. Thinks he’s back in the facility. That they are…” His words catch, and he swallows them down.

It slices through me like glass. I’d seen the signs.

exhaustion clinging to him, the way he tenses at sharp sounds, but hearing it out loud makes my chest ache.

He’s closed himself off, locked that trauma behind walls so thick not even I can reach him.

And I should be able to. I survived the same hell.

I’m one of the few who understands. But he’s buried it deep, sealed it tight.

“He tries to hide it from you,” Alex continues, shifting Matteo slightly as the baby stirs. “Doesn't want to worry you when you have enough to handle.”

“And you know this because...?” I let the question hang between us.

“My room is next to his. I hear him through the walls.”

“And you go to him,” I realize, the pieces fitting together. The way Luca seems calmer around Alex, the subtle looks they exchange when they think no one is watching. They’d only been free a few days, but I noticed it right away.”

“Sometimes,” Alex admits. “When it's bad enough.”

I remember the first time he touched me, how his massive hands hovered above my skin as if I were made of spun glass. Even now, with all we've been through, there's always that moment of hesitation in his movements around me.

“You've always been so careful with me. From the beginning. Like you might accidentally crush me if you weren't vigilant.”

His throat works as he swallows. “I could.”

“But you didn’t,” I counter softly. “That's the difference between you and the monsters who raised us.”

Matteo stirs between us, tiny fists stretching before settling again. The moment hangs suspended, fragile and charged with possibility.

“I should take him back to his crib.” Though I make no move to reclaim my son from Alex's arms.

“Not yet. Let me hold him a little longer.”

I nod, my throat tight with unexpected emotion.

We stand together in the moonlight, three broken people forming something that feels close to whole. Alex's free hand rises slowly, hesitating before gently brushing a strand of hair from my face. His touch is feather-light, reverent.

“You've changed everything,” he confesses. “For all of us.”

I lean into his touch, allowing myself this moment of vulnerability. “We've changed each other.”

His fingers linger at my temple, tracing a delicate path down my cheek.

The gentleness in his touch belies the strength I know lies beneath.

There's something different about Alex, a quieter intensity compared to Z's volatility or Oscar's calculated passion.

Where they burn hot, Alex runs deep, like ice that can still sear the skin.

“The others,” he begins, “they fit naturally into your world. I'm still…”

“An outsider?” I finish for him. “You're not. As much as we’ve tried, Alex, I’ve realized something over the last few days. Things work out for a reason. We didn’t, and that’s okay, because I’m not that person for you. But, I think we both know who is that person.”

Alex's breath catches. “I don't know what you mean.”

“I think you do.” I keep my voice gentle, watching his reaction carefully. “The way you look at him when you think no one's watching. How you're always the first one there when the nightmares come...”

His jaw tightens, the muscles working beneath his skin. “He needs protection. After what he's been through.”

“We've all been through hell, Alex.” I reach up, my hand settling against his cheek, forcing him to meet my eyes. “But the way you are with Luca...it's different.”

Silence stretches between us, fragile and charged. Matteo sighs in his sleep, oblivious to the tension surrounding him.

“He’s going to need you when the time comes.” I watch Alex closely, noting the way his jaw tightens.

“When the time comes for what?”

“When we go back to Boston.”

I notice his fingers tighten gently around Matteo. “Aren’t we all going back together?”

“I’ve asked Luca to run Russia as my proxy until Matteo comes of age. I can’t be in two places at once, and I know my brother will keep Matteo’s legacy safe until he’s ready. I think you should stay here with him.”

His fingers twitch at Matteo’s blanket, betraying the conflict inside him. For a moment, I worry I’ve crossed a line, pushed too far into something neither of us is ready to admit.

“You’ve thought this through.”

“I’ve had nothing but time to think with this little one keeping me up at night.” I watch Alex settle Matteo more securely in his arms. “The truth is that the Petrov empire won’t run itself, and someone needs to stay behind to make sure the transition goes smoothly. Someone I trust completely.”

“And you trust Luca with this?”

“I trust both of you with this,” I correct him. “Luca understands the business side, the politics of it all. But he needs…” I hesitate, searching for the right words. “He needs someone who understands what he's been through.”

“Like you have with Zaire and Oscar,” Alex observes quietly.

I nod, surprised by his perception. “They balance each other. Balance me.”

“And Talon?”

“Talon is...Talon is my constant. My shield when I need protection, my sword when I need strength. He is the voice of reason.”

Alex nods, a flicker of understanding passing across his features. “The four of you, then. A family.”

“Yes.” The word feels both simple and profound on my lips. “But that doesn't mean you and Luca aren't part of it too. Family isn't just blood or proximity, Alex. It's a choice. We've all chosen each other in different ways.”

Matteo stirs in Alex's arms, his tiny face scrunching before relaxing again. Alex adjusts his hold with surprising expertise, tucking the blanket more securely around my son.

“Are you sure this is what he wants? He’s been away from you for years, Vesper. Family is what he needs right now.”

“He's already agreed. I asked him yesterday. He said he would do it for me, for Matteo. For our family's legacy. But, I think, a part of him knows going back to Boston, to our family home, will not be easy.”

“He didn't mention it.”

“Perhaps he was waiting for the right moment.” I rest my hand on Alex’s forearm. “Or perhaps he was waiting to see if you would stay with him.”

A muscle works in Alex's jaw as he processes my words.

“I will always love you, Alex, but you deserve to find what you’re looking for, too.”

"What if I don't know what I'm looking for?"

"I think you do." I reach out, my fingers brushing his arm. "Sometimes we find things we never knew we needed until they're right in front of us."

Alex shifts Matteo in his arms, the movement so natural it seems he's been holding babies his entire life rather than mere minutes. “Your brother deserves better than me to protect him, Vesper.”

“My brother deserves someone who understands him. Someone who doesn't flinch from the darkness because they've walked through it themselves. Someone who comes when the nightmares are at their worst. Someone who can build him up again when he finally shatters.”

Emotion flickers across Alex's face—doubt, longing, fear.

“What if I'm too broken to be anything but a shadow at his side?”

“We're all broken, Alex. That's how the light gets in.” I smile softly.

Matteo stirs against Alex's chest, his peaceful expression crumpling as his mouth forms a 'o' of displeasure. A soft whimper escapes his lips, quickly building toward something more insistent.

“I think our moment of peace is over,” I reach for my son as his whimpers turn to tiny protests. Alex transfers him to my arms with that same careful precision.

Matteo's cries grow more determined as I settle him against me, his little face flushing with the effort of making his needs known.

“I think someone might be hungry.” I adjust him against my shoulder and pat his back soothingly.

I turn toward the nursery, but pause, looking back at Alex, who stands illuminated in the moonlight, suddenly looking uncertain without Matteo in his arms.

“Alex, thank you. For everything.”

He nods, that almost-smile touching his lips again.

I hesitate, watching him for a moment longer. “Will you think about what I said? About staying with Luca?”

Alex's expression grows distant, thoughtful. “I will.”

“Good,” I reply, meaning it. “Because he needs you. More than either of you realize.”