Page 19

I guide Sofia through the shadows of Lara and Dima's expansive estate, my movements swift and precise. My hand rests lightly on the small of her back as we slip between hedgerows and statuary, trying to stay undiscovered by the guards.

The last thing I need right now is a confrontation with Dima. I just need to speak to my wife in private, without any interference.

Sofia walks beside me, not bothering to look in my direction. Just then, up ahead, we see a flashlight. Night patrol.

“Fuck,” I whisper, grabbing her by the waist and pushing her against the wall, concealing her with my body. I duck my head low, hoping my black jacket and dark hair will camouflage with the shadows.

We stand like that, pressed against one another, and I’m aware of every point of contact. Sofia’s eyes are wide as she looks behind me at the lights, but from how her chest heaves and cheeks flush, I know she feels the same thrumming in her heart that I do.

“It’s clear,” she says, a little while later, but a little too soon. A pang of disappointment passes me as I release her from where she’s caged between my body and the wall.

We continue walking. Sofia's tension is palpable, her slim frame rigid under my touch.

"Easy," I murmur, barely audible. "We're almost there."

Her green eyes flash with annoyance, but she remains silent as I guide her along the gravel path. The crunch of stones under our feet seems deafening in the still night air. I scan constantly for any sign of movement from the house.

At last, we reach a small, unmanned gate. “Through here,” I say, placing my hand on her lower back and ushering her through.

Finally, we reach my waiting car. I open the passenger door for Sofia, who slides in with feline grace. As soon as I slip behind the wheel, she turns to me, her eyes furious.

She waves her hands and, to my shock, begins to yell at me. “I can’t believe you woke me up in the middle of the night in the manner you did! Seriously, Vlad? You crept up on me like a serial killer. Was the hand around my mouth really necessary? All you needed was a knife to make a point. Unbelievable! After lying to me, you kidnap me? Congratulations on your successful kidnapping, Vlad. I'm sure the Bratva will be thrilled!”

It takes every ounce of self-control I have to keep my voice steady and point out the obvious without laughing. "This isn't a kidnapping, Sofia. You agreed to come with me."

However, in my mind, I also know how difficult the past few days have been. More than once, I have thought to come over and put an end to this maddening distance, to bring her back home. And honestly? If she hadn’t come willingly tonight, I might have just considered kidnapping her.

As I sit beside her, my mind races with possibilities. I'm acutely aware that this could all go horribly wrong. If Sofia truly wanted to leave, I'd let her go—I'm not a monster. But the thought of her slipping away again, of losing this chance to make things right, fills me with a desperation I've never known before.

But still, I don’t want her to feel caged. I want her to know she always has options when it comes to us. “You know, I had to do it this way. I was afraid Dima would try to kill me after everything, so I couldn’t exactly walk in through the door as though nothing happened.”

A tense silence fills the car. Sofia mumbles something under her breath, her words barely audible over the hum of the engine.

"What was that?" I ask, curiosity piqued.

She turns her head, pinning me with those piercing green eyes. "I said, Dima doesn't even know I'm gone. He has no idea about any of this."

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "You didn't tell him?"

Sofia's lips curl into a smirk. "Contrary to what you might believe, Vlad, I don't need to go crying to my brother at the first hint of trouble."

I can't help but feel a surge of admiration for her ability to keep things between us, even though the differences between us are glaringly evident to everyone around. "That's… unexpected."

She shrugs, a gesture so nonchalant it belies the gravity of our situation. "I've learned to keep my cards close to my chest. It's served me well so far."

I nod, processing this new information. "Fair enough. But we're not out of the woods yet. Buckle up, Sofia. We've got a long drive ahead of us."

As I say this, I reach across her to grab her seatbelt, my hand brushing against her arm. The contact sends a jolt through me, and I can't help but linger for a moment. Sofia tenses but doesn't pull away.

"I can manage my own seatbelt, thank you," she says, her voice icy but with an undercurrent I can't quite place. Desire? Yearning? Sorrow?

As I put the car in drive, Sofia turns to me, her expression unreadable in the dim light. "And where exactly are you taking me, oh great kidnapper?"

"Somewhere safe," I answer, focused on the road ahead. "Somewhere we can talk without interruption."

"How romantic," she mutters, her voice laced with sarcasm. But beneath the ice, I detect a hint of curiosity. It's enough to give me hope that maybe, just maybe, I haven't completely lost her yet.

Now, the car drives through winding roads. The whole time, my palms are sweaty on the steering wheel, and I can feel my heart racing. It's not just the unfortunate circumstances of our situation—it's her proximity, the scent of her perfume filling the car, the memory of how it felt to hold her.

***

I guide the car smoothly onto the private airstrip, the headlights illuminating a sleek Gulfstream G650 waiting on the tarmac. My heart quickens at the sight. Everything is falling into place, just as I've meticulously planned.

"A private jet?" Sofia's voice breaks the silence, a hint of surprise in her voice.

I nod, pulling up beside the plane. "I wanted tonight to … mean something.”

Sofia says nothing.

As we exit the car, I notice Sofia's eyes darting around, taking in every detail. Her analytical mind is always working, even now. I lead her toward the aircraft, my hand hovering near the small of her back, not quite touching.

"After you," I gesture to the steps.

Inside, I watch Sofia's reaction carefully as she takes in the cabin. I've arranged everything perfectly—a table set for an intimate dinner, crystal glasses catching the soft lighting. To the side, carefully wrapped packages await her attention.

"What's all this?" Sofia asks, her tone guarded but curious.

I move past her, picking up a small velvet box. "I thought you might like some comforts for the journey. This one's special."

I open it to reveal a delicate emerald necklace I chose specifically to match her striking green eyes. "I remembered how much you admired it in that little shop."

Sofia's gaze flickers between the necklace and my face, her expression unreadable. I can see the wheels turning in her mind, weighing my gesture against her distrust.

To help her ease into it, I pour her some champagne—she takes a sip, thank god—before handing her another box.

She opens it, her eyes reflecting the diamonds within, strung on a tennis necklace. A carat apiece, thirty-six pointer. She looks up at me inquiringly.

“It reminds me of ice,” I smile down at her. “A little bit like you, until one gets to know you.”

And then, I reach out and unwrap the largest box, pulling out the softest fur coat. I lean over while she stands there, frozen like a deer in the headlights, and place it around her shoulders. “This coat reminded me of the real you. Not the ice, not the cold. It’s soft and cozy, warm like your soul.”

Silence stretches on before us, my heart hammering in my chest. She looks unimpressed, and I’m beginning to fear this might have been overkill. But still, a voice in my head fights back for me. I did the best I could. She deserves the best I could.

Sofia's eyes narrow, cutting through the carefully crafted atmosphere I've created.

"Is this what you think I want? Pretty trinkets and expensive dinners?" She gestures around the opulent cabin with a sharp wave of her hand. "You can't buy your way back into my good graces, Vlad."

I feel my chest tighten at her words, the sting of rejection hitting harder than I'd anticipated. "Sofia, that's not—"

"Not what?" she interrupts, her voice dripping with icy sarcasm. "Not an attempt to manipulate me? To make me forget everything that's happened?"

I step back from her, my hands suddenly feeling empty and useless. "I just wanted to show you that I care," I say, hating how vulnerable I sound.

Sofia's laugh is bitter, cutting through me like a knife. "Care? You have a funny way of showing it, considering how you haven’t called once since I left. You were too busy then to explain, and I’m sorry if I can’t forgive you according to your schedule!"

I run a hand through my hair, frustration and fear warring inside me. The thought of losing her for good makes my stomach churn. If I don’t get this right, it could be the end.

So, with everything I have, I cast aside all my fears, my doubts, and my pretenses, and lay out the desperate truth—no matter how pathetic it might seem.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I'm about to say. "The truth is, I didn't contact you after you left because I was ashamed," I confess, my voice barely above a whisper. "I knew I fucked up and wanted to prove myself worthy of you first. To show you that you and your dreams and your hopes and your entire existence are anything but a game to me."

Sofia's eyebrows raise slightly, a crack in the walls she has up. "Worthy? You're Vladimir Zolotov. Since when do you need to prove yourself to anyone?"

I lean forward, my elbows on my knees, hands clasped tightly. "Since I realized how terribly I hurt you. How much I'd taken for granted." My eyes never leave hers as I continue, "I couldn't bear to approach you half-heartedly. I needed to be sure I put in all the effort I could. I wanted this…” I motion at the plane, “…to be perfect.”

I watch as Sofia processes my words, her green eyes flickering with conflicting emotions. Her fingers twitch in front of her as she holds her hands together, as if she's fighting the urge to reach out.

I continue, needing to express my feelings. "I don't know who I am without you, Sofia. But I know I can't stay away any longer. Every day without you has been… unbearable."

Sofia's breath catches, and I see a flash of vulnerability in her eyes before she looks away, her jaw clenching. "That doesn't erase what happened," she murmurs, but there's less ice in her tone now.

"I know," I reply, resisting the urge to take her hand. "But I'm hoping it's a start. A chance to make things right."