Page 26

Ivan

The hum of the engine fills the silence as I drive, my thoughts focused on the tasks ahead. There’s always something that needs handling, some deal to finalize, some loose end to tie up. But today, my mind is pulled back to Sarah, to our daughter, Yelena, and the life we’ve started to build together. Just as I’m about to settle into the rhythm of the drive, my phone buzzes on the console beside me. Artem’s name flashes on the screen.

I answer the call, keeping my eyes on the road. “Artem, what is it?”

There’s a pause on the other end, the kind that tells me something’s off. Artem is rarely hesitant, but when he is, it’s never good news. “Boss, I don’t really know how to say this… but I just saw something odd.”

My grip on the steering wheel tightens, a cold knot forming in my gut. “What did you see?”

“Sarah,” he says slowly, as if weighing each word. “She just invited an unknown man inside. I saw her hold his hand… it didn’t look right.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Sarah, with another man? It doesn’t make sense. That’s not like her. She wouldn’t do something like that—not to me, not after everything we’ve been through. Artem isn’t one to lie or exaggerate. If he says he saw it, then he saw it.

A surge of anger and confusion crashes over me. Without a second thought, I yank the steering wheel to the side, making a sharp turn in the direction of home. My mind races as I drive, the tension in my chest tightening with every mile that brings me closer to the house. How could this be possible? Why would Sarah be with another man, holding his hand? It doesn’t add up.

I try to push down the anger boiling inside me, but it’s no use. The thought of someone else near her, touching her, in our home, around our daughter—it’s unbearable. Whoever this man is, he’s either incredibly bold or incredibly stupid to think he can come into my home and try to take what’s mine.

By the time I pull into the driveway, my anger has turned into a cold, seething rage. I slam the car door shut behind me and stride toward the house, my mind already running through the possibilities, trying to make sense of the situation. There has to be an explanation, some reason for this, but right now, all I can think about is confronting the man who dared to walk into my home.

I push open the front door and step inside, the quiet of the house doing nothing to calm the storm brewing inside me. The sound of low voices drifts from the living room, and I follow it, my footsteps echoing through the hall. When I reach the doorway, the sight before me stops me cold.

Sarah is sitting on the couch, her posture relaxed, but there’s tension in her face. Across from her is an unknown man, casually holding Yelena—our daughter—in his arms. He’s smiling down at her, his body language easy, as if he belongs here, as if he has every right to be holding my child.

For a moment, the sight is so jarring that I don’t move, don’t speak. Then the anger rears its head again, white-hot and dangerous. How dare he? How dare he sit here in my house, holding my daughter, as if he has any claim to this family?

Sarah looks up and sees me standing there, and the expression on her face shifts—surprise, concern, and then something that looks like relief. I’m too far gone to care about the nuances of her reaction. My gaze shifts to the man, and I can’t keep the venom out of my voice as I speak.

“Who the hell are you?” I demand, my voice low and deadly.

The man looks up, meeting my gaze with a calmness that only infuriates me further. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move to put Yelena down. Instead, he gives me a measured look, as if he’s trying to assess the situation, to see how much danger he’s in. He’s playing with fire, and he doesn’t even realize it.

“Ivan, wait—” Sarah begins, but I cut her off, my eyes never leaving the man who’s holding my daughter.

“Put her down,” I command, my voice a growl.

The man hesitates for a moment, then slowly, carefully, he lowers Yelena back into her crib nearby. Once she’s safe, I take a step forward, my fists clenched at my sides, ready to drag him out of this house myself if I have to.

“I asked you a question,” I say, my tone sharp. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my home?”

“Ivan, please,” Sarah says again, her voice pleading now. “Just listen for a second.”

I glance at her, the frustration in her eyes tempering my rage just enough to keep me from doing something I’ll regret. There’s more to this, I can see that now, but it doesn’t change the fact that this man is here, uninvited, in my home, around my family.

The man finally speaks, his voice steady but respectful. “My name is Luke,” he says, holding up his hands as if to show he means no harm. “Sarah’s brother.”

The anger doesn’t dissipate, but it shifts, morphing into something else—confusion, and a begrudging sense of understanding. Sarah’s brother. The one she’s mentioned, the one who’s been away for years, studying abroad. She’s talked about him before, but I hadn’t expected him to show up here, unannounced, out of the blue.

I glance back at Sarah, whose expression is filled with a mix of worry and relief. “He just got back,” she says softly, her eyes pleading with me to understand. “I wasn’t expecting him either, Ivan. He just showed up.”

I take a deep breath, trying to push down the lingering anger and assess the situation with a clearer head. “Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?”

“I didn’t know,” Sarah says, her voice calming me more than I care to admit. “I was just as surprised as you are.”

I study Luke for a moment, watching as he stands there, his posture relaxed, but there’s a protectiveness in his stance when he looks at Sarah. He’s family, I remind myself. He’s not a threat.

The anger that surged up in me at the sight of him holding Yelena, at the thought of another man in my home, isn’t something I can easily forget. I step closer, standing in front of Luke, my gaze unwavering. “Welcome home,” I say, my voice still carrying an edge. “Let’s be clear—you don’t come into my house without letting me know first. Understood?”

Luke meets my gaze, his expression calm, but I can see the understanding in his eyes. “Understood,” he replies evenly. “I’m sorry for the surprise. I just wanted to see my sister.”

I nod, the tension in my chest finally beginning to ease. “Good. Now let’s all sit down and talk.”

As we all settle down in the living room, the tension that had gripped me slowly starts to ease. I glance over at Sarah, who’s now sitting beside her brother, and feel a pang of guilt for having doubted her, even for a moment. This is her brother—Luke—the one she sacrificed so much for. The relief in her eyes is clear as she sits beside him, the two of them exchanging a glance that speaks of years of shared memories and unspoken understanding.

Luke starts to talk, his voice calm and steady. “I’ve just returned from finishing my degree abroad,” he says, a hint of pride in his tone. “It was a long time coming, but I finally made it.”

Sarah smiles at him, the warmth in her expression softening the sharp edges that life has carved into her. “I’m so proud of you, Luke. I always knew you’d do great things.”

Luke reaches over, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Sarah. You’re the reason I’m here today.”

I watch them, the way they interact, and a new understanding settles over me. The bond between them is strong, forged in the fires of everything they’ve been through. There’s no room for jealousy or doubt in that. I find myself relaxing into the moment, letting the anger and suspicion that had flared up earlier fade away.

Luke continues, his expression growing more animated. “I have some more news. I’m engaged. We’re planning to get married soon.”

Sarah’s eyes light up, and she leans forward, her excitement palpable. “Luke, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you. I can’t wait to meet her.”

Luke smiles, clearly pleased by her reaction. “She’s wonderful, Sarah. I think you’ll really like her. I wanted to tell you in person. It’s important to me that you’re a part of this.”

Sarah’s smile softens, and there’s a trace of emotion in her eyes as she looks at her brother. “I’m so glad you’re back, Luke. It means the world to me.”

He meets her gaze, his expression serious now. “You were always there for me, Sarah. You risked everything to save my life. Now that I’m back, I want you to know that I’ll always be here for you. Whatever you need, I’ll be there.”

Sarah’s smile grows, and she nods, the weight of his words sinking in. “Thank you, Luke. That means more to me than you know.”

The atmosphere in the room shifts, becoming lighter, more relaxed. There’s a sense of closure, of things coming full circle. I find myself smiling too, watching the siblings reconnect after so much time apart. It’s a sweet, tender moment, one that feels like the perfect end to everything we’ve been through.

As the conversation drifts to lighter topics—wedding plans, Luke’s time abroad—I sit back, feeling a sense of contentment settle over me. Sarah’s smile is genuine, and for the first time in a long while, I see her truly at peace. I reach over and take her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She looks over at me, her eyes shining with happiness, and in that moment, I know that everything we’ve been through, all the pain and the struggle, has been worth it.

Together, we’ve built something strong, something unbreakable. As we sit there, surrounded by the warmth of family, I can’t help but feel that this is just the beginning of the life we’ll build together. The past may have been dark, but the future—our future—looks bright.

With Sarah by my side, I know that we can face anything that comes our way.