Page 35 of Royal Bargain

Aleksey exhales. “He wants you to come to the trial. Says he’s forgiven you.”

I blink. “Forgiven me?”

He nods slowly. “He says he understands now. That maybe he was wrong about you. He just… wants to see you again, Annushka.”

My heart slams hard against my ribs. For a second, I don’t breathe. And then I laugh. Bitter and thin. “Right. The man who had me hunted down like a traitor wants to see me again.” I shake my head. “He thinks I’m the reason he’s behind bars. He’s the reason I had to go on the run with my newborn daughter. Hewas going to hand me over to Dariy and let them tear me apart. And now he wants reconciliation?”

“He was angry,” Aleksey says quietly. “He felt betrayed. But time changes things.”

“He doesn’t do forgiveness, Aleksey. You know that.”

“I know that he can be a tough man,” he says, voice tight. “But he took me in when I had no one else. His heart isn’t made of stone,Annushka.”

I meet his eyes, and it hurts how much I want to believe him. Because once upon a time, we were both just kids caught in Anatoly’s shadow. We grew up together. Trained together. Survived together.

And he believes this. I can see it in the way he sits, the way he speaks. Like he wants this to be real. Like he needs it to be.

“I want to believe you,” I admit, my voice soft now. “God, I do. But you weren’t there when they cornered me. When they screamed in my face, called me a traitor, said I had disgraced the family. You didn’t see how quickly they turned on me. How fast love turned to hate.”

Aleksey looks down at his hands. “He says he was wrong.”

“And if he’s not?” I ask. “What if this is just another play? Another performance to lure me out into the open?”

He doesn’t answer right away.

“He asked about Lily, too,” he finally says, almost a whisper.

My stomach drops.

“Of course he did.”

Aleksey shifts beside me, frustration tightening the lines of his face. “Annushka, I’m telling you—he’s not angry anymore. He wants to make things right.”

“You really believe that?” I say, stunned. “After everything? After he had his men chasing me through the city like I was some goddamn fugitive?”

“He was hurt?—”

“He was furious, Aleksey. He wanted someone to blame, and I was an easy target.”

“He’s changed. He’s had time to think.”

I look at him like he’s lost his mind. “You really think Anatoly Volkov had some kind of prison epiphany? That he suddenly found clarity and compassion in his cold little soul?” I shake my head. “No. This is a strategy. A play. He wants control again.”

Aleksey’s jaw clenches. “You don’t know that.”

“And you do?” I snap. “You think you’re immune to his lies just because he treated you like a son?”

His eyes flash. “I was his son. As much as he was capable of having one.”

“Well, then maybe you’re too close to see it clearly.” I’m shaking now, frustration mounting as I try to believe him but knowing the truth. “You’re acting like this is about family, but it’s always been about power and control with that man. And I’m not walking my daughter into a trap just because you’re desperate to believe the man who raised us isn’t a monster.”

He looks wounded. “Our father is not a monster.”

Frustration simmers over as I stare at him. “Good fucking God, Aleksey. You wouldn’t know honesty if it smashed you in the face.”

He goes rigid and I know my words have cut him deeply.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he demands.