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I’m stunned. I don’t know what to say, don’t know how to even begin processing what just happened, my father reappearing out of the blue.
“Did you know he was out?” That's all I can think to say.
After he killed my mother, my father was arrested and ultimately convicted of involuntary manslaughter. He was sentenced to twenty years in prison.
My aunt’s expression softens as she meets my gaze. "Yes, I knew he’d been released," she admits, her voice tinged with regret. "But I honestly hoped he'd be smart enough to stay away. I thought he'd understand that you wanted nothing to do with him."
Her eyes drop, and I can see the weight of her decision of not telling me pressing down on her. "I should've told you, sweetheart. I should have prepared you for the possibility of him showing up. I just... I wanted to protect you from more pain. I'm so sorry."
I can see the sincerity in her eyes, the genuine remorse. Barb has always been my protector, the one constant in a life marked by loss and uncertainty. I know her intentions were to shield me, even if it meant keeping me in the dark about Calvin's release.
"It's okay," I say, reaching out to grasp her hands. "You've always looked out for me. I know you didn't mean any harm. And honestly, I'm not even sure what I would've done with that information."
Barb looks up, her eyes meeting mine. "I just didn't want his shadow to darken your life again, Julie. After everything you've been through, you deserve peace."
I squeeze her hands, grateful for her unwavering support and love. "I have peace, thanks to you and Ivan. Calvin can't take that away from me. Not anymore." Another thought occurs to me, an unsettling one. “Are you okay? Are you safe here with him knowing where you live?"
Barb's response is immediate, her voice laced with the fearless strength I've always admired. "That man doesn't scare me, Julie. He wouldn't dare fuck with me, not now, not ever. His best days are long behind him."
Her confidence is infectious, a balm to my chaotic state of nerves. Yet despite her bravado, a part of me wishes for that same fearlessness. The encounter with my father has left me shaken.
"I wish I had your courage, Barb," I admit, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.
Barb steps closer, her hands gripping my shoulders firmly. "You have more strength than you realize, Julie. You're facing all of this head-on, and that takes guts. You're a fighter, just like me, just like your mom.”
Her words are a comfort, a reminder of the resilience that runs in our family. I nod, drawing strength from her unwavering support.
"I should get going," I say, the reality of my own situation pressing in. "Ivan's waiting for me, and we have a lot to figure out."
Barb pulls me into a tight embrace, her arms wrapping around me in a protective cocoon. "You go and sort things out with that husband of yours. And remember, I'm always here for you, no matter what. Please stay safe."
I hug her back, grateful for her presence in my life. "Thanks, Aunt Barb. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Breaking away from the embrace, I head toward the door, my mind a tempest of thoughts. The encounter with Calvin, the looming threat of Boris, the pregnancy, it's a lot to process. But I know I'm not alone. I have Barb, Ivan, and the strength that's always been a part of me, even when I've doubted it.
I step out of Barb's apartment, the guard by my side, and I take a deep breath. It's time to face whatever comes next, to protect my growing family and confront the shadows of the past.
Chapter 26
Julie
The ride over to Ivan’s office is a blur. I can't help but feel a sense of safety with my driver despite my irritation that Ivan hadn't mentioned his true role.
"Hey," I say, leaning forward to catch the driver's eye in the rearview mirror. "I need you to do something for me."
He meets my gaze, a silent question in his eyes.
"Please don't tell Ivan about my father showing up at Barb's," I plead, my voice firm. "He has enough on his plate, and I don't want to add to it."
The driver hesitates, his expression unreadable behind the sunglasses. I can tell he's weighing his loyalty to Ivan against my request.
After a moment he gives a slight nod. "I won't mention it, Mrs. Stepanov," he says, his voice a low rumble. "But if Mr. Stepanov asks directly if something happened, I can't lie to him."
I slump back in my seat, a mix of relief and trepidation washing over me. "Thank you," I whisper, more to myself than to him.
The sleek car pulls up to Ivan's office in the bustling Financial District, and my heart begins to beat a little faster. As if the driver can sense my nervousness, he looks over his shoulder and says, "We're here, Mrs. Stepanov," in a voice that's as calm and collected as his demeanor.
After parking the car, the driver opens my door and offers his hand, immediately at my side like a protective shadow. Upon exiting the vehicle, I see Ivan emerge from the building. He's a striking figure against the backdrop of the city, tall and confident in his tailored suit that fits him like a glove. The look on his face when he sees me sends warmth spreading through me—relief, concern, affection—they’re all there, written in the lines of his face and in the intensity of his gaze.
