Page 120 of Secret Heir

“I know what it is,” I snap. “It doesn’t make it hurt less.”

“No.” Nikolai moves to the window, looking out over the compound grounds. “But it does mean there’s hope. He’s not broken, Maksim. He’s scared. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” I’m so tired. So fucking tired. “Right now it feels the same.”

Nikolai is quiet for a moment, still staring out the window. “When I was eight,” my brother says quietly, “Papa was shot. Do you remember?”

I vaguely do. I was too young to understand fully, but I remember my mother’s screaming.

“I stopped talking for three months,” Nikolai continues. “I wouldn’t say a word to anyone. Mama took me to doctors and therapists, but nothing worked. Papa was recovering, but I couldn’t—I couldn’t process that he was okay. That he’d survived.”

I stare at my brother. “I didn’t know that.”

“Mama didn’t like to talk about it. Said it showed weakness.” Nikolai turns back to me. “But eventually I came around and started talking again. Daniel will too.”

“What made you come around?” I ask, holding my breath.

“Time. And Papa being there every day and showing me he wasn’t going anywhere.” Nikolai moves closer, looking more human and the boy he used to be. “That’s what Daniel needs, Maksim. Not you fixing this. Just you being there. Being consistent. Being alive.”

The words settle into my chest, heavy and painful.

“He’ll come back to you,” Nikolai says quietly. “But you have to give him time.”

That evening, Nikolai suggests we try something normal. A family dinner.

“It might help,” he says. “Give the boy a sense of normalcy and show him that normal things are still possible.”

I’m skeptical. Daniel hasn’t wanted to eat with both of us present. He gets too anxious and overwhelmed. Last time we tried, he had a panic attack halfway through the meal.

But Aria agrees to try. “Maybe he’s ready now. It’s been over two weeks.”

So we gather in one of the compound’s smaller dining rooms—not the formal hall with seating for forty, but an intimate space with a round table and windows overlooking the gardens. The windows are covered with blast-resistant shutters since it’s evening, blocking out the view but providing security.

The room itself is beautiful with cream-colored walls, dark wood wainscoting, and a crystal chandelier that catches the light and scatters it in rainbow patterns. The table is set with simple white China, nothing too formal.

Nikolai has personally overseen the meal preparation. The head cook, Svetlana, has worked for him for twenty years. She’s a grandmother with steel-gray hair and warm eyes who’s been thoroughly vetted and re-vetted in the past two weeks. The food is prepared in the compound’s secure kitchen, under guard supervision, with multiple people watching every step.

Every precaution possible is being taken.

Daniel sits between Aria and me, his small body tense, and his shoulders hunched up around his ears. He’s wearing a sweater even though it’s warm because he’s been cold lately, unable to get warm no matter how many blankets we pile on him.

Another symptom of the trauma. His body is in constant fight-or-flight mode.

“It looks delicious,” Aria says brightly, injecting false cheer into her voice. “Pasta with tomato sauce. Your favorite, right Daniel?”

Daniel nods but doesn’t speak, not even looking up from his plate.

I try a different approach. “I heard you’ve been watching Chelsea matches with the guards,” I say softly.

Another nod. Still no eye contact.

“That’s my team,” I tell him, even though he knows this. We’ve talked about it before. “Have been since I was your age. My father took me to see them play when we visited London. We sat in the stands at Stamford Bridge, and it was raining, and I’d never seen anything like it. The crowd singing, the energy—it was incredible.”

Nothing. No response.

Aria catches my eye across the table, and I can see the same worry and heartbreak reflected there.

“You know,” she tries again, her voice determinedly cheerful, “maybe when all this is over, we can go see a match in person. The three of us. Or four, once the baby comes. Would you like that, Daniel?”