Page 128 of Secret Heir

My heart breaks. “Maksim—” I start to say but Maksim shakes his head.

“He’s seven years old.” He looks up, devastation on his handsome face. His eyes are red-rimmed and wet, his expression wracked with grief and guilt. “He’s seven years old and he’s in a coma because I wanted my family back. I was too selfish to let you go. I needed you both so badly that I didn’t care about the consequences.”

“Stop,” I tell him as I reach across the bed, find his hand. It’s trembling. Tears pool in my eyes. “This is not your fault.”

“How is it not?” His voice rises, anguished. “If I’d just let you go and accepted that you were gone. If I’d moved on like a normal person instead of searching for eight years⁠—”

“Alexander would have found us eventually. You know that.” I squeeze his hand hard enough to hurt, trying to ground him and make him hear me. “He’s been planning this for eight years. It was only a matter of time before he tracked us down, and if he’d found us without you there to protect us—” My voice breaks, the horror wrapping around me like a vice. “We’d both be dead. At least this way we’re together and fighting back.”

“He nearly died,” Maksim says hollowly. “Our son nearly died right in front of us, and I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t protect him. What kind of father can’t protect his own child?”

“The kind who’s fighting an enemy that’s been planning this for nearly a decade.” I move around the bed and pull him into my arms. He resists at first, then collapses against me, his face buried in my shoulder. I stroke his hair. “This is not your fault. It’s Alexander’s. And when Daniel wakes up—” I have to believe it’s when, not if. “When our son survives this, we’re going to make Alexander pay. Together.”

He nods against my shoulder, his whole body shaking with sobs he’s been holding back for days. I hold him while he breaks, one hand in his hair, the other rubbing circles on his back.

We stay like that for a long time. Two broken parents trying to hold each other together while our son lies unconscious between us.

On the second day, Nikolai visits.

He comes in quietly, almost hesitantly. I hear the door open and look up to see him standing in the doorway, and for a moment I barely recognize him.

Nikolai Sokolov is always impeccable and commanding, but right now, he looks…diminished. His suit is rumpled, the tie loosened and askew. His hair is mussed, like hasn’t combed it in days. There are lines around his eyes and mouth that I’ve never noticed before, making him look older than his forty-five years.

When he looks at his nephew lying small and pale in the hospital bed, hooked up to machines, his expression cracks. He walks to the foot of the bed slowly and stares at Daniel for a long moment, taking in the tubes running into his small arms, the ventilator breathing for him, and the rhythmic whoosh filling the silence.

Nikolai’s jaw clenches and his hands curl into fists at his sides. When he speaks, his voice is rough with an emotion I’ve never heard from him before.

“I was wrong.”

I want to tell him I told you so, but I don’t. Instead, I’m quiet.

“I was wrong about Alexander. Wrong to defend him for so long. I was wrong to doubt you, Aria.” He finally looks at me, and what I see in his cold gray eyes shocks me. It’s real, genuine guilt. “I was wrong to dismiss Maksim’s concerns and let my loyalty blind me to the truth.”

Maksim glances at me, his eyebrows knit together. “Brother—” he starts to say but Nikolai cuts him off with a wave of his arm.

“No. Let me say this.” Nikolai’s voice is hard, but there’s pain underneath, and he swallows heavily. “I spent fifteen years trusting that man. Fifteen years believing he was loyal and I let that trust overrule what should have been obvious. Your girlfriend”—he looks at me—“tells me she witnessed him plotting treason and I called her a liar and manipulative. I all but called her a whore trying to turn you against your own organization.”

I flinch at the blunt assessment, but Nikolai doesn’t look away.

“I was wrong,” he says again. “And now an innocent child is paying the price for my arrogance.”

“He’s not just ‘an innocent child.’” I can’t keep the anger out of my voice, even though I’m too exhausted to really feel it. “He’s your nephew. Your blood. Daniel is family, and you let this happen because you couldn’t believe one of your trusted men would betray you.”

“You’re right.” Nikolai doesn’t make excuses which I appreciate. “And I’ll have to live with that every time I look at this boy for the rest of my life. I’ll know I failed to protect him when it mattered most.”

“So what now?” Maksim asks roughly, gazing at his brother sharply. “Guilt doesn’t fix this and apologies sure as hell don’t undo what happened.”

“No. They don’t.” Nikolai straightens, and I see some of his usual command returning. “But action might. I’m telling you now—whatever it takes, we’re going to find Alexander and end this. I’ve pulled every resource we have. Every contact, every favor owed, every piece of intelligence we’ve gathered over the past twenty years. We will find him.”

“And when you do?” Maksim asks, his body still.

“We bring him before the Bratva council. We lay out his crimes—all of them. The embezzlement, the attempted murders, the murder of Len, the treason.” Nikolai’s eyes are as hard as diamonds. “We let Aria testify about what she witnessed eight years ago. We present the evidence Maksim gathered, then we execute him for treason against the brotherhood.”

“I want to be there,” I say automatically. “When he dies. I want to watch.”

Nikolai looks at me, and something like respect flickers in his expression. “You will be. You’ve earned that right.”

I should feel vindicated that Nikolai finally believes me and he’s taking action. Instead, I just feel empty and desperate for my son to wake up.