Page 36 of Secret Heir

He’d make love to me like he had all the time in the world and wanted to spend it learning every inch of my body.

This Maksim—hard and cold—is a stranger wearing the face of the man I loved.

“Get out.” My voice is shaking. “Get out of my rooms.”

“Your rooms?” He moves closer again, and suddenly there’s barely any space between us. I can feel the heat radiating from his body, and I can see the pulse jumping in his throat. “Nothing in this house is yours, Aria. Not the rooms. Not the clothes. Not even Daniel anymore. He’s mine. You’re only here because I’m allowing it.”

And there it is. It feels like icy cold water has been dumped on me. “He’s my son,” I say fiercely, panic clawing at me. He’s trying to take my baby from me.

“He’s our son.” His voice drops to something barely above a whisper, and it’s somehow more terrifying than when he was shouting. “And he’s finally realizing what he’s been missing all these years. A real parent. One who can provide for him. Protect him. Give him everything he needs and deserves.”

“I protected him,” I gasp, feeling tears pool in my eyes. Don’t cry, don’t cry. My hands are fists at my sides. “I gave him everything I had.”

“And it wasn’t enough.” Maksim gives me a look of such disgust it makes me want to curl into a ball and hide. “Your love wasn’t enough to keep him fed. Your determination wasn’t enough to keep him in one school for more than a year. Your pride wasn’t enough to give him the childhood he deserved. Face it, Aria. You failed. And the sooner you admit that, the sooner we can move forward.”

He leaves before I can respond, the door closing behind him with a decisive click.

I stand there shaking with rage and shame and something that feels dangerously close to despair.

Because he’s right.

I failed. I failed to give Daniel what he needed. I failed to provide adequate food and stability and safety. I failed to be enough.

And now I’m paying the price.

The days blur together.

Daniel spends every morning with Maksim.

They’ve started working through a Russian language workbook together, and Daniel is picking it up with the quick mind of a child.

He’s started calling Maksim by his first name more comfortably, though sometimes he slips and says “sir” before catching himself.

But never Papa.

Or Dad.

And that fills me with delight because I know that’s what Maksim is looking for.

I spend my days in the library or the sitting room, pretending to read, and pretending I’m not slowly losing my mind. The estate is beautiful.

It’s forty acres of manicured grounds and ocean views, with every luxury imaginable, but it’s still a cage.

I can’t leave to go into town. I can’t call anyone.

I can’t do anything but watch my son fall more and more in love with his father while I become an afterthought.

Maksim barely speaks to me anymore except to deliver cutting remarks about my parenting. Every interaction is designed to make me feel like the failure I am.

And I fight back. Every time.

“Daniel needs structure,” he says one morning. He’s wearing running clothes and I hate the way I notice his fitted shirt clings to his muscular chest and arms. He’s clearly just back from his morning workout. His hair is damp with sweat, and I hate that some traitorous part of me finds it attractive.

“Daniel needs his mother,” I snap back.

“Daniel needs both of us not tearing each other apart.” He looks at me like I’m something distasteful. “But you can’t seem to manage civility for his sake.”

“Civility? You want civility?” I step closer, fury making me reckless. “You kidnapped us. You’re holding us hostage. You’ve taken over my son’s life and pushed me to the margins. And you want me to be civil?”