Page 95 of Secret Heir

“Come with me,” I say roughly. “I need to show you something.”

She winces. “Maksim⁠—”

“Please.” I hold out my hand. “Just…please.”

She hesitates then takes my hand and lets me pull her to her feet. She staggers and I realize she’s exhausted. She probably hasn’t slept or eaten in two days.

I lead her to my office and sit her in front of the laptop and pull up the warehouse footage.

“That’s you,” I say, pointing to the shadow. “Eight years ago at the Red Hook warehouse.”

Aria stares at the screen and starts crying again, but this time she nods.

“What did you see?” I ask urgently. “What did you hear that night?”

She’s shaking so hard I can see it. “If I tell you⁠—”

“You’re going to tell me.” I crouch beside her chair so we’re eye level. “Because I’m done with the secrets and the running and the half-truths. You witnessed something eight years ago that made you disappear. And something happened two days ago that made you try to run again. Tell me.”

She breaks.

“Alexander came to see me in the garden while you were out riding with Daniel.”

She told me this before when I caught her trying to run. But I didn’t believe her. I called her a liar and said she was making up conspiracies to justify kidnapping my son. Now, knowing she was really there that night, her words take on a different weight.

“Tell me again,” I order. “Exactly what he said.”

Aria’s beautiful face is white and she worries her hands. “He asked me if I enjoyed the show when I was hiding behind the crates. He knows I was there, Maksim.”

My jaw clenches. I ignored this and dismissed it as paranoid fantasy. What a fucking idiot I was.

“What else?”

She can’t stop crying. “He told me to keep my mouth shut about whatever I saw or heard. That if I didn’t, Daniel would have an accident. Children are so fragile, he said. So easy to hurt.” Her hand goes to her stomach and my own stomach sours. “And the baby—he said pregnancy is dangerous. So many things can go wrong. With the right encouragement.”

The rage that floods through me is white-hot. “He threatened our children,” I hiss.

I said those same words two days ago, but with skepticism and disbelief. Now they come out with rage.

“Yes.” She’s crying harder. “I tried to tell you. I tried to make you understand⁠—”

“I know.” I pull her out of the chair and into my arms, feeling my heart break. “I know. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t believe you, Aria.”

She collapses against me, sobbing, and I hold her tight, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other wrapped around her waist.

“I tried to tell you,” she chokes out. “I tried⁠—”

“I know. I know.” I press my face into her hair, feeling like the biggest piece of shit. “I failed you, moya. I should have listened. I should have believed you.”

Aria cries harder, her body going limp against mine.

“I should have trusted you.” I pull back so I can look at her face, wiping away her tears and wishing I could take away her pain. “Tell me what you heard that night after I left the warehouse. What did Alexander say?”

She takes a shuddering breath. “After you left, another man came in. I couldn’t see him very well but he had an odd accent. It’s not one I’ve ever heard before. It was so dark in there. I really couldn’t see his face, but I could see a burn mark on Alexander’s hand.”

My breathing hitches. She recognized Alexander because he hadn’t worn his gloves that first day he stopped by after I brought her home.

“The man asked if it was done,” Aria continues. Alexander said the accountant was handled, and the last loose end with the Cyprus accounts.”