Page 99 of Unholy Tsar

“Good. Then trust me to guide you. You’ll be fine.”

She mutters under her breath, but I know she’s secretly excited. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I slowly lead her out of the master bedroom and down the steps of the private jet.

Three cars wait for us below. We take the middle one, and I help her into the backseat, fastening her seatbelt and pressing a soft kiss to her temple before shutting the door.

I join her, and we start moving.

Cecilia sighs. “Can you at least give me a hint? Is it beachy? Mountain–y? Dessert–y? What clothes did you even pack for me, Maksim?”

“You’ve been so good so far—so why don’t you just wait a little longer, and you’ll find out.”

She pouts playfully, and I can tell she’s probably rolling her eyes at me under the blindfold. I laugh again. I can’t wait to see her face when she realizes where we are.

The car slows as we approach the thick outer gates. Finally, we stop in front of my old palace.

Our new home.

“We’re here?” Her voice brims with excitement, and I can hardly hold back mine as I help her out of the car. “When can I take this blindfold off, Maksim?”

“Now,” I answer, already undoing the knot.

It takes a second for her eyes to adjust, but when they do, her jaw drops. “Oh my god, it’s beautiful—wait, this–this is your palace, isn’t it? We’re in Russia.” She spins to face me with wide eyes.

“Yes, baby. We’re in Russia.”

She squeals and turns to face the palace again. “You renovated it.”

“Of course. I had to.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s ours, and that means it has to be perfect.”

She stares at the stately home in awe before a conflicted look scrunches her brows. “What-what about everything that happened here… with your family.”

I make sure to look her directly in the eyes so she knows I mean every word I say.

“Family,” I scoff. “Vera and Viktor just happened to be related to me by blood. They were never my family. Not really. You are my family. You and the Kilpatricks.”

The tension melts from her face as I grab her hand and lead her inside. The graffiti has been scraped off, the walls repainted, the windows repaired, and the electricity rewired. The moment we step inside, Cecilia is stopped dead in her tracks by the giant chandelier hanging overhead.

“It’s amazing,” she gasps.

“Fit for a princess.”

Walking deeper into the palace, you could never tell it was home to so much bloodshed.

“It’s incredible…” Cecilia keeps repeating like she can’t quite believe it. Good. I want her life to be like a fairytale from now on. A constant state of disbelief at how amazing everything is.

When we reach the first landing, I turn to the next set of stairs.

“Aren’t we going to explore each floor?” she asks, subtly tugging toward the hallway.

“Later,” I assure her. “Right now, there’s something you need to see.” Our destination is the fifth floor. When we get there, I lead her to the master bedroom—our bedroom—she inhales sharply, but I don’t wait for her to admire it; there’s no time. Instead, I walk her through the double glass doors that lead to the balcony.

“Oh my god… Maksim. I-it’s…glorious,” she can hardly get her words out against the beauty that greets her eyes. Ahead, the orange sun is setting over snow-capped mountains. Everything shimmers in a soft gold light. I didn’t want her to miss this. It is glorious.

But my gaze remains on her. She’s the most beautiful view I have ever seen.