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His fingers loosen, but he doesn’t release me.

“For tonight?” he asks.

“For four years.” I sit beside him on the bed. “I kept Misha from you because your name scared me. I was afraid of the Volkovs and what their enemies might do if they found out about him. I thought keeping him far away from you would keep him safe.”

Alexei presses my hand. “It protected him for a while.”

“It also kept him from his father.” I make myself meet his eyes. “You should’ve known. I should’ve found a way to tell you.”

“You had one night with a man whose full name you didn’t know.”

“I found it later.”

His pale gray eyes shine, but he says nothing and lets me finish.

I don’t defend myself. “I saw the Volkov name, the Bratva, the shootings, and everything that could reach him through you. I kept you out of his life without giving you a chance.”

Alexei looks down at the yellow car.

“I can understand why you ran.” His voice is rough.

“I hate what it cost you.” I swallow and keep my hand beneath his. “I can’t give those years back.”

“No.” His thumb brushes my knuckles, but the strain around his eyes doesn’t ease. He doesn’t say it’s all right. He doesn’t tell me the lost years matter less because Misha called him Papa tonight.

Alexei turns my hand over and threads his fingers through mine.

“We start with tomorrow,” he says.

A soft knock sounds at my bedroom door. Yelena comes in with her bag and looks at Alexei.

“Shirt off.”

He obeys without arguing. She checks the fresh dressing and presses carefully around the incision. Then she listens to his chest and back, checks his pulse, and examines his arms and legs for swelling or fresh injuries.

“You’re still in one piece,” she says. “I wouldn’t test your luck again today.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Alexei says.

I take a clean shirt from the wardrobe. Alexei slides his arms into the sleeves, and I ease the fabric over his shoulders before fastening the buttons for him.

“Your turn,” Yelena tells me.

“I’m fine.”

“So is every doctor until another doctor checks.”

She examines my shoulder, wrists, ribs, and the bruise behind my knee, then makes me follow her finger with my eyes. When she finishes, she closes her bag and leaves the room.

A moment later, Oksana knocks and opens the door a few inches.

“Maksim is waiting in the sitting room with Leonid and Abramov. He’d like to speak with both of you.”

Alexei pushes himself upright, and I help him off the bed. When we enter the sitting room, Maksim is standing near the fireplace. His coat is gone and his sleeves are rolled to his elbows. Leonid and Abramov wait beside him. Leonid holds a thin folder.

Dr. Yelena heads for the door.

Maksim looks at her. “How is he, Doc?”