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“Yes.”

“I don’t understand.” Her fingers tighten around the page. “You wanted those rights when you found out about him. Any father would.”

“I still want them.”

I move carefully from the bed and cross to her. The pull beneath my dressing slows me, but Vera’s attention remains fixed on the agreement until I stop beside her chair.

She’s right. My name is beside Misha’s now, and I could’ve asked for more. But no signature can give me back his first word, his first steps, or the nights Vera held him while he cried and refused to sleep.

I missed all of it because I didn’t know he was mine.

“I wanted everything I’d missed,” I say, looking at the fading marks around her wrists. “I still do.”

She studies my face as if she’s waiting for the demand hidden beneath the words.

“Wanting those rights doesn’t make them mine,” I say. “I don’t get to take them from you simply because I want them.”

The next pages contain the deed to an apartment near her hospital. It has private parking, controlled access, three bedrooms, and a small courtyard behind the building. No Volkov company appears anywhere in the ownership records.

“You bought me a home.”

“Belov burned yours.”

Vera’s mouth tightens. “A new apartment won’t replace what was inside the old one.”

“I know.” My hand moves toward hers, then stops beside the deed. “Your photographs, your mother’s letters, and your father’s belongings are gone.”

I cross to the tall window overlooking the inner garden. Snow lies along the stone paths outside, pale beneath the security lights.

“This gives you a place beyond the estate that belongs only to you.”

“What happens if I don’t want it?” Vera rises and comes over to me with the sheet tied around her body. Her mouth twitches, although her voice remains serious.

“You can sell it, rent it, change every wall, or refuse to enter it.” I pick up my trousers from the floor and pull them on, leaving the top button open when bending strains my side. “The deed remains yours.”

She watches me finish, then returns to the chair and picks up the papers. After checking the registry number, she turns toward me again.

“You can’t reclaim it.”

“Neither can Maksim.”

The next document creates a trust for Misha. Vera controls the money until he becomes an adult, and Nina takes over if Vera can’t. The funds cover his education, medical care, housing, and future needs. My estate and the Volkov organization can’t borrow against it or use it as security.

Vera looks at the amount, then checks it again. “Where did this money come from?”

“My private accounts and investments. Nina verified every transfer before she created the trust.”

“None of it came through the Volkov organization?”

“None.”

She lowers the page. “Alexei, I can’t take this.”

“You aren’t taking it for yourself. It belongs to Misha.”

“He’s three.”

“He’ll grow.” I return to her chair and stand beside her, placing one hand over the trust papers. This part isn’t open for negotiation. “He’s my son, and I’ll provide for him.”