“If you’re hiding anything about my father…I deserve to know.” Her fingers curl into my shirt. “I keep dreaming about him.”
The words hit harder than any accusation.
Nightmares.
I close my eyes once, briefly. Regroup. Contain.
“You do,” I say quietly. “You deserve the truth.”
She stiffens just a little, bracing herself.
“But not all of it tonight.”
Her head lifts. She looks at me, searching, measuring whether this is another cage wrapped in gentleness.
“I’m not lying to you,” I continue, lowering my voice. “I’m choosing what won’t destroy you at three in the fucking morning, Raelyn.”
Her lips press together. She doesn’t argue. She’s too tired for that. Too worn down.
“So, what can you tell me, Konstantin?”
Before I decide which truth will hurt her least, there’s a knock.
“It’s Nik.”
I don’t look away from her. “What?”
Nik opens the door just enough. “There’s a man at the gate. Says he was an old colleague of Agent Nathaniel Hart. Detective Samuel Reed.”
The name lands wrong. Too clean. Too late.
Raelyn sits up instantly, eyes wide, sleep forgotten. “What?”
My body goes rigid.
“Bring him to the main hall,” I say. “Now.”
Nik hesitates—just a fraction—then nods and disappears.
Raelyn is already on her feet. “We have to go see him. Konstantin, this could be—”
I catch her wrist before she can take another step. Not hard. Absolute.
“You stay with me,” I say. “You don’t speak unless I allow it. You don’t move unless I approve. Do you understand?”
She doesn’t even pause. “I promise.”
Immediate. Earnest. That scares me more than defiance.
I grab the sweatpants from the bed and hold them out. “Wear these.”
She rolls her eyes, but she takes them and pulls them on anyway. Obedient. Too fast. I pretend not to notice how that twists something ugly and possessive in my chest.
We move.
I keep her half a step behind me as we descend to the landing. My hand stays at her lower back, not gentle, not rough—territorial.
The doors open.