Page 32 of His Dark Pull

“Well, my parents lived here,”I say, a wave of sadness washing over me as I remember the life I had built with them in this small but cozy space. “It’s good enough for me. This place holds a lot of memories.”

A flicker of regret crosses his features. “I’m sorry,”he says. “Your parents. That was inconsiderate.”

“It was years ago, Alexander,”I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m okay.”

“Are you ever okay with your parents being torn from you?”he asks, catching my eye.

His question catches me off guard, its unexpected depth revealing a vulnerability I’ve never seen before. I remember Tyler’s stories of Alexander’s troubled childhood, of the neglect and abuse he had suffered at the hands of his father.

I look at Alexander, truly seeing him for the first time, not as the enigmatic businessman or the lover, but as a man who has also experienced loss and pain, who has been shaped by the shadows of his past, just like myself.

“No,”I admit, my voice trembling. “I don’t think you ever get over something like that.”

He nods. “Neither do I,”he confesses.

“I want to talk about Kovacs,”I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Your so-called friend.”

His expression hardens, shadows flickering in his eyes. “What about him?”

“I want to know what your connection is with him. I found an article with a picture of you two together, and it wasn’t a cooking paper,”I press, watching his jaw clench, a muscle ticking beneath his skin.

He avoids my gaze, running a hand through his hair, leaving it more disheveled than before. “It’s complicated,”he says, his voice tight, like a wound-up spring.

“I don’t care if it’s complicated. I need to know what’s going on. Are you involved with the Veles Network that everyone is looking for?”My heart thunders in my chest, the question hanging between us like a storm cloud.

He sighs a ragged breath that seems to carry the weight of the world. He meets my eyes. “Ava,”he starts, his voice rough, “when my father was—taken away, and my mother wasn’t able to care for us, Michelle and I were alone. We were just kids, with no one to turn to, no one to show us how to— survive.”

The vulnerability in his voice cracks something open inside me. I reach out, placing my hand on his, feeling the callouses on his skin, the marks of a life I’m only just beginning to understand.

He continues, his voice low, “Kovacs— he took us in. He gave us a place to stay and food to eat. He became the family we didn’t have. I owe him everything, Ava. He saved us.”

“But the Veles Network, Alexander? Or the Europeans, whatever. Is that the life he saved you for?”I ask, disappointed.

“It was all I knew,”he admits. It was the only way I could protect Michelle and provide for her. They were—theyare, all I have.”

His words hang heavy in the air, a confession and a plea all in one. I see the lost boy he once was, the man shaped by hardship and loyalty. My clenched fists loosen, my shoulders slumping slightly. He’s not the villain I painted him to be, a voice whispers in my head. Just a man caught in the crossfire.

“Alexander,”I say, my voice trembling. I understand. I do. But this life—it’s dangerous. It’s not what I want.”

It’s not what my parents would have wanted for me.

Pain flickers across his face, his eyes darkening like a storm gathering on the horizon. “I know,”he says, his voice hoarse. “And I’m trying to get out, Ava. For you. For us.”

“But can you?”I ask.

He hesitates, his gaze dropping to our intertwined hands, his thumb tracing circles on my skin. “I don’t know,”he admits, his voice raw with honesty. “But I have to try.”

A tear escapes and rolls down my cheek. I love him, I do, but I can’t live like this, always looking over my shoulder, wondering when the darkness will catch up to us.

“I have to leave, Alexander,”I whisper, the words a finality that breaks something inside me.

He closes his eyes, his jaw clenching, and I know he’s fighting the same battle within himself. He wants to hold on, to pull me close and promise me a future, but the truth hangs between us like a guillotine.

“I understand,”he says, his voice broken.

I disentangle my hand from his, the loss of his touch like a physical blow. Rising from the couch, I feel a wave of dizziness, the room spinning around me. I’m lost, adrift in a sea of emotions, the pain of losing him almost too much to bear.

I need to get out of here.

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