Page 49 of Hunter

I exhale slowly, running a hand through my hair. “It was complicated. I didn’t want to believe it myself, and you’ve been dealing with so much already. I didn’t want to add to your burden.”

She reaches out, her hand warm against my cheek. “You’re not a burden,” she says softly, her words soothing some of the tension knotted inside me. “But listen to your heart on this, Maxim. It doesn’t add up. Andrei being your brother is no secret, and your mother’s maiden name isn’t exactly hard to find.”

Her words give me a flicker of hope, a lifeline I didn’t realize I needed.

Sophia yawns, her exhaustion catching up to her.

“Get some sleep,” I urge gently. “You need to rest.”

“I can keep talking if you want,” she offers, her voice quieter now. As much as I’d love to keep the conversation going—because talking to her eases my mind—I know she needs sleep more than anything.

I lean in and press a quick kiss to her lips. “Take a nap. I’ll be fine.”

She studies me for a moment, as if to make sure I mean it, then nods. “Alright,” she says, settling back down against the pillows.

I lie beside her, staring up at the ceiling, my thoughts spiraling as I try to make sense of everything. It doesn’t take long for her to drift off, her breathing soft and steady beside me. Reaching over, I grab my phone, my mind still racing. I glance at the time—5 p.m. It’s still early. I’ll get some work done while she rests. If she hasn’t woken up by 8, I’ll wake her up to eat. She didn’t eat lunch today—she went straight from the clinic to home, and I know she has been neglecting herself.

I laugh softly to myself, shaking my head. She always throws it in my face that I act like a mother hen, but right now, I feel like one. It’s hard not to when she doesn’t take care of herself. Life would be so much easier if she just listened, but then, she wouldn’t be the woman I fell in love with.

I settle into the recliner, pulling my computer towards me, and dive into a contract my realtor sent me. The quiet click of the keys and the steady hum of the house are the only sounds in the room.

I’ve been looking for a place for us for months. Something away from the city, away from the past. A fresh start. I found it—an hour and a half away from the chaos of her clinic and the city life. It’s far from the bullshit that has followed us, the shadows of old memories that haunt us both. This house could be ours.

My plan was to give the Volkov residence to Andrei and Elena, but if what we found out is true, then he won’t get a damn thing from me. I could feel the rage bubbling up when I first learned the truth—my fingers itched to grab my Glock, find Andrei, and put a bullet in his head. But the phrase “he’s your brother” kept echoing in my mind, holding me back.

I know my instincts are to act—fight first, ask questions later—but I can’t afford to go down that path right now. He is my brother, no matter what, and I have to give him the benefit of the doubt. But that doesn’t mean I’m not torn up inside. This isn’t just about business or betrayal; it’s about everything I’ve everknown being turned upside down. And right now, I need to focus on what’s in front of me: her.

I release a sigh and sink deeper into the chair, resting my head against the headrest, closing my eyes in an attempt to soothe the pounding headache that has been lingering, relentless, for days. What the hell am I supposed to do if everything we found is true? If Andrei’s behind everything—the hit on me, Sophia’s kidnapping? My mind spins, replaying every moment of the last couple of months—hell, the last couple of years. He was the one who got shot, not me. Could it have been an accident, or did he orchestrate it so I wouldn’t see this coming? Nothing adds up.

He and I have always been close—always had each other’s backs. Sure, we’ve fought over stupid shit, but we’ve always made up. There has never been a hint of resentment between us. Could I have been wrong about our bond this whole time? What if all there is now is hate—resentment I never saw coming?

Her sweet perfume lingers in the air before I feel her hands gently resting on my shoulders. Instinctively, I grab her hands, pressing a soft kiss to each one.

“Hi,” she says, her voice soft, sleepy.

“Hey, krasavitsa. Did you have a good nap?”

“Yes,” she answers, walking around the recliner to sit on my lap, resting her head on my chest. “I’m sorry I fell asleep. I felt drained after…well, after everything today. You needed me, and I wasn’t able to be there.”

I press my index finger to her lips, silencing her with a gentle but firm gesture. I hate hearing her apologize like that. How many times do I need to tell her to stop?

“Please stop apologizing, Sophia.”

“You needed me, and I wasn’t there,” she insists, rolling her eyes in frustration.

“And aren’t you here now? Or did you develop the ability to project yourself from an undisclosed location?” I tease, holding back a laugh, grateful for this light moment.

She smacks my chest playfully, a small laugh escaping her lips. “You’re hilarious. Have you quit your job to become a stand-up comedian?”

My eyebrows shoot up, the corner of my mouth tilting into a half-smile. I love that she can bring a little bit of humor into this madness.

“Have you talked to your brother about what you found?” she asks, her voice suddenly serious.

The shift in the room is immediate—like the air has gone cold. The warmth of our moment vanishes in an instant. I knew she was going to ask. I just didn’t know how much I’d dread hearing it.

“Not yet,” I admit, lowering my head and resting my chin on top of hers. “And if I’m being honest…I’m terrified to.”

“Why?” she asks, the quiet understanding in her voice almost too much to bear.

---