Page 150 of Mile High Daddy

Alexei leans against the chair, watching me carefully. “He stole a shipment from his own boss. Wanted to smuggle it out through the Canadian border.”

My mother inhales sharply. “So that’s why he was in Camden Hill?”

Alexei nods. “Yeah. He thought a small town would be the perfect place to lay low and move product without drawing attention. Problem was—he owed Evans money.”

“So my dad knew Ryan was in town, and he used him to try to kill Mikhail?” I say.

“Exactly,” Alexei says. “Evans had been looking for an opportunity, and Ryan was desperate. It didn’t take much for Evans to recruit him. Ryan thought he could play both sides—run his smuggling operation and take out Mikhail in one go.”

I feel sick. I press a hand to my belly, suddenly grateful that Mikhail found me when he did. If he hadn’t?—

I shake the thought away.

It’s too much to process at once.

I exhale sharply, pressing a hand to my forehead.

It doesn’t change what happened, but suddenly, things feel…different.

The enemy wasn’t Alexei.

It was always my dad.

“I still don’t buy it,” Mikhail says, stepping forward.

Alexei doesn’t flinch. He just tilts his head slightly, something almost amused flickering in his gaze. “I don’t expect you to,” he admits, folding his arms. “I did cause a lot of damage to your warehouses. I wanted control of New York. You were in my way.”

Mikhail’s jaw tics.

“But in a way,” Alexei continues, his voice quieter, almost thoughtful, “I admired you.”

Mikhail watches him for a long moment, his expression impassive, unreadable.

I can see it—the calculation, the weighing of whether Alexei is worth trusting now, after everything. I hold out my hand, slipping my fingers into Mikhail’s warm, strong grasp. His muscles tense, but he doesn’t pull away. When his gaze flickers to me, I shake my head.

Mikhail exhales sharply, his fingers tightening around mine before he finally speaks again.

“We’ll deal with this later.” His voice is low, firm, final.

Alexei just smirks. “Looking forward to it.”

EPILOGUE

LILA

Icarefully lower my son into the crib next to his brother, my hands lingering on his tiny body for just a second longer. Their breaths are soft, their faces peaceful. Completely unaware of the world they’ve been born into.

My chest tightens. I won’t let that world touch them.

A warm hand brushes my hip, and then Mikhail is behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me back against him.

“They love sleeping next to each other,” I murmur, watching the way the twins instinctively turn toward one another.

Mikhail peers over their cribs, a man who’s spent a lifetime carving out an empire but now stands here, utterly conquered by two tiny souls. The soft glow of the nightlight catches in his silver-streaked hair, and for the first time, I see something new in him. Peace.

“They’ve never known anything else,” Mikhail says against my hair. “I’m glad they have each other. It’s not easy being alone in a world like this.”

I have a feeling he’s talking about himself.

---