Page 61 of Dark Embers

“We thought maybe he had to deliver Tara,” I add and my eyes widen. “Oh fuck!” Suddenly I’m finding it hard to breathe. “Oleksi what if Tara and Gavriil got the baby…”

“Illegally and they wanted something in return from my brother,” Oleksi picks up on my line of thought. “They can’t deliver or run out of time to deliver.”

“Tara has already taken the baby…” I swallow.

“They retaliate.” I see his eyes darken with pain as he recalls his brother’s murder. “Tara takes off with the boy to hide him.”

“She thinks Kirill and Stephan are after the baby not knowing who they are.” I know I’m reaching here but now my mind is spinning.

There are so many unanswered questions and I’m playing in a world I’ve just stepped into. A world where people steal babies, or get them on the black market where people don’t so much as blink an eye before brutally murdering someone. And my sister is caught in the middle of all this—no wonder she was so scared about her pregnancy.

My eyes widen once again—oh fuck—Elena! My stomach clenches and my eyes settle on Oleksi. He’s just standing there staring at—processing this new development. Guilt washes over me. I’m torn between loyalty to my sister and knowing it’s time to tell Oleksi the truth. My brow furrows. Wait a minute. Why are they adopting if Gavriil was clearly fertile?

“Can I see that adoption document again?” Oleksi nods and hands it to me.

I read it more in depth and suck in my breath looking up at him. “Something else has been marked on page two of the document.” I turn it to show him. Under reason for process Gavriil has scribbled,three failed pregnancies. The longest my wife carried was three months.

“I didn’t even know they were trying,” Oleksi’s voice is low and hoarse with emotion. He raises his eyes to mine and they are haunted. “He never told us about this. Or at least not me.”

“Maybe he was going to tell you all when they had their little boy,” I reason, and I know now is the time to tell him about Elena. “Oleksi there is…”

A knock on the door distracts us and he quickly fastens his belt and pulls on his shirt. I’m not even sure he heard what I said as he barks. “Come in.”

The door opens and Syd steps in. “The jet is ready when you are.”

“Thanks, Syd, we’ll be there in ten.” He looks at me as she leaves. “Are you okay?”

I nod, my nerves zinging.Fuck did I really just nearly tell him about Elena?Maybe Syd interrupting was fate’s way of telling me not to. “I just need to pack. I won’t be long.”

He kisses me on the forehead. “I’ll be in the study when you’re ready.”

I nod and watch him go still zinging from what I’d almost done.

CHAPTER 23

Oleksi

The soft hum of the jet engines vibrates beneath my feet as I lean against the doorway to the smaller bedroom cabin, watching Sabrina kiss Elena goodnight. The cabin is dim, bathed in the warm glow of low lighting, Magda stands beside the crib waiting for us to leave so she can close the door of the smaller room.

Sabrina lingers a second longer, pressing a gentle kiss to Elena’s forehead before turning to me. There’s a look in her eyes—tenderness wrapped in exhaustion, laced with the uncertainty of the day’s revelations. She has been through hell and is still standing. She is still fighting.

And fuck, if I don’t want to take her mind off everything for just a little while.

I guide her through the wide cabin corridor, my palm warm against the small of her back. The master suite is the largest of the three, built for long-haul privacy, with plush cream walls, a king-size bed dressed in deep navy linens, and a fireplace-style screen flickering softly across from a low table.

On it, two glasses of premium Russian vodka glisten beside a silver platter bearing chocolate mousse, whipped cream, and a bowl of pitted deep red cherries.

Sabrina raises a brow when she sees it. “Bribery through dessert?”

“Distraction,” I correct, stepping closer. “I need it as much as you do.”

A faint smile pulls at her lips, but it fades almost instantly. Her eyes flicker toward the en-suite bathroom. “I need a shower first.”

I nod and watch her disappear behind the frosted glass door. The moment I hear water rush through the pipes, I cover the desserts to keep them from spoiling, take a long pull of vodka, and strip out of my shirt and jeans.

The shower is built into the curve of the fuselage—large enough to move in, with sleek black marble walls, and a rainfall head that steams the glass in seconds.

I step inside quietly, the warm air wrapping around me like a lover's breath. Sabrina is facing away, eyes closed, as water trickles down her spine. Her hands braced against the tiles. The sight of her—naked, wet, vulnerable—punches the air from my lungs.

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