Page 52 of Bought By the Ruthless Pakhan

But he didn't come closer. After that, he turned and went back to the living room.

I stood at the stove, finally able to let out that trapped breath. The kettle screamed. Steam battered the lid.

I shut off the burner. The kitchen went silent except for the steam climbing, fogging up the little mirror by the counter.

I wiped it with my hand. A clear streak opened across the glass. The woman inside had flushed cheeks, tight lips, eyes panicked like a cat whose tail had just been stepped on.

Oh God.

What was I supposed to do?

Should I march out there and lay it all out? Tell him I'd never give up custody of Alex?

But...

The truth was like tissue paper. Once you tore it, you couldn't tape it back together. I'd worked so hard to piece this life together. I didn't want it ripped apart.

I took a deep breath, tucked loose strands behind my ears in the mirror, and pressed my hand against my burning cheeks. Then I picked up the coffee and pushed through the door.

The living room ceiling light was on now. Warm yellow light pooled across the carpet, softening the whole room's edges.

Blocks were scattered everywhere. Alex knelt in the middle, head tilted back as he tried to fit a blue piece onto the castle's tower.

Ivan sat across from him, long legs folded awkwardly, one hand loose on his knee, the other reaching out to steady the wobbling gate.

Light fell across the top of his head, blurring the angles of his profile. The arc of his brow, the line of his jaw—both softened in that warm glow.

Hard to believe this man ruled the dark world.

He sensed my gaze and suddenly turned, those gray-blue eyes still holding the gentleness from playing with Alex.

My hand shook. Coffee nearly sloshed over the rim.

Alex chirped, "Mommy, look at the gate Ivan helped me build!"

I walked over, set the coffee on the table, and forced a smile. "Alex, if you're done playing, you should get to your homework. Don't keep your teacher from going home."

Anyone could hear the dismissal in my voice.

Ivan certainly did. He sat there, a block still balanced on his knee, no particular expression on his face. Just a slight lift of his eyelids, his gaze traveling over Alex's head to land on my face.

Alex's shoulders slumped.

He drooped, voice small like he was negotiating with himself. "Okay then."

He looked up at Ivan with longing. "Ivan, we can't finish our castle."

Ivan smiled faintly. Barely a smile at all.

He reached out and tapped Alex's forehead. "You go write in your room. When you're done, we'll finish the castle. Deal?"

I frowned. Was he planning to stay?

Alex's eyes lit up. He nodded eagerly, grabbed his backpack, and scampered off to his room with a patter of little feet.

The living room went silent.

Steam still curled from the coffee on the table. Blocks littered the floor. The castle was half-built, the gate missing a gray semicircle piece.