Page 55 of Secret Heir

The second direct encounter happens in the garden.

I’m with Daniel, watching him dribble a soccer ball. He’s laughing as he chases after the ball, dirt flying as he runs as fast as he can. He looks so happy. So healthy. So safe.

Then Alexander rounds the corner of the hedge maze, and my blood turns to ice.

“Beautiful afternoon,” he says pleasantly as he neatly stops the ball. “And who is this young man?”

Daniel freezes, his chest rising and falling rapidly from his running and looks at me for guidance. I want to grab him and run, but I force myself to stay calm.

“This is Daniel,” I manage. “Daniel, this is Mr. Morozov. He works with…” I can’t bring myself to say with your father. “With Maksim.”

“Hello, sir.” Daniel’s manners are perfect. Maksim has been teaching him how to greet adults properly. He offers his small hand.

Alexander shakes it, and I watch his eyes take in every detail of my son. The gray Sokolov eyes. The dark hair cut like Maksim’s. The aristocratic bone structure that marks him as unmistakably Nikolai’s nephew.

“A pleasure to meet you, Daniel.” Alexander smiles, but it looks forced. “You look very much like your uncle. Has Maksim told you about Nikolai?”

“A little.” Daniel is cautious, the way he is with most strangers. “He says Uncle Nikolai is very smart and very busy.”

“Indeed he is.” Alexander’s gaze flicks to me. “Your mother must be proud. Such a fine boy, and a Sokolov through and through.”

The way he says it makes my skin crawl, like he’s cataloging Daniel’s value and assessing him as an asset or a liability.

“We should go in,” I say abruptly. “It’s getting a bit too warm.”

“Aww Mom, do we have to?” Daniel whines, looking put out.

“Your mother is right, Daniel, and you should always listen to her.” Alexander lightly kicks the ball back to my son. “Perhaps we’ll see each other at dinner. I believe Maksim invited me to stay this evening.”

I grit my teeth. Of course he did.

I take Daniel’s hand and walk back toward the house, feeling Alexander’s eyes on my back the entire way.

That night at dinner, I can barely eat. Alexander sits across from me, making conversation with Maksim about business I don’t understand. But every so often, his gaze slides to me as if he’s trying to figure out what I know.

I try to warn Maksim. I don’t tell him everything, but I try.

“I don’t like Alexander around Daniel,” I blurt out one evening after our son has gone to bed. We’re in Maksim’s room as we’ve been sleeping here most nights now.

He’s sitting in bed in black sleep pants and nothing else. I hate that even though I’m scared shitless, I can’t help but admire how handsome he is. The lamplight catches on the planes of his muscular chest, highlighting the definition of his abs, and the power in his shoulders and arms.

He looks up from the reports he’s reading, those gray eyes sharp and assessing. “What?”

“Alexander. I don’t want him around Daniel.”

His eyes narrow. “Why not?”

“I just don’t.” I’m pacing, unable to sit still. “There’s something about him that makes me uncomfortable.”

“Something about him makes you uncomfortable?” He sets the papers aside, and I watch the muscles in his arms flex with the movement. His eyebrows raise in disbelief. “You’re going to need to be more specific than that.”

I cross my arms over my chest tightly as I continue to wear a hole in the carpet. “I don’t trust him.”

“You don’t trust anyone,” he says flatly. “That’s not a reason.”

“It’s reason enough for me.” I stop pacing and face him. “I’m Daniel’s mother. If I don’t want someone around my son⁠—”

“Our son.” He stands, and the movement is fluid and powerful. He’s wearing only those damned low-slung sleep pants, and I can see the trail of dark hair disappearing beneath the waistband. “Start remembering he’s not just yours. And Alexander is family. He’s Nikolai’s most trusted lieutenant and saved his life.”