Page 103 of The Pakhan's Dangerous Secret
MARIYA
The estate feels different now. Quieter. Like the air itself has finally stopped holding its breath.
I stand at the window in Andrey's study, watching morning light spread across the grounds while he works at his desk behind me. The sound of his pen scratching against paper is steady and familiar, grounding me in this moment of unexpected peace.
It's been weeks since anyone tried to kidnap me. Weeks since the other families made their last desperate play for control. And Bogdan is gone.
There was a small funeral. Private, mostly for Sophia's sake. She needed closure, needed to say goodbye to the father she'd loved despite everything he'd become. I stood beside her while she cried, holding her hand as they lowered the casket into the ground. Andrey was there too, silent and watchful, his presence a reminder that even in death, Bogdan's actions had consequences that rippled through all of us.
That was the end of it. No grand ceremony, no public acknowledgment. Just a quiet burial and the understanding that we were moving forward.
I turn from the window and let my gaze drift to Andrey. He's focused on whatever document he's reviewing, his blue eyes sharp with concentration. The morning light catches the strong line of his jaw and the broad set of his shoulders beneath his fitted shirt. Even doing something as mundane as paperwork, he radiates power and control.
My mind drifts back to a few weeks ago, to the morning I went jogging and saw my father. For a moment, I thought I was imagining it. The man looked older, more weathered. But his eyes were the same, warm and familiar, filled with the kind of love that doesn't fade even when everything else does.
I'd stopped running and walked toward him slowly, my heart pounding so hard, I could barely breathe. He stood still when he saw me, his expression shifting from cautious to relieved in the space of a heartbeat.
"Mariya," he'd said quietly, and just hearing my name in his voice made my throat tighten with emotion.
We didn't have much time. Maybe five minutes before Andrey's security detail caught up with me. But in those five minutes, my father told me he loved me. That he was proud of the woman I'd become, and that this would all be over soon, once Andrey and I figured out the clues he'd left behind.
"You need to do this," he'd said, his hands gripping mine tightly. "Especially Andrey. He needs to understand that I had nothing to do with the massacre. He needs to know why I testified against certain families."
Then Andrey had appeared, his presence cutting through the moment like a blade. My father had pulled away immediately, disappearing into the trees before Andrey's men could reach him.
I'd been furious. Andrey had sent men to follow me, to track my father down and capture him. We'd argued about it later, my anger clashing against his cold logic until he'd finally promised that no harm would come to Yegor if they found him.
"I just want answers," Andrey had said, his voice tight with frustration. "I want to know the truth."
I'd believed him. I still do. But I'm torn between wanting my father safe and wanting him here with me, protected by the same men who once hunted him.
Andrey's voice pulls me back to the present. "You're thinking about him again."
It's not a question. He knows me too well now, can read the shifts in my expression even when I'm trying to hide them.
"Yeah," I admit quietly. "I just wish I knew he was okay."
Andrey sets down his pen and leans back in his chair, his dark eyes studying me. "We'll find him eventually. And when we do, we'll get the answers we need."
"And then what?"
"Then we decide what comes next." His tone is careful, measured.
I move closer to the desk, my fingers trailing along the polished wood. "Are we really going to Bogdan's property today?"
"Yes." Andrey stands, closing the distance between us. His hand finds my waist, pulling me against him. "The gold key should open something there. Hopefully, another clue."
I tilt my head back to meet his gaze. "And if it doesn't?"
"Then we keep looking." His thumb brushes along my hip, the touch possessive and grounding. "We're close, Mariya. I can feel it."
I hope he's right. I hope this nightmare is almost over and we can finally move forward without the weight of the past crushing us.
An hour later, we're in the back of the SUV with Matvey driving. The city gives way to the countryside, trees lining the road as we head toward Bogdan's estate. Now that he's gone, there are no guards at the property, no one to stop us from entering.
The building we're looking for sits in the middle of the grounds, half-hidden by overgrown vegetation. It's old, the stone walls weathered by time and neglect. Andrey pulls the gold key from his pocket as we approach, the metal catching the sunlight.
"This is it," he says quietly.
