The air in the room feels wrong. Too still, too sharp.
"You need to start talking." Her voice is clipped but trembling.
My throat feels sandpaper dry.
I walk closer, slowly, like she might bolt if I move too fast.
"I’ve been getting notes. Anonymous. Threats. Stuff slid under doors. A few months ago... I thought someone was following me."
She flinches, almost imperceptibly.
"And the gala?"
I nod stiffly. "That wasn’t random. It wasn’t isolated. I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to—"
"You didn’t want to worry me. But you don’t get to decide what I can handle."
Her voice cracks on the last word, and it guts me worse than anything else could.
Because she’s right.
And I’ve been wrong in every way that matters.
I drag a hand through my hair, searching for words that don’t make me sound even more like a coward.
"It wasn’t about controlling you. It was about protecting you. The only way I knew how."
Her arms are crossed tight over her chest, but she doesn’t interrupt.
"I’ve made mistakes. I know that. But I didn’t want you to be dragged down by them… or worse."
Her mouth softens, but she doesn’t back down.
"I was already dragged in," she says quietly, fiercely. "I chose to be. That’s what love is, Alessio. Showing up for the storm, not just the sunshine."
We sit there for a long moment, the weight of it all pressing down.
Sophie breaks the silence first. "What do we do now?"
I scrub a hand over my face. "First, I need to figure out who’s behind this."
I pull out my phone and dial Nikolai.
He picks up on the second ring. "Problem?"
"Yeah. A big one."
The conversation is tense but productive. I lay it out, every note, every shadow that’s followed me.
"No one from our side’s broken protection code," Nikolai says without hesitation. "If this isn’t Bratva, then you’ve got a rogue player. And I’ll help you find out who."
We start going through the timeline together, me pacing while Sophie listens, arms folded but eyes sharp.
I recount every note. Every incident.
There’s a pattern.
Nothing concrete yet.
