The snow fell heavier the next morning, blanketing the Volkov estate in pure white. The world outside was quiet, subdued, but inside the house… everything had changed.
Larissa stood in the kitchen, watching steam curl from her cup of tea. She didn't hear Lukyan approach, but she felt him—like the weight of gravity pulling her in.
"You left early," he said softly.
She turned. He was dressed casually, sweater sleeves pushed to his elbows, a warm scent clinging to his skin—spice, pine, something freshly showered and distinctly him.
"I needed air," she murmured. "And I didn't want to wake you."
He walked closer. "You didn't."
Silence fell between them. Not awkward—just… charged. As if the memory of last night still hovered between their mouths.
"I remember everything now," she said suddenly.
Lukyan blinked. "What do you mean?"
"The first night we met," Larissa said, lips twitching at the memory. "You were cold. Arrogant. You told me love was a fairy tale invented to justify bad decisions."
"And you told me marriage was a trap," he added. "So I said, fine—let's make it a transaction."
"Ten years. Three children. Freedom after that."
"But you never asked why I wanted that," he said.
Larissa looked up at him. "You never seemed like a man who needed a reason."
He took a breath. "I was afraid."
Of what, she wanted to ask—but he answered before she could.
"Afraid of loving someone I could lose. Afraid of becoming like him."
Her throat tightened. "Dmitri."
Lukyan nodded.
"I didn't want to end up like him," he said. "Controlling. Violent. I thought… if I kept everything structured, if I didn't allow love, I could protect us both."
Larissa studied him. The hard lines of his jaw. The vulnerability flickering behind his eyes.
"But you love them," she said. "The kids. Me."
He didn't flinch. "I do."
Her heart stuttered.
Before she could respond, a soft knock echoed from the hallway. A butler opened the door.
"Apologies, sir," he said, eyes flicking between them. "There's a woman at the gate. She says her name is Elena Ivanova. She insists on seeing you, Mr. Volkov."
The fragile quiet snapped like glass.
Lukyan's entire body stiffened. "Tell her I'm not available."
"She says it's urgent. That it's about Larissa."
Larissa's stomach dropped.
"What the hell does she want with me?" she whispered.
Lukyan stepped forward, tone cold as steel. "Stay here. I'll deal with her."
But Larissa moved before she could stop herself, grabbing his arm. "No. I want to know."
His jaw clenched. "She's manipulative. Dangerous."
"I'm not afraid."
"You should be," he said quietly.
But she followed him anyway.
The Foyer – 10 minutes later
Elena stood just beyond the heavy iron doors, dressed in an impeccable crimson coat that made her look like she belonged in a magazine. Not a single hair was out of place, but her eyes—sharp, pale blue—were too bright.
Too desperate.
"I see you still answer the door yourself, Lukyan," she said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Elena." His voice was ice. "You said this was about Larissa. Say what you came to say, then leave."
Elena turned to Larissa, her smile turning syrupy. "My, my. You have settled in, haven't you?"
Larissa stood tall. "I don't know what you're playing at, but I'm not interested in your games."
"Oh, honey," Elena laughed softly. "This isn't a game. It's a warning."
Lukyan stepped between them. "Enough."
But Elena's gaze didn't move.
"He's not what you think, Larissa," she said. "You think you've melted the Ice King? You haven't even scratched the surface."
Larissa narrowed her eyes. "If you have something to say, say it."
Elena's smile twisted.
"Ask him what happened in Prague. Four years ago. Ask him about the clinic. About the girl who died because of him."
Larissa blinked. "What are you talking about?"
Lukyan's face turned to stone.
"I see," Elena said softly. "He hasn't told you."
"I said—leave," Lukyan growled.
"Fine," Elena whispered. "But ask yourself, Larissa… what kind of man signs a marriage contract to keep someone quiet?"
And with that, she turned and walked away, heels clicking on the stone path, vanishing into the snow.
Larissa turned to Lukyan, her voice barely above a whisper.
"What did she mean?"
He didn't answer.
And that silence told her everything.
....