Chapter 4: The Twins Settle In
Leo wakes up at 6 AM. He does not use an alarm clock. He has an internal sense of time that Allie finds both impressive and slightly unsettling. His sister is still asleep, sprawled across her bed with one arm hanging off the side, snoring softly.
He gets up quietly. He does not want to wake Luna. She needs her sleep. She had nightmares last night, the bad kind where she wakes up screaming and cannot remember why. Leo sat with her until she fell back asleep, holding her hand, telling her stories about brave pirates who conquered their fears.
He is tired. But he is also worried.
Mom came home different last night. She smelled different, like expensive cologne and car leather and something else, something nervous and excited that Leo does not have a name for. She talked about her new job like it was good, but her hands shook when she made dinner, and she checked her phone ten times while they ate.
Something is happening. Leo does not know what, but he knows it is important. He knows he needs to be ready.
He pads to the kitchen in his socks. The apartment is cold. The heating does not work properly, and Mom says they cannot afford to fix it yet. Leo makes a mental note to research DIY heating repair on Mrs. Chen's tablet. With permission.
He finds the cereal, pours himself a bowl, sits at the table where he can see the front door. He likes to see the door. It is a security thing. He read about it in a book about being prepared for emergencies.
The book also said to trust your instincts. Leo's instincts are telling him that Mom's new job is not just a job. That the man she works for is not just a boss. That there are secrets here, dangerous ones, and Leo needs to figure them out before someone gets hurt.
He is five years old. He knows he is just a kid. But he also knows that he is the man of the house, that Mom depends on him, that Luna needs him to be strong.
He will not fail them.
"Leo?"
Luna appears in the doorway, hair wild, dinosaur clutched to her chest. She is wearing pajamas with feet, the ones with stars on them. She looks small and vulnerable and Leo feels that familiar surge of protectiveness, the one that makes his chest tight.
"You should sleep more," he says. "It is early."
"I had a feeling." Luna climbs onto the chair next to him, rests her chin on her hands. "A feeling that you were being worried alone. You are not supposed to be worried alone. That is the rule."
"What rule?"
"The twin rule." Luna says this like it is obvious. "We share everything. Worries, cookies, cooties. That is what Mom said."
Leo smiles despite himself. "I am not worried. I am just... thinking."
"About Mom?"
"About everything."
Luna nods seriously. She pours herself cereal, spills some milk, does not clean it up because Luna does not notice messes the way other people do. "I think her new boss is handsome," she says casually.
Leo chokes on his cereal. "What?"
"I saw a picture. On the computer. When Mrs. Chen was not looking." Luna grins, proud of herself. "He has nice hair. And he looks like he would be good at carrying things. Heavy things. Like if we needed a new couch."
"Luna, you cannot look up Mom's boss. That is stalking. We talked about this."
"It is research. You do research. I do research. We are a team." Luna eats a spoonful of cereal, dripping milk down her chin. "Also, I think he is lonely."
"Lonely?"
"In the pictures. He is always alone. Even when there are other people. He looks..." Luna struggles for the word. "He looks like us. Like when we are at school and everyone else has a dad pick them up and we pretend we do not care but we do."
Leo puts down his spoon. He thinks about this. Luna is often ridiculous, but she is also sometimes wise in ways that scare him. She sees things other people miss. She feels things other people ignore.
"If he is lonely," Leo says carefully, "that does not mean he is good. Bad people can be lonely too."
"Mom is not bad. She is lonely. And she is good."
"Mom is different."
"Is she?" Luna tilts her head, considering. "Maybe the boss is different too. Maybe he needs someone to be his friend. Maybe Mom needs someone to be her friend. And maybe..." she grins, suddenly mischievous, "maybe he could be our dad."
"Luna!"
"What? It is a good idea. We need a dad. He needs kids. Mom needs help. It is perfect."
"It is not perfect. It is complicated. Mom said so." Leo stands up, carries his bowl to the sink. "And we do not need a dad. We have each other. We have Mom. That is enough."
But even as he says it, Leo wonders. He wonders if Mom feels the same way. He wonders if the loneliness he sees in her sometimes, late at night when she thinks they are asleep, is something they can fix.
He wonders about the man with the nice hair and the lonely eyes.
And he decides that he needs to meet this Dominic Volkov. He needs to see for himself what kind of man his mother is working for. He needs to protect her, whatever it takes.
Even if it means being nice to a potential evil stepfather.
Especially if it means that.
Allie wakes up to the sound of arguing. She smiles before she even opens her eyes. Leo and Luna, debating something with the intensity of world leaders negotiating peace. It is her favorite sound in the world.
She showers, dresses, prepares for another day of trying to pretend that Dominic Volkov is just her boss. That yesterday did not happen. That she is not having lunch with him today, in public, like a date that is not a date.
She is nervous. She hates being nervous. She has survived worse than lunch with a handsome man. She has survived pregnancy alone, childbirth alone, raising twins alone, moving to a new city alone.
But this feels different. This feels like the moment before everything changes, like standing on the edge of a cliff and trying to decide whether to jump.
"Mommy?" Luna bursts into Allie's room, jumping on the bed. "You look pretty."
"Thank you, baby." Allie applies lipstick, her only concession to vanity. She is wearing the navy skirt again, the grey blouse. She cannot afford new clothes yet. "Are you ready for school?"
"Leo says I cannot wear my pirate hat."
"Leo is right. School has rules."
"But I am a pirate. Pirates do not follow rules."
Allie laughs, picks up her daughter, spins her around. "You are a pirate who needs an education. So you can be a pirate captain, not just a pirate. Captains have to read maps. They have to do math to split the treasure."
Luna considers this. "Okay. But I am bringing my sword."
"It is a ruler, not a sword."
"It is a sword if I believe it is."
Allie cannot argue with that logic.
They walk to school together, the three of them, hand in hand in hand. The school is a public elementary, overcrowded and underfunded, but better than anything they had in Atlanta. The twins have been here two weeks. They are still adjusting.
Leo is quiet as they walk. He keeps looking at Allie with that serious expression, the one that makes him look forty instead of five.
"Leo? What is it?"
"Nothing." He squeezes her hand. "Have a good day, Mom. Be careful."
"I am always careful."
"Promise?"
Allie kneels down, looks him in the eyes. "I promise. I will be careful. I will come home to you. Always."
Leo nods, but he does not look convinced. He hugs her tight, too tight, and then he takes Luna's hand and leads her into the school without looking back.
Allie watches them go. Her heart aches. She knows Leo is worried. She knows he senses something she is trying to hide. She needs to be better. She needs to protect him from the complications of her life, from the dangers of getting too close to a man like Dominic Volkov.
But even as she thinks it, she remembers the text from this morning. The simple words: Good morning. I am looking forward to today. D.
She should not have given him her number. She should not be smiling at her phone like a teenager. She should not be looking forward to today too.
But she is.
And that terrifies her more than anything.
The morning at work is busy. Dom is in meetings, unavailable, and Allie is grateful for the distance. She focuses on learning the systems, organizing his calendar, fielding calls from people who want things she does not understand yet.
At 11:30, her phone buzzes. I am downstairs. When you are ready.
Allie's hands shake as she gathers her purse. She tells the receptionist she is going to lunch. She does not say with whom. She does not want to explain.
The black sedan is waiting. Dom stands beside it, holding the door open, wearing sunglasses and a suit that makes him look like a movie star. He smiles when he sees her, a real smile, and Allie's heart stutters.
"You came," he says.
"I said I would."
"I was not sure."
"You keep saying that. Do people usually break promises to you?"
Dom's smile fades. "Usually, yes."
Allie slides into the car. She does not know what to say to that. She does not know how to respond to a man who expects disappointment, who is surprised by simple decency.
They drive in silence. The restaurant is small, Italian, tucked away on a street Allie has never seen. The kind of place with no sign, just a door that opens into warmth and garlic and red checkered tablecloths.
"How did you find this place?" she asks.
"I own it." Dom shrugs, almost embarrassed. "My mother's favorite. She was Italian. From Naples. This was her recipe."
"You own a restaurant?"
"I own many things." Dom guides her to a corner booth, private, secluded. "But this one matters."
They sit. A waiter appears, pours wine Allie does not drink, brings bread that smells like heaven.
"Tell me about your mother," Allie says. Because it is safer than talking about them, about this, about whatever is happening here.
Dom is quiet for a moment. He breaks bread, but does not eat it. "She died when I was ten. Cancer. She was... she was the good part of my father. The kindness. Without her, he became harder. Colder. I became harder too."
"I am sorry."
"Do not be. It was a long time ago." But his voice is rough. "She would have liked you, I think. She valued strength. She would have seen yours."
"I am not strong. I am just surviving."
"That is what strength is, Allie. Survival. Day after day, when everything tells you to give up." Dom meets her eyes. "I know something about that."
Allie looks away. The intensity in his gaze is too much. It sees too much. "We should talk about work. The merger. The"
"I do not want to talk about work."
"Then what do you want?"
Dom leans forward. He takes her hand, carefully, giving her time to pull away. She does not. His skin is warm, rough in places, scarred in ways that suggest violence she does not want to imagine.
"I want to know you," he says. "The real you. Not the assistant, not the mother, not the woman who pretends she does not remember me. You."
Allie's breath catches. "I do not know what you mean."
"Yes, you do." Dom's thumb traces her palm, a feather-light touch that sends electricity up her arm. "Five years ago. The club. The hotel. You left before dawn, and you took something of mine."
Allie tries to pull her hand back. He holds on, gentle but firm.
"I have been looking for you," Dom says. "Every day, for five years. I hired investigators. I checked hospitals, records, anything I could think of. And then you walked into my office, wearing vanilla perfume and pretending not to know me, and I thought I was dreaming."
"Please," Allie whispers. "Please, I cannot..."
"You can. You are the bravest person I know. You raised two children alone. You moved to a new city. You walked into the lion's den and demanded a job." Dom's voice is soft, urgent. "Just tell me the truth. Do you remember? Do you remember me?"
Allie looks at him. Really looks at him. The man from that night, older now, harder now, but the same. The same eyes. The same mouth. The same way of looking at her like she is the only thing in the world.
"Yes," she admits. "I remember."
Dom closes his eyes. When he opens them, they are wet. "Thank you," he breathes. "Thank you for not lying."
"I should have told you. I should have said something. But I was scared. I am still scared." Allie pulls her hand free, wraps her arms around herself. "I did not know who you were. I did not know you were... this. Powerful. Dangerous. I thought you were just a man. Just a mistake I could run from."
"And now?"
"Now I work for you. Now I need this job. Now I have children who depend on me, and I cannot afford to be involved with my boss, with a criminal, with"
"I am not a criminal." The words are sharp, defensive. Then Dom sighs. "Not exactly. Not the way you think. The Bratva... it is complicated. My family... we have traditions. Obligations. But I am trying to change things. To make us legitimate. To build something that does not require blood."
"And have you? Succeeded?"
Dom laughs, a bitter sound. "No. I am still trapped. Still waiting to inherit a throne I do not want. Still playing a role I never chose." He looks at her, desperate. "But when I am with you, when I remember that night, I feel like myself again. Like there is still something good in me worth saving."
Allie does not know what to say. This is too much. Too fast. Too intense.
But she remembers too. She remembers feeling seen, feeling wanted, feeling like for one night she was not alone in the world.
"The twins," she says slowly. "Leo and Luna. They are..."
"I know." Dom's voice is gentle. "I did the math, Allie. I know they are mine."
Allie's world tilts. She stands up, knocking over her water glass. "I need to go. I need to"
"Please. Please do not run again." Dom stands too, reaches for her, stops himself. "I am not trying to take them from you. I am not trying to trap you. I just want to know them. To know you. To be part of your lives, if you will let me."
"You are a stranger. You are my boss. You are"
"I am their father." The words are simple, devastating. "Whether you like it or not. Whether I deserve it or not. I have missed five years. I have missed everything. Please, Allie. Do not make me miss more."
Allie stares at him. This man, this powerful, dangerous, desperate man, is begging her. For a chance. For forgiveness. For the right to be a father to children he has never met.
She thinks of Leo, checking locks at night. She thinks of Luna, asking about daddies. She thinks of the way they both light up when they see a father and child together, the way they pretend not to care.
She thinks of herself, alone for so long, carrying everything, wanting someone to share the weight.
"I need time," she says. "I need to think. This is... this is too much."
"Take all the time you need." Dom pulls out his wallet, drops cash on the table. "But Allie? I am not going anywhere. Not this time. I have waited five years to find you. I can wait longer for you to trust me."
He walks her to the car. He opens the door. He does not touch her, does not push, does not demand.
"Will you come back to work?" he asks.
"I do not know."
"If you do not, I will understand. But I hope you will. I hope..." he stops, swallows. "I hope you will give me a chance to prove I can be better. For you. For them."
Allie gets in the car. She does not look back as it pulls away, but she feels his eyes on her, watching, waiting, hoping.
She does not know what she is going to do.
She only knows that everything has changed. Again. Forever.
And this time, she is not sure she wants to run.