"A house is only as strong as the secrets it can bury."_Unknown
The light in the library was soft, filtered through gauzy curtains. Maeve sat alone at the long oak table, a book open but untouched. Levi entered quietly, his steps purposeful but gentle — as if not to spook a bird.
She looked up when he sat across from her.
"We haven't really spoken… not properly." he started.
Maeve blinked, closing the book slightly, wary but curious.
"I figured you weren't the talking type." she responded.
Levi, with a ghost of a smile, "I'm not. But… I want to understand who I married."
A pause. He studied her face — calm, distant, as if hiding behind glass.
"Your parents. I know they're gone. But I don't know what happened… or how you got through it." he said, watching her reaction to him mentioning her parents.
Her fingers grazed the edge of the page. Her posture stiffened.
"I know it's a sensitive subject. You don't have to answer." He said.
"It's fine. I was young. I don't really remember them. Must have felt heartbroken at that time, but time heals broken hearts." She said.
She didn't look at him when she said it.
"Did you have any friends from back then? Maybe from University?"
There was a pause.
One heartbeat.
Two.
She shook her head, eyes dropping to her lap.
"I didn't go to university. Things were tight… financially. It just wasn't in the cards." She said. "There's not much to know about me—my life has been more on the quiet side."
He didn't call her out. Didn't let her know he already knew the truth. Her lie wasn't for deceit —— it was for survival. To keep her dignity.
"Still… Thank you. For leaving what you were doing to talk to me."
He rose from the library table, his mind reeling from Maeve's quiet admission — she never went to university. She said it like it didn't matter, like it wasn't worth explaining. But Levi could see through that. It wasn't just a lack of opportunity. It was something deeper. Something deliberately hidden.
He was just about to exit the library when a voice echoed from the hallway.
"Bring the lady out, little brother. I want to meet the one making you less grumpy."
Levi paused.
Maeve blinked and looked up. "You have a brother?"
Levi glanced back at her. "Not exactly one I would talk about."
She raised her brows in quiet curiosity, but didn't ask anything. Levi brought out his hand, motioning for her to follow.
They stepped into the entryway, where a tall man in a black coat stood. He was handsome, an inch shorter than Levi. His beautiful auburn hair roughened a little. A familiar smirk on his face. Mikhail.
He turned, eyes falling on Maeve. A low whistle escaped his lips.
"Well, damn," Mikhail said, smiling. "She's beautiful."
Maeve flushed slightly and offered a polite smile. "Thank you."
"I'm Mikhail Gazdanov," he said, nodding in her direction. "Sadly related to this guy." He jerked his thumb toward Levi.
Maeve smiled politely. "I'm Maeve."
"Lovely name. Very un-Gazdanov." He said playfully.
"My wife sends her regards. She couldn't make it — something about not wanting to breathe 'inheritance dust.'" He chuckled to himself.
Levi placed a hand gently on Maeve's lower back.
"Don't let us disturb you any longer— You can return to the library."
She nodded at Mikhail and took her leave.
Once she was out of sight, Levi turned and led Mikhail into his study.
Inside, Mikhail wandered toward the liquor tray without waiting for permission, pouring himself a drink. Levi stood by the window, hands in his pockets, back straight.
"She's soft," Mikhail said after a beat.
Levi's eyes flicked to him. "Don't talk about her."
Mikhail raised both hands in surrender. "Just saying. You've changed."
"Well I have no one trying to end my life. Internally that is." Levi said.
"Do you remember when Vadim died?" He asked, voice even.
Mikhail glanced at him, glass paused near his lips. "I remember you called and said, 'He's gone.' That's all."
Levi's jaw clenched. "He had a heart attack. Right in front of me. Could barely breathe — wheezing like some choked-out animal. His face turned red, eyes wild. He dropped from his chair, crawling toward his pills on the center table."
Mikhail said nothing.
"I stood there," Levi continued. "Didn't move. Just watched. A smile on my face. First time in years."
Mikhail finally took a slow sip.
"He died trying to live," Levi said flatly.
There was a pause before Mikhail spoke. "The will."
"Yeah." Levi turned from the window. "Only one son could inherit the empire — if he married. You were out. You wanted to live differently. And Marc..."
"Marc was always greedy," Mikhail muttered.
"He said he wasn't interested, but he was scheming. Paid off my men. Bought my former assistant. The plan was to sedate me, leave me for dead in some forgotten place. Marc would swoop in and 'grieve' his way into the throne."
Mikhail stiffened slightly.
Levi's gaze was ice. "One of the younger Men overheard. Anton. I let the assistant play his part. Took me out to the site. As soon as he pulled out the needle in the car, I stabbed him straight in the heart."
Mikhail raised an eyebrow.
"Marc arrived, cocky and smiling," Levi went on. "Thought I was drugged. Came close to whisper something, maybe gloat. I shot him — near his heart. Not enough to kill him fast."
Mikhail stared quietly.
"He panicked. Tried to reach for his gun. I kicked him down. Watched him bleed on the floor."
Levi's voice dropped lower.
" And blew his skull open."
'Pereday pape privet ot menya.'
('Say hello to dad for me.') Levi had said coldly.
The silence afterward was thick. Heavy.
Mikhail finally spoke, voice quieter now. "You always were the quiet one. But never soft."
Levi looked away. "Now you understand. Why I don't trust anyone. Why I chose her. Someone who will just stay by my side, without me worrying much about betrayal."
Mikhail studied his brother carefully.
"You still don't sleep, do you?"
Levi didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
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