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CLXXXI : aching laughter, restless monsters
Last Updated:
2025-04-27 23:53:41
Latest chapter
His Son, Her Secret CCXII : Glasswater
We went to Gosausee the morning. A mountain lake hidden like the most beautiful secret in the heart of Salzkammergut. The black car driven by the Romanov family’s local chauffeur glided slowly along the narrow, winding roads, through spruce forests and rocky slopes that looked like they’d been painted with a lazy summer brush.When we arrived, I was the first to get out of the car and froze.“Oh my God…”I didn’t even realize I said it out loud.“You look like a tourist seeing water for the first time.” Pascha said.“Because this isn’t water. This is… liquid glass.”Gosausee stretched out in front of me like another world fallen from the sky. The water was crystal clear, reflecting the blue sky, the towering Dachstein peaks in the distance, and the silent pine trees lining the shore.I stepped onto the small wooden dock, looked up, then quickly lifted my phone and started taking pictures.Once. Twice. Three times. Then switched to panorama mode.“Pchelka,” Pascha sighed lazily, “this
His Son, Her Secret CCXI : Silent Alps, Louder Love
The Romanov private jet rolled slowly across the small airstrip owned by an old Austrian noble family, just a few kilometers from Hallstatt. Through the cabin’s oval window, I could see the crystal blue lake that seemed to reflect heaven itself, framed by the Alps, their peaks still snow-covered even though summer still hung warmly in the air.Pascha sat across from me, his white shirt rolled up to the elbows, legs crossed, one hand holding a glass of white wine from the Romanov family’s private vineyard. He had just pointed toward the village that looked like a miniature fairytale in the distance.“That’s where we’ll be staying,” he said, his tone half-serious, half overly pleased. “A little castle that once served as the exile home of a rebellious prince. Fitting for my rebellious wife.”I threw a pillow at him. “Are you calling this a honeymoon or a romantic military camp?”“Both,” he replied, catching the pillow as it landed on his chest. “But without guns. Just love and potential
His Son, Her Secret CCX : If Love Smells Like Broth
I stood on the right side of the large marble table, slicing onions at a speed that made the knife nearly silent. Clara was on the other side, kneading pelmeni dough with the focused look of a professional chef competing on a cooking show.Natalia—or maybe I should start calling her “Mama”—stood between us, wearing an ivory apron embroidered with the Romanov’s signature winged lion at the edge. Her hands were busy mixing dumpling filling, but her eyes watched the way I was preparing the borscht soup.“You’re still very skilled in the kitchen,” she said. “It seems your talents have only grown.”I chuckled, looking at the pot of slowly boiling broth. “When you live alone with a toddler for four years, you learn things college never taught you.”“Exactly,” Clara chimed in without looking up. “Belva runs her kitchen like a military operation. Breakfast at seven, lunch at twelve, and don’t even think about bothering her when she’s making soup. You might get kicked out of the house.”Natali
His Son, Her Secret CCIX : handsome, dangerous, and unforgivably mine
Pascha’s room still smelled exactly the same as it did years ago. A blend of damp cedar, and something unmistakably masculine, undeniably Pascha Romanov. I stood at the of the tall, open window, letting the late afternoon light filter through the pine branches and brush against my face. From here, I could see the backyard.Natalia sitting on the stone bench, her silver hair fluttering gently in the breeze, while Alexandr, wrapped in a long wool coat, hoisted Max up onto his shoulders. Max laughed like there was no world beyond the safety of his grandfather’s shoulders. Mischa stood nearby, swatting at fir branches with one hand, chattering away to Trisha.Behind me, Pascha was stretched out on the bed. Shirtless, of course. Always shirtless. His hair was slightly tousled from his bad habit of running his fingers through it whenever he was deep in thought. The tablet in his hand glowed with graphs and data way too complex for me to understand, but his eyes kept flicking toward me fro
His Son, Her Secret CCVIII : Cece Knew. And So Did Everyone Else.
Igor calmly sliding a hefty piece of meat onto each of Max and Mischa's plates. “You both have meat now. If you keep fighting, I’ll eat everything.”Down at the end of the table, I was quietly spooning tasteless salad onto my plate and staring at Clara.She sat calmly across from me, lazily nibbling at a bite of stroganoff like she had nowhere better to be. No guilt on her face. No attempt to explain anything. Just silence and the peaceful expression of a professional traitor.I leaned in slightly, eyes sharp. “Cece,” I called her, “you... kissed... Igor.”She just took another bite, one brow arched like it was no big deal. “I know.”Before I could kick her under the table, Natalia chuckled and gently patted my hand.“Belva, sweetheart... you should’ve known. We’ve known Clara long before you hired her.”I blinked. “What?”Natalia turned to her husband, who simply nodded while slicing his steak like there wasn’t a full-blown drama exploding two feet away.“She worked with Pascha,” Na
His Son, Her Secret CCVII : if i jump, will the snow catch me again?
The SUV glided slowly through the chilly Moscow streets, Max sat on Pascha’s lap in the middle seat, pointing out the window. “Is that Grandma and Grandpa’s house, Daddy?” “That’s the boring ambassador’s house,” Pascha answered, one arm around Max. “Ours is deeper into the forest.”Max frowned. “They live in a forest? Like… like ELSA?”Pascha chuckled. “Elsa didn’t have a security system like the Romanov Mansion.”I sat next to them, Mischa curled gently in my lap. Her soft curls brushed against my chin, warm and silky. She was fast asleep... and what surprised me most was that she had actually asked for it earlier.“Tetyaa... hold me. I wanna sleep on your lap,” she had whispered at the airport before we landed.And I could never refuse Mischa when she got that soft.Meanwhile Clara was passed out in the backseat.Outside the window, the city lights were slowly giving way to tall trees and old stone walls. The streets of Moscow always reminded me of things unfinished..My mind start
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