Page 42 of Taming a Ruthless Heart

Shaking my head to get rid of these thoughts, I slip my shoes on and step into the corridor.Alexia leaves her room down the corridor and our gazes meet.

I watch her approach as she adjusts her silk top on her shoulders.She keeps her eyes on mine.There’s a softness in her gaze, laced with something unreadable.I feel the ground slipping out from under me.I’ve spent my whole life in control, always knowing what my next move would be, always having a plan.But with her?There’s no plan.No strategy.Just hope.

And hope fucking terrifies me.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon fills the air as I guide Alexia down the wide wooden staircase, her hand lightly resting in mine.The quiet hum of the mansion surrounds us, a calm that feels foreign but necessary after everything we’ve been through.For now, this is our sanctuary, a world apart from the danger waiting just outside these walls.

As we reach the bottom of the stairs, the sound of excited voices floats through the hall.It isn’t coming from the kitchen.Curious, I follow the sound, leading Alexia toward the sunroom—a bright, airy space at the far end of the house, with floor-to-ceiling windows that let the sunlight flood in, painting the room in golden hues.

Inside, Rose and Pete are already seated at the round wrought-iron table, their small hands clutching cups of chocolate milk as they eagerly wait for breakfast.Fran is bustling about, placing plates of fresh fruit and waffles onto the table, while Nadya sits nearby, sipping her coffee with a soft smile.Judy, one of the newer members of the house staff, hovers close by, setting down a jug of freshly squeezed orange juice with care.

“Morning, boss,” Fran greets, glancing over her shoulder at me with a knowing smile.“The kids insisted on having breakfast in the sunroom today.They said it’s too pretty not to use.”

I raise an eyebrow at that and glance at Alexia beside me.The sunroom serves as a retreat for quiet moments, not a place for meals, but I can’t deny the appeal.The sunlight streaming through the arched windows, the view of the sprawling garden just beyond—it feels peaceful.And peaceful is a rare commodity we can use right now.

“More work for you, Fran,” I start, my voice cautious.“We could have just eaten in the dining room.”

Fran waves away my concern, already reaching for the coffee pot.“Don’t you worry about that.I’m delighted to do it.Besides, I’ve got Judy to help.”She shoots a warm smile at Judy.The younger woman blushes and tucks a stray strand of black hair that has escaped the tight bun on her nape.

“No trouble at all, Mr.Boyle,” Judy adds softly as she places a basket of warm croissants on the table.

Alexia squeezes my arm, her eyes drifting toward Rose, who beams up at her mother from her seat.The sight of Rose’s pure, unrestrained joy eases the tension in my chest.It’s heartwarming to see her so carefree, simply being a child.

“All right,” I relent, my voice softer.“The sunroom it is.”

Alexia takes the seat next to Rose, her hand automatically brushing a lock of blonde hair from her daughter’s face as she settles in.I sit beside Alexia, my knee brushing against hers as I reach for my coffee.That small touch—a fleeting brush of skin—sends a high-voltage current through me, though I try to ignore it.

“Mama, look!”Rose squeals, her emerald eyes shining with excitement as they sweep the place.“We’re having breakfast in the sunroom!Isn’t it pretty?”

Alexia smiles, her expression soft and maternal.“It is, moy zaychik,” she replies, her voice warm and loving.“It’s very beautiful.”

Across from Rose, Nadya is pouring syrup over Pete’s waffles.The little boy laughs as the golden liquid overflows and pools around his plate.

Nadya shakes her head in feigned seriousness.“Pete loves his waffles drowned in syrup.”

Pete grins, clearly undeterred.“But that’s the best way to eat them, right, Rose?”

Rose giggles, nodding enthusiastically.“Yeah!Lots of syrup!”She leans toward Nadya, eyes wide and earnest.“Nadya, do you think we’ll see butterflies in the garden today?Pete says they’re his friends!”

Nadya guffaws, reaching to ruffle Rose’s hair.“With friends like Pete, I’d bet on it.”

Standing opposite me while holding a jar of orange juice, Fran chuckles.Her gaze has turned even softer as she watches the kids interact.“These two are a pair of troublemakers, I swear.”She sets the jar on the table before retreating to the kitchen, with a wide grin still on her lips.

As the kids dig into their breakfast, the mood in the room becomes more relaxed.Alexia’s shoulders loosen up, the usual tension lifting from her posture.She isn’t constantly flinching at every sound.For the first time since I rescued her four days ago, she looks totally at ease.

I take a sip of my coffee, the rich bitterness grounding me as I watch her.The sunlight catches in her hair, making it glow like a halo.The cliché fits her to perfection, though, with her delicate features and the gentleness in her expression.I haven’t seen that in too long, and it stirs something deep inside me.I’ve spent years burying my emotions, locking them away behind walls of indifference and cold calculation.But now, sitting here with Alexia and Rose, those walls feel like they’re crumbling, piece by piece.

I can’t help but let my gaze wander, tracing the soft curves of her face, the way her fingers cradle the mug of piping hot latte, the faint laugh lines around her eyes that still charm me.Memories of the past flood my mind.Before everything went to hell.I’ve been good at pretending I’ve moved on.But in moments like this, with her just inches away from me, it’s hard to deny the pull toward her that has never really died.

“You seem more comfortable this morning,” I murmur, careful not to push too hard.I don’t want to break the fragile peace we’ve found.

Alexia glances at me, her hazel eyes still guarded.“I think…” She hesitates, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee mug.“I feel… safer here.”

Safer.Not safe.It’s a small difference, but it hits me hard.She doesn’t feel completely secure with me.Not with everything Igor has done.And I can’t blame her for that.But I will change it.I have to.

The kids’ laughter fills the air, but my attention is focused solely on Alexia.She’s letting her guard down, just a little, and that’s a victory.A small one, but it’s a start.Physical protection is one thing.Emotional security—that’s a different battle entirely.

“Rose seems happy,” I say, my voice low, testing the waters.

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