Page 37 of Perfect Stalker

I nod, deciding honesty is the best approach. “Ivan mentioned he doesn’t have any family photos or albums. Just one photo of him with another boy at an orphanage?—”

“Alexei,” says Marcus to my shock. “They were both at ‘St. Sergius’s Orphanage’ for a while and became friends. Ivan convinced Vyacheslav to let Alexei work for him too.”

“He keeps the picture because Alexei was important to him then?”

“Maybe, but mostly, I think it’s a reminder that trusting anyone leaves you weak.” Marcus seems unconcerned about that lesson, though it hurts my heart to imagine Ivan so jaded.

“I see.” I hadn’t expected that and will have to remember not to include that picture in my project—if I can find any pertinent photos for Ivan to make the photo album. “Okay, so I’d like to put together some of his past for him. I thought maybe I could find some photos, but I don’t know how to begin.”

Something shifts in his expression—a softening around the eyes, and a slight relaxation of his jaw. “It won’t be easy,” he says gruffly. “Russian orphanage records aren’t exactly public, and Ivan’s past isn’t simple.”

“I know, but it’s important. To me, and I think to him, even if he doesn’t realize it yet.”

He studies me for another long moment before nodding. “I can help. I’ve got some contacts who might be able to dig up information, but,” He leans forward, his voice serious, “You need to understand what you’re getting into. Ivan’s past is dark. There are things he might not want you to know.”

I shudder but push through the fear. “I understand, and I’m prepared for that.”

He nods again, seemingly satisfied with my response. “All right. I’ll reach out to my contacts to see what I can find, but this stays between us, understood? Ivan can’t know about this. Not yet.”

“Of course. I want it to be a surprise too. Thank you, Marcus. Really.”

Back in my room, I sink onto the plush bed. What will Marcus find? What secrets lurk in Ivan’s past? Will that knowledge change things between us?

I close my eyes, picturing Ivan as a child—alone, scared, and bouncing from one orphanage to another. My heart aches forthat little boy, and for the man he’s become. Whatever Marcus uncovers, I vow to myself that I’ll use it to help Ivan, not hurt him.

A couple of days later,I stare at my phone, my stomach churning with nausea. The image on the screen is so graphic, so violent, that for a moment I can’t process what I’m seeing. Stephen’s face, contorted with rage and lust, looms over a figure that’s unmistakably me. The knife in his hand glints wickedly as it plunges into my chest while he’s forcefully entering me from behind. I want to look away, to delete it and pretend I never saw it, but I force myself to keep looking.

My finger hovers over the delete button. It would be so easy to erase this, to push it from my mind and pretend it never happened, but I can’t. This isn’t just a threat—it’s evidence that Stephen is dangerous, unhinged, and fixated on me.

I sink onto the couch, my legs suddenly too weak to support me. The penthouse feels cavernous and empty, even though I know Andre and Daniil are just outside the door. I long for Ivan’s presence, for the safety I feel when he’s near, but he’s in a meeting, unreachable for at least another hour.

My hands shake as I set down the phone on the coffee table. I need to tell Ivan about this. He needs to know Stephen is escalating, that even Ivan’s protection isn’t enough to break his obsession.

The thought of showing Ivan this image makes me quiver. When Ivan sees this... I shudder. He won’t just be angry. He’ll be murderous, and as much as I want Stephen to pay for what he’sdone, and for the fear he’s caused, I can’t bear the thought of Ivan risking everything—his freedom, his empire, and our future—because of my psychotic ex.

I pace the living room. How do I tell Ivan about this without pushing him over the edge? How do I protect myself without putting him in danger? Lost in my thoughts, I plow into an end table and knock off a cement bust, crying out when pain flares in my knee. Thankfully, the statue fares better than my leg.

A knock at the door startles me out of my thoughts. “Miss Graham?” Andre’s deep voice calls out. “Is everything okay in there?”

I inhale and exhale before speaking, trying to steady my voice. “Yes, everything’s fine. Just...just dropped something.”

There’s a pause, and I can almost feel Andre’s skepticism through the door. “All right. Let us know if you need anything.”

I wait until I hear his footsteps retreating before I collapse back onto the couch. My gaze falls on my phone again, the screen now dark but the image still burned into my mind. I need to tell Ivan, but I have to figure out how to break it to him first.

CHAPTER 14

IVAN

Isit at my desk, reviewing security reports when Jenny enters my office. Her chestnut hair cascades over her shoulders, framing her face beautifully. My heart skips a beat at the sight of her.

“Ivan, I’m going Christmas shopping with my mother this afternoon,” she says, a hint of hesitation in her voice.

I pause, considering her words. The thought of her leaving the safety of my protection makes me uneasy, but I can’t keep her caged. She’s not a prisoner, after all, and this is her mother. She deserves that connection—the kind I can only envy, since the closest I came was Lena. All memories of my mother are gone from my mind, since she was dead before I was old enough to really remember her.

“Very well,” I say, keeping my tone neutral. “Andre and Daniil will accompany you.”

Jenny nods, relief washing over her features. “Thank you. I won’t be gone long.”

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