Page 68 of His Son's Ex

She studies me for a beat, then nods to a nearby chair, signaling for me to sit. I stay standing. The caretaker slips out, quietly shutting the door behind her.

“Answers,” Galina repeats with a humorless smile. “Your family cost the Petrovs everything. We owe you nothing.”

My chest tightens. “I know. I’m here about Eva Petrova.”

A flicker of recognition crosses her face before quickly vanishing.“Eva Petrova is dead.”

“That’s the official story,” I say, “but it’s not true. She’s alive. She changed her name to Eva Smith.”

Galina’s mouth flattens into a thin line. She doesn’t say a word. Instead, she slowly rises and moves to a tall cabinet. She unlocks it, shuffling through a few boxes before lifting out a worn file. “I kept these from the old days. The Abramovic’s inherited the Petrov estate, but most of their things were destroyed.”

She sets the file on the desk and opens it carefully. Faded photographs spill out, my breath catching when I see a small blonde girl with wide eyes and a bright smile—definitely Eva. Maybe six or seven years old, clinging to a man I assume is her father. Another picture of Eva with her mother’s arms wrapped around her, both beaming at the camera.

“She was bright, that one,” Galina says, wistfully. “Rumor had it she vanished during the war, and vanish she did.”

My throat tightens.

“Officially, she was declared dead, but many suspected she survived. Now, here you are, telling me she’s alive and using a new name.”

“She was declared dead, but the body was never found,” I say, more to myself than Galina. For a moment, all I can do is stare at the photos. My Eva. Younger, innocent. We ruined her life and she’s probably carried that knowledge for years.

Galina’s expression hardens as she gathers the images and slides them back into the file. “You can look, but you can’t take them.”

“That’s fine.” I glance up. “So she’s the only surviving Petrov?”

She nods grimly. “Seems so.” Her eyes narrow. “Why do you care, Bellacino? Why are you here, asking all these questions?”

Because I love her.The words appear in my mind unbidden.

“I can’t tell you why, I just needed to know,” is all I can manage.

We lock eyes for a tense second then Galina waves me off. “Take your answers and go. We have nothing left to discuss.”

She’s right. My head is pounding, my heart thudding in my chest.

“Thank you,” I say, before turning to leave.

My conscience is shattered.

I can’t breathe.

Eva is the daughter of a man my family helped kill.

I was there.I can’t even process the weight of it.

My staff must notice my turmoil because nobody meets my gaze as I walk down the corridor to my office. They sense I’m in a mood and make it a point to avoid me.

Good. I don’t wish to be bothered.

Finally, I reach my office and slam the door shut. My phone’s been buzzing with messages—some of them from my men, others from business associates. I ignore them all.

I punch the intercom. “Janine, have Ms. Smith come to my office. Immediately.”

My assistant starts to say something about Eva’s schedule, but I interrupt her. “I said now.”

I’m pacing my office, heart pounding in my ears when Eva steps in. She looks tense, her brow furrowed. There’s a flush to her cheeks, a fragility to her I’ve never seen before. It tugs at me, but anger and betrayal override my concern.

“Dante—” she starts.

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