Klaus stepped into the apartment well past midnight.
The evening had been good.
Too good.
For a few hours, he'd managed to forget everything.
And the moment he crossed the threshold—it all slammed back into place.
In the dim kitchen, Grandma sat at the table, calmly slicing meat.
"Everyone asleep?"
"They are. Egor and Lilith spent the whole day messing with the computer. For once, I got some peace instead of listening to them snapping at each other."
"They don't get along?" Klaus frowned, grabbing a cup and starting the coffee.
She snorted.
"You really don't see a damn thing, do you?"
"I see enough to stay alive," he shot back.
"That's not what I mean."
He glanced at her.
"I'm talking about people. What they feel. What they want. How they look at you."
Klaus exhaled.
"I read people just fine."
"No. You don't."
Her voice cut sharper than he'd ever heard it.
"You read patterns. You measure risk. You figure out how to use people. But the most obvious thing—you miss completely."
Klaus turned fully.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about Egor."
A pause.
"You seriously don't see it?"
Klaus rubbed his temple.
"…That."
"Don't brush it off."
"I'm not," he snapped. "I've been paying attention. August already gave me the same lecture. What do you want from me?"
She set the knife down.
"How do you feel about him? And why are you pretending you don't give a damn?"
Klaus frowned.
"What happened today?" she pressed. "You go off, spend time with another man—and suddenly Egor doesn't matter? So it's not about him being male. Then what is it?"
Even for her, this wasn't easy.
But she didn't back down.
Klaus dragged a hand over his face.
"I'm not pretending anything. And I don't get why you're pushing this. You're his grandmother—you should be worried about him."
"I am."
"Then think for a second," Klaus snapped, irritation rising. "Do you understand what being close to me means for him? He's already a target just for standing next to me. If I let him get any closer, I'm putting a mark on his back myself."
"So you're pushing him away to protect him."
There was relief in her voice.
"Not just that," Klaus muttered. "It's more complicated. And I don't see why I should be discussing this with—"
"With an old woman?" she finished calmly.
He went quiet.
"…That's not what I meant."
"I'm his family," she said. "And today, for the first time, he told me something real. About you. He was scared I'd reject him—but he still said it."
Klaus looked away.
"Listen," he said sharply. "As far as I know, he's never even been with anyone. How the hell can he be sure? Maybe he just doesn't know any better. Maybe he thinks it's something—but it's not. What if I ruin his chance at a normal life? A wife. Kids."
He exhaled.
"I even told him to go to a brothel. He refused."
"You what?"
She stared at him.
"God, you really are that cold."
Klaus said nothing.
"That boy wouldn't have said a word if he wasn't sure," she went on. "It doesn't matter to him whether you're a man or a woman. He loves you."
Her gaze didn't waver.
"And what do you do? Offer him a prostitute. Go on a date with another man. Live in the same room with a girl who's clearly in love with you. And on top of that—you've got whatever the hell is going on with your own cousin."
Klaus stiffened.
She knew too much.
And none of it made him look good.
"I don't have time for this," he said finally. "Not until I deal with everything in Isorobia. He stays here."
A pause.
"And if he still feels the same after… I'll deal with it."
He hesitated.
"It's not that I refuse. It's just…"
He frowned.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to feel."
The words came out rough.
Honest.
More than he liked.
"These emotions—attachments—they're new. I don't know how to handle them. Not now."
For a moment, he sounded almost lost.
"But you don't get to choose the timing," she said more quietly. "Feelings don't wait until it's convenient."
She leaned back.
"Why did you suddenly decide to send him away?"
Klaus's expression darkened.
"Because it's dangerous. He almost died. More than once. Because of me. Who do you think my enemies will go after first?"
His voice sharpened.
"And I can't think straight when he's in danger. It throws me off completely. Damn it—why did you even let him go there?"
She watched him carefully.
He didn't look like a prince.
He looked cornered.
"So," she said calmly, "you got scared of something you didn't understand—and decided to get rid of it."
"That's not what I said."
"But that's exactly what you did."
Silence.
"Klaus," she continued, "you may not understand emotions—but I do. Fear of losing someone. The need to protect them. You don't feel that for just anyone."
"I never said he was just anyone," Klaus muttered. "But what do you want from me?"
He covered his face.
"I told you why. I told you what I'm going to do. Right now, I just want to sleep."
He stood.
"Klaus."
He stopped.
"Take him with you."
He turned sharply.
"…What?"
"Take Egor with you."
"Did you hear anything I just said?" Klaus snapped. "It's dangerous there."
"And it's not dangerous here?"
That stopped him.
"What do you mean?"
She met his gaze evenly.
"I'm old. I won't live forever. And when I'm gone—he's next."
Klaus went still.
"…Explain."
"You really think my connections came out of nowhere?" she said calmly. "My husband wasn't just 'connected.' He was a major figure in the criminal world. After he died, they came for the heir."
A pause.
"No one knew my son wasn't his blood."
Klaus frowned.
"Andrey's grandfather helped us disappear. For a while, we stayed hidden. Then they found us."
Her grip tightened on the table.
"They didn't care about me. But they weren't going to leave the heir alive."
Klaus felt something cold settle inside him.
"The car accident…"
"There was no accident."
Silence.
"They broke into the house. Shot my son. Shot Egor's mother. Put them in the car and burned it."
Klaus didn't speak.
"They wanted everything erased," she said quietly. "Egor survived because he was with me that day."
A long pause.
"He's safe while I'm alive. After that—he won't be."
Klaus looked at her.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I wasn't going to," she said. "And I don't want him to know. I don't want any of this touching him."
A pause.
"That's why I let him go with you. I saw how he looked at you."
She held his gaze.
"Klaus. Take him. As long as he's with you—he has a chance."
"You're not dying tomorrow," Klaus said slowly. "I can come back. Check on him—"
"And if something happens to you?"
He didn't answer.
"If something happens to me, he won't survive there either."
"He won't survive here," she said flatly. "At least with you, he has a chance."
Silence stretched.
"I'm willing to bet on you," she added. "And if you fail—then better he dies next to the one he chose than alone here."
Harsh.
But honest.
Klaus closed his eyes.
He pictured Egor here.
Living quietly.
Moving on.
It didn't sit right.
Then he pictured him dead.
That was worse.
The answer was obvious.
"…You're not leaving me much of a choice," he muttered.
"If I come back with both of them, August is going to kill me."
He said it lightly.
But there was tension under it.
Was this the right call—
Or just the one he wanted to be right?
"I'll keep Lilith," she said. "She'll adapt fast. And I could use the help."
A pause.
"Leave the portal. If needed, she can come back later."
Klaus let out a breath.
"I knew I shouldn't have come here."
"What was that?"
"Good night."
He turned toward the door.
"The day after tomorrow—we're leaving. Together."
"Thank you, Klaus."
He didn't answer.
He didn't understand what he was feeling.
Relief?
No.
Something lighter.
Warmer.
Wrong.
He should've been annoyed. Frustrated. His plan had just fallen apart.
So why was his heart beating faster?
Why was he smiling?
…Maybe she was right.
Maybe it wasn't just attachment.
There was only one way to find out.