It was always written ✔️

Chapter 40

HAPPY NEW YEAR GUYS 🎉

HOPEFULLY THIS YEAR BRINGS BETTER THINGS FOR US ALL!

~~~

She briskly walked to the door of the one person that could protect her son. Her eyes kept her guard, she had not one weapon on her.

It was a habit she had dropped long ago, thinking she was safe. A habit that was due to return.

She rattled the knocker, praying he was in. The moment the door opened a crack she barged her way in, slamming the door shut behind her.

"I'm sorry, but please," She held her son forward for him to collect in his arms, "protect him with your life."

"Of course."

"Someone has survived. Possibly built the empire back to its original strength. They've returned for the rightful heir."

She watched his hold tighten around her son.

"Xavier, we will be fine." He was one of Mikhail's allies, one of the men that he had brought with him when he had returned to marry her.

"We can't escape the past, can we? Will it remain this never-ending cycle that just never stops? Can we ever have its claws removed from our sides?" He wondered aloud, as Alayna's mind whirled with the worst possible scenarios.

"I hope we can escape, because if we don't the past will surely consume us."

She turned to her son.

"Uncle Xavi is going to take care of you for a couple of days, ok baby? Remember, Mumma loves you, Mumma loved your dad. She loved everyone. Don't forget that please. Don't let them make you believe I was entirely evil. I love you, I really do just as every mother does."

"Don't go please." His squeaky voice stopped her from leaving.

"I have to baby, but when I'm back. From then, I won't leave you."

"Promise."

"Let God take my life if I try to run after that."

The young boy didn't understand the weight of his mother's words, nor was he likely to remember them. But she was honest when she spoke those words. There was not an ounce of a lie.

She spotted a black jacket that would help her blend into the shadows.

"I'm taking your jacket."

And that would be the last he will hear from her mouth.

She slipped out from his back door. Jumping fences and going through alleyways filled with men.

She eventually made it home. She let herself in. And walked over to him as she had rehearsed in her mind.

He looked up, looking at his distorted beloved through his teary eyes.

"Tell me we're in a dream, a nightmare in fact, cause this is a battle I don't think I can fight and definitely win."

The distress weaned off his aura.

She watched, unsure of how they were going to deal with this qayamat.

She sat beside him, he hadn't moved from that spot she first discovered him in.

Leaning her head upon his shoulder, this is what she did to tell him she was tired.

It was a different kind of tired this time. A fatigue that may never leave her body. She took the paper, this wasn't the Romanov emblem, this had a knife posing as the rose's stem.