“Well, Vlad, took you long enough to get here.”

For a long moment, Vladimir simply stood before the hospital door he’d just shut and stared at the sight that met his gaze. His father lie propped up on numerous pillows, his skin a little pale. His smile, however, remained unchanged. His wife sat by his side, clutching his hand, her eyes red from grief.

How the hell could he be smiling? Vlad was caught somewhere between wanting to throttle the older man and wanting to collapse at his bedside. Ultimately, he decided on neither, merely swallowing thickly before he answered. “Father.”

“Come, have a seat, won’t you?” Jackson patted an empty spot next to him on the bed and Vlad reluctantly crossed the room, a torrid mixture of feelings churning in his gut. Briefly, he bent to tug his mother into his arms for a brief hug, noticing that, not once, did she let go of his father’s hand.

Slowly, he sank down next to his father, looking over his familiar face as he tried to drum up his anger. Somehow, try as Vlad might, it wouldn’t come. “How bad is it?”

Jackson sighed, leaning back against his pillows. “Stage III Hepatic Cancer - told me about six or seven months ago. I’ve been doing my best to hit all my treatments, and they tell me I’ve got a good prognosis for a man my age.”

Vlad felt his throat constrict as he clenched at the thin coverlet beneath him with a fist, trying to gather his wits about him. This wasn’t a business deal. It wasn’t a paper he could sign off on or a problem that he could fix with a logical solution. This...this was life; and he was helpless before it. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“My dear boy, why would I?” Jackson patted his son’s shoulder gently. “My sons have a company to run. Lucas has a life to discover...you all have your own paths to tread. There’s nothing to be gained by worrying any of you - especially you, Vladimir. You carry so much on your shoulders already.”

“Is this…” Vladimir forced himself to ask the question, though his chest felt too tight to draw a decent breath, “Is this why you announced your retirement?”

Jackson nodded unabashedly. “The company will run smoothly with you at its head, Vladimir, regardless of what happens to me. The family will run smoothly.”

If Vladimir felt anxious about the passing of the torch before, that was nothing compared to what he felt now. He had always imagined that his father would be present to guide him in the right direction, regardless of his retirement. Now, he had to face the possibility of losing him altogether.

It was a devastating blow. One that he certainly hadn’t been expecting the moment he returned from Russia.

Before he’d gotten the call, Vladimir had quite a lot on his plate already. He meant to get back into the swing of things Stateside and resume his management of the LA building. First and foremost, however, he had planned to speak to Charlotte - to convince her of the futility of their continuing their intimacy once they returned to the city.

He had allowed himself to deviate from his typical beliefs in Russia -  been overcome by the most powerful desire he’d ever known. But things were different back in the US - they had to be different. If he was carrying the mantle of his father’s company on his shoulders, that reputation had to come first...and it certainly wouldn’t be helped by sleeping with the lead architect on his project.

But Vlad had put the conversation off. He meant to have it in the taxi on the way to the airport, and then on the flight itself...but he couldn’t bring himself to start it. While he knew that Charlotte wasn’t the type to throw a tantrum or be unreasonable, he was loathed to retract the comfort they had found in one another.

While they were together, Charlotte reminded him that he wasn’t just in the running to be CEO of a billion-dollar corporation. That he wasn’t just the face of Kensley Enterprises. She was living proof that there were times where he could just be a man...and he didn’t want to give that up.

That was, perhaps, why he’d brought her with him.

At the time, he hadn’t been thinking straight. He had only known what Ethan had told him, and that he hadn’t ever heard his brother sounding so desolate. There wasn’t very much that disturbed Vladimir, but his short conversation with Ethan had been enough to do just that. He hadn’t been able to fathom the idea of going to New York alone.

And so, as selfish as it had been, he brought Charlotte with him.

He was shocked, even now, by the powerful urge to lose himself in her. To block out the pain and uncertainty of the situation he now found himself faced with and pretend, if just for a few hours, that everything was going to be alright.

But he had no way of knowing that.

“Don’t look so glum, Vlad.” Jackson gave him the same benevolent smile that he had for the past twenty-two years, and, embarrassingly, Vlad felt his gut seizing in grief. “I’m not dead yet.”

“That’s not funny, Jackson.” The older man’s wife warbled from his side, still clutching his hand tightly. “I’ll have you know that when you get better, I’m going to pummel the life from you.”

“Of course you will, lovebug.” Jackson turned to smile at her, stroking her hair gently. “I can’t wait.”

Vladimir couldn’t stay here. After rushing three thousand miles to be by his father’s side, the site of him in a hospital bed was almost too much for him. He needed some air. “I’ll tell the others to come in and see you.” He stood abruptly, hating the feeling of helplessness that seemed to grow inside him with each passing moment. “They’ll be happy to see you up and talking.”

“Of course,” Jackson returned, his voice just as calm as it had ever been. The man wasn’t even ruffled by this proof of his mortality, and it was just like him. Infuriatingly like him. “You don’t have to stay, you know, Vlad. I’m alright now, and we can keep you posted just as easily from LA. I know you’re still busy there, and Charlotte-”

“Charlotte is here with me, father,” Vladimir cut him off dully, his chest growing even tighter. “Charlie has handled things for a couple of weeks. He can handle them a while longer. This is...important.” With that, he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Outside, his family was watching him with anxious faces. “You can go in now,” He spoke in a quiet, terse tone. “Did someone call Toshiro?”

“He’s doing all he can to get here,” Lucas answered him. “But his flight’s been delayed. It’ll probably be another twenty-four hours.”

With a stiff nod, Vladimir turned from them, making his way towards the nearest door he could find. It led to a dimly lit staircase and, after several flights, that staircase led to the roof. Outside, the night air was cool and crisp.

He had never wanted a drink so badly in his life.

Thankfully, no one else was on the roof, and Vladimir leaned against the edge of the waist-high brick partition encircling it and drew in a deep, steadying breath.

How had everything gone downhill so quickly? His time in Russia had been idyllic compared to what he had returned to. And now he found himself questioning everything he knew. His father knew he was sick for almost six months before this little incident forced him to reveal himself. What did that mean for the company? What did it mean for their family?

Even he, the staunch workaholic, wanted to stop everything to be by his father’s side, but he knew that he couldn’t. The most he had was a week or two before he would be forced to return to LA - to re-immerse himself in the process that would put him at the head of his father’s company come hell or high water.

Or even his death.

It was hard to even contemplate such a thing - his father dying. Vlad knew he wasn’t a child, and that Jackson Kensley was almost seventy. He had lived a long, full life...but that didn’t mean that his sons and wife were ready to let him go.

He had always judged himself in the efficiency with which he handled every situation thrown at him - there had never been anything that Vladimir Kensley couldn’t handle.

But he had no idea how on earth to tackle this.

After about ten minutes, he heard the door to the roof open and close again and then, Charlotte was by his side. She said nothing, merely leaning against the brickwork with him as the breeze played through her mussed auburn curls. Wordlessly, she reached over to take his hand in hers.

The effect was astounding and instantaneous. The terrifying thoughts that assaulted him, the responsibility that threatened to weigh him down until there was nothing left of him...those things seemed to lessen, somehow. To dim. And all at once, there was nothing but her and him, and the grounding grip of her fingers on his.

A good ten minutes or so passed until she finally spoke with him, and, when she did, she didn’t utter a single word about his father. “I’m going to find a hotel somewhere nearby and bunk down. Call Charlie and make sure he’s got the timeline for the next week or so of construction. Do you want me to stay here for a while?”

He realized, quite suddenly, that no one in his family knew who she was. Only Toshiro had met her, and he was still on his way from Africa. Vladimir hadn’t the wherewithal to introduce her - he was far too absorbed in trying to digest this startling turn of events. In effect, Charlotte had merely stood there and let herself be stared at and speculated on. It must have crossed her mind more than once how selfish he had been to demand that she come with him.

And still, she uttered not a single accusation. She didn’t even demand to know why she was here.

“There’s no need to book a hotel,” He finally managed, his throat oddly thick. “You can call Charlie just as easily from the manor. I’ll make arrangements for you to stay with us.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened a moment before she began to protest. “Vladimir, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t want to-”

“You’re staying in the manor, Charlotte. Don’t argue...I’m not in the mood.”

And, just like that, she fell silent. As boisterous and difficult as the redhead could be, she knew when to use tact.

It was a skill he had always lacked. “Alright. I still need to call Charlie, though. I’ll give you and your family privacy. Be in the lobby if you need me.” She released his hand to leave and he felt suddenly bereft. Everything came roaring back and Vladimir reached out to take her in his arms and quiet the chaos once more.

When he kissed her, she let him lose himself in the taste of her. He was far from his usual painstakingly groomed self and he needed a showed desperately, but Charlotte didn’t care. She drank from him no less hungrily, and when they finally parted, Vladimir found himself even more reluctant to send her away.

Jesus, the last twenty-four hours had scrambled his brain. He could hardly think in a straight line anymore. The divisions between what he needed and what he wanted were suddenly an amorphous blur that made his gut churn and his head ache.

And there was no reprieve in sight.

Vladimir stayed at the hospital for the next two hours, discussing their plans for the upcoming weeks. Ethan had made sure that everything was being handled in Manhattan so he could stay at the manor as well, and Alistair, despite having come from Texas, told them he could stay as long as he needed to. Vlad didn’t see the need to question the woman who had come with Ethan - the fact that she was there spoke volumes, and this was hardly the time to instigate an interrogation.

She introduced herself as Harper Jones - Athena’s elder sister - and Vlad wondered briefly at the connection.

Their mother didn’t want to leave their father’s side - no surprise there. They arranged to stay at the hospital themselves in short shifts in case there was any change. Once Jackson had talked to each of them, the Doctor seemed to have little problem revealing that he would be in the hospital for at least a month on intensive treatment.

It was intimidating, to say the least - but Lucas volunteered to do whatever he had too. He, unlike the rest of them, had no commitment to the company, which meant that he was the most flexible.

By the time Vladimir finally left the hospital, around four in the morning, he was exhausted. Alistair and Ethan elected to go home with him to rest while Lucas remained with their parents.

There was little to say while they waited for the car to come - but, of course, Alistair was the one to break the silence. After being apart so long, Vladimir had almost forgotten how much his older brother liked to talk.

Almost.

“Where’s your friend, Vlad? The pretty redhead?”

Vlad glanced up at Alistair in warning. “She’s at the Manor. Maria’s getting a room ready for her.”

The red-haired man held his hands up in self-defense. “Hey, calm down. We’re all tired. I’m not going to ask any questions now. Just wanted to know where she’d got to.”

He was too exhausted to be very defensive. Their car arrived in short order and they rode back to the manor in silence. Upon arrival, the three of them shared a very stiff drink before bed, and Vlad did his best to calm the turmoil that raged in his chest.

Cancer.

Cancer had killed Charlotte’s mother over twenty years ago. Perhaps if he talked to her…. but he didn’t want to talk to her about this. It was bad enough that he demanded she be here. There was no need to dredge up old memories...and Vlad wasn’t so sure he really wanted to know what was in store for his father in the coming weeks.

It couldn’t be pretty.

Vladimir showered quickly and readied for bed. It felt strange to be back at home without his father’s presence, and his mind kept returning to the man in the hospital. Jackson Kensley had always been the strongest of them all. He had tamed the rebellious hearts and minds of he and his brothers, earned the love of his headstrong wife...and now he lies in a hospital bed, his survival beyond his control.

Vladimir didn’t get further than slipping into a pair of underwear before he was perched on the edge of the bed. This room had been his since he’d first arrived in America. Though it had long been updated to give it a more adult feel, there were still business club management awards he’d won when he was in high school. The Rubix’s cubes he had lined up as he finished them. And picture after picture of him grinning with his family.

Happy - free. Before the weight of life had crashed down upon him.

Fucking Christ, everything was shot to shit.

He sat there, his head hung, wondering if he would ever be able to sleep - when a soft knock came at his door. Vladimir exhaled a long breath. “I don’t need anything, Maria. I’m fine.”

But then the door was opening, soft as a whisper, and Vladimir looked up, a sharp reprimand on the tip of his tongue.

The moment Charlotte stepped through the doorway, the words died on his tongue. She wore only the same t-shirt that she had the first night he’d come to her, her wild curls spiraling down her back and over her shoulders. When she met his gaze, her own was tentative. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just...I thought you might like company. Just to sleep. No one saw me leave my room….and I can get up early.”

For almost a full minute, Vladimir just stared at her. The silky-smooth lines of her bare legs, the vibrant red of her hair and the vivid almond hue of her eyes...though it had only been a few hours since he’d last seen her, he admitted - though only to himself - that he had missed her. That if there was one good thing at all to come out of this mess, it was that she was still here, with him.

Charlotte ran a hand through her hair, her expression unsure at his prolonged stare. “If you want to be alone, I understand.” Before she could turn to leave, however, Vladimir stopped her with a short protest.

“Come here.” His voice was quiet, but the intensity was enough to stop Charlotte in her tracks. She looked back up at him, hesitating only a moment before she crossed the room to stand before him. Charlotte leaned forward to rest her hands on his knees a moment before she cradled her chin in the crook of his neck and shoulder.

Vladimir’s arms encircled her, holding her tightly against him for a long beat before he plucked her from the floor and set her in his lap, straddling muscular thighs. He threaded his hands through her hair as she curled slender fingers into his shoulders and lowered her mouth to his.

But this kiss had none of the frantic, needful insistence of their encounters in Russia. It was slow and thorough, allowing him to fully explore the sweetness of her mouth as he held her tightly against him. She smelled like heaven...she felt right.

Even if everything between them was so inherently wrong.

She shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t need her here, but, somehow, he did.

Why? This was no architecture project...no tour of LA. But it was something that went beyond his realm of understanding. Death, Vladimir knew, was a natural part of life - but he had never stared it in the face like this. If he had known from the start, would he have had the strength to simply overcome it, as he had all obstacles? To accept the odds and fulfill the legacy his father left him?

With Charlotte, none of that was required. Here, now...he didn’t have to be strong. Hell, he didn’t even have to understand her convoluted designs or her confrontational attitude. All he needed was her.

Vladimir gripped the hem of her t-shirt so tightly he almost tore it, tugging it up and over her head. The moment her breasts were bared to him, he tugged a nipple between his teeth, making her shudder as he savored the minute, small bud.

She was already wet and ready for him - as it seemed she perpetually was. Reaching between her slender thighs, Vladimir found her slick lower folds, rubbing back and forth until Charlotte emitted a soft cry of want.

He took the barest moment to free his erection before he was sliding against her, teasing her with the tip of his throbbing member. Vladimir thrust upward just as Charlotte sank down, and a hiss of divine pleasure escaped him. She was tight, hot and mind-blowing, clenching around him like a goddamn vice.

When she was fully seated in his lap, Charlotte kissed him again. His mouth, his forehead, his eyelids...featherlight presses of her lips that aroused him just as much as they reminded him how dangerous this was. How dangerous she was.

But right now, he didn’t care. Buried deep inside her, Vladimir could forget everything and simply live. Wasn’t that enough?

She felt so good that Vladimir was tempted to remain as they were all night - absorbed in the torturous squeeze of her inner muscles around him. But he didn’t have willpower. Ultimately, his hands slid to her hips as he began to undulate his own and Charlotte clung to him, her sounds of pleasure muffled against his throat.

She was like fire...with her brilliant hair and the way she burned him from the inside out. Though she was imperfect she was, in many ways, the perfect woman. Unafraid of him, unintimidated by him...sure of her place in the world and where she was going. Sure of what she wanted both in bed and out.

In a swift movement, Vladimir lay her on her back against the coverlet, settling between her legs. He needed to see her face. Lacing his fingers with hers, he pinned her hands on either side of her head before thrusting deeply. Charlotte bit her lip against the ensuing gasp, even as she tightened around him.

The gaze that met his was strangely vulnerable, her eyes blown wide both in pleasure and... something else. Pity? Intrigue? In the end, it didn’t matter, as long as he was the only one who saw her like this.

Just like this.

Charlotte liked things fast, rough and unhinged - but that wasn’t what Vladimir gave her. He went slowly - se excruciatingly slowly that by the time she came for the first time, the redhead was a quivering, gasping mess beneath him. But Vladimir wanted more. He kept going, his hips rocking rhythmically against her own until she was seizing around him once more, her fingers curling against her palms as she came apart.

Beautiful.

He could have watched her that way for hours...days even...but as she clenched around him more and more tightly, Vladimir lost his composure by inches. Every slide of their bodies against one another brought him closer and closer to his peak.

“Vlad…” When Charlotte moaned his name, arching against him in desperation. “Yes...God yes…”

That was all it took to undo him. Vlad came powerfully, a low groan tearing from his throat as he emptied himself inside her. It seemed to last forever - blinding white completion that stole his breath and threatened his sanity...and then, somehow, he was back. His body lie against Charlotte’s in the dim moonlight and he could hear her heart thundering in her chest.

He had to be crushing her - on good days he was well over two-hundred pounds. But Charlotte merely threaded her fingers through his hair, smoothing the sweat-dampened strands from his forehead.

After a few moments in the dark, she spoke a single sentence, soft and sincere. “I’m glad I came with you.”

Vladimir said nothing, merely cradling his head between her breasts and closing his eyes. There were all manner of things that he wanted to say, but he would regret them all later - when his father was better and all of this was just a bad memory. Soon enough, he told himself, everything would go back to the way it was...and the only regret he would have was that he and Charlotte hadn’t met under circumstances better for them both.

 

**

Charlotte had gone through more hardship in her life than people might know from speaking with her. After her mother had died, she and her father had financial problems that resulted in their temporary eviction. She’d become sullen and withdrawn and once, at the age of eleven, she had briefly contemplated taking her own life.

But she didn’t know if anything had ever hurt as much as watching Vlad hold his family together during this trying period in their life.

It was clear that they turned to him for structure while he himself was struggling to come to terms, and it took everything Charlotte had not to go to him in front of them. That, she reminded herself, wasn’t her place. They were back in the United States and the media was already eating up the story of Jackson Kensley’s illness like a rabid mob. It was disgusting the lengths they would go through to get a story or picture, and Charlotte wasn’t surprised when the security around the manor was doubled in the first three days that she as there.

For her part, she did her best to avoid Vladimir’s family members - and their unanswered questions. But that secrecy couldn’t be maintained for too long. On a Wednesday evening, when it was Vlad’s turn to stay with his father at the hospital, she ran into Alistair going into the library.

Literally ran into him. Charlotte was in search of a distraction - any distraction from the gloom that had settled over the house, and when the housekeeper pointed her in the direction of the library, she jumped at the chance. Unfortunately, it was already occupied. She slammed into Alistair with the force of a small freighter and nearly toppled over.

“Whoa there!” His heavy brogue rang out a moment before he caught her by both wrists and hauled her upright. “You alright?”

“Jesus, Alistair. You scared the shit out of me.”

The man’s hair wasn’t quite as vibrant as her own, but he more than qualified as a ginger. Arching one auburn brow, he eyed her in inquiry. “How is it that you know my name, but I don’t know yours?”

Charlotte couldn’t help a small smile at that. “Well, you’ve been on a lot of TV programs. The Kensleys have rather unmistakable faces at this point...except for Vlad.” He was the only son that neglected to appear in almost every special about the Kensleys that had ever been filmed. It was no wonder she hadn’t recognized him in the airport when they first met.

Alistair chuckled softly. “You have a point there, I suppose.”

Charlotte took the opportunity to extend a hand. “I’m Charlotte Gardner. Nice to properly meet you.”

“Gardner?” Alistair took her hand to shake, his expression pensive. “Not the architect that designed for LA and Russia?”

“The same.” She nodded, hoping that he didn’t probe much further.

But this was Alistair Kensley they were talking about - a man infamous for his boisterous, curious demeanor. She might as well have hoped to see a flying pig. “And you’re here to...bring the work to him?”

“Something like that.” It was the most diplomatic answer she could come up with on the spot - and Alistair clearly wasn’t buying it.

“I’d hope that Vlad wouldn’t still be thinking about work with Dad in the fucking hospital,” he challenged lowly - and though he hadn’t threatened her - hadn’t even taken a step towards her, Charlotte found herself backing away. The man was simply massive - ruddy and completely overwhelming.

“Alistair, leave her alone, for God’s sake.”

Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief when Toshiro appeared. He had arrived just twelve hours after his brother and, though as somber as the rest of his family, at least Charlotte didn’t have to worry about having to explain her position to him. He knew what was going on between her and Vladimir - or, at the very least, he had an idea.

“Jesus, Shiro, you come out of the fucking woodwork.” Alistair raked a hand through his hair before casting Charlotte one final glance. “I’m just saying...if she came here as moral support for Vlad, shouldn’t she be at the hospit-”

“She’s here because Vlad needs time alone with Dad,” Toshiro cut him off curtly, his expression stern. “Speaking of, wasn’t Lucas looking for you to help him with the cooking?” At the very prospect, Alistair groaned.

“I’m going to poison the lot of you - just watch.”

“Yes, well, okaa-san isn’t here, so man up.” Alistair cast him a dirty look before striding off down the hall - and Charlotte finally allowed herself to relax.

“Sorry about that,” Toshiro sighed, shaking his head. It was the first time Charlotte had ever seen him in anything other than a suit, and she thought the floor-length robe he wore fit him. At the very least, it was reminiscent of his Japanese ancestry. “He’s the oldest and the most stubborn.”

Charlotte offered him a small smile. “Yeah, I bet he and Vlad butted heads for that title.”

“You’d be surprised,” Shiro returned wryly, glancing down the hall after his brother to make sure he wasn’t shirking his duties. As Shiro was the only Kensley she could really talk to, Charlotte decided to bite the bullet and try to get an update. Vladimir didn’t want to talk about his father’s condition - when he was at the manor he buried himself in work, and, at night, in her. Though Charlotte found herself slightly perturbed that he wouldn’t let himself even grieve properly, she understood.

She had been where he was, once. “How’s he doing, Shiro?”

The Japanese man frowned, his expression sobering. “They’re putting him through chemo every other day but he’s handling it as well as can be expected. Trying to boost the treatment because he went so long without...but he’s a tough one. If anyone can make it through this, it’s him.”

Shiro, like his brothers, looked as if he had aged in the past few days. Perhaps it was more apparent with the Japanese man because his face was familiar to Charlotte but he seemed particularly tired...as if all the life had been sapped out of him.

It was then that Charlotte realized that the Japanese man had arrived at the manor alone. “Where’s Athena?” The question was out before she could even stop it, and instantly, the Japanese man’s expression darkened.

“Gone.” He exhaled a long breath before turning to leave her standing there, wondering how on earth the world had so quickly gone to hell in a handbasket.

It was a morose few days. Charlotte spent the majority of her time in her room, hoping she didn’t get asked too many questions and simultaneously fighting the creeping sense of resentment that began to prickle at her. She knew that she had no right to feel as she did when Vladimir was having such a difficult time...but she had come all this way to be with him and now she was hiding away.

These were all grown men - with the exception of Harper Jones, who had come with Ethan, and was the only other woman. Harper didn’t hide. Though she and Ethan weren’t all over one another, it was clear that she had come to support him - and anyone with a brain would surmise the same about Vladimir.

He’d been holding her hand the day he arrived, for God’s sake. If that wasn’t a giveaway, she didn’t know what was. In many ways, Charlotte felt like his dirty little secret - and it wasn’t a very nice feeling.

She did what work she could to distract herself from it, speaking to Charlie daily for hours on end to make sure the building was going according to schedule. He sent he literally reams of pictures, and from what Charlotte could see, the structure was rapidly taking its unique shape. Though she was just as worried about Jackson Kensley as any of his family, she sometimes found herself wishing she had stayed in LA. Better that than lying next to Vladimir at night after he’d made love to her, wondering how much longer he was going to need her.

When he suddenly wouldn’t.

 

Her thoughts were awful and guilty, but Charlotte simply couldn’t escape them.

So she did the next best thing - she called Lila.

“Charlotte,” Her friend answered her in a serious tone, “Dear God, I saw what happened on the news. Is everything ok?”

A weak laugh escaped the redhead. “If by ‘ok’ you mean all the Kensley brother’s suicidal, their father in the hospital and their mother crying her eyes out then, yeah, they’re peachy.”

Lila groaned. “Jesus, that bad.”

Charlotte ran a hand through her tangled curls. “It’s Stage III Hepatic Cancer, but they’re doing all they can for him. They’re saying the fact that he’s been pretty healthy for so long without chemo has to be a good sign.”

There was a momentary pause before Lila replied, her tone somewhat cautious. “And Vlad? How’s he taking it?”

Charlotte’s eyes slid closed as she thought of the way the Russian man stared at the ceiling every night after he made love to with torturous deliberation. “Probably worse than any of them. They look to him, you know. He’s supposed to be the next CEO...but none of them imagined it would be like this.”

“Of course not,” Lila replied, the very notion blasphemy. “No one could have predicted this.”

“Vlad is hard on himself. Says he might have noticed something sooner if he paid more attention.”

Charlotte’s comment garnered outrage from her roommate. “How the hell could he have done that? He’s been away for six months. Christ, this man is a nutcase.”

“I love him.”

Charlotte uttered the words so softly that she herself could hardly hear them. But she was talking to Lila - and Lila had known her better than almost anyone. The blonde was silent for almost a full minute before she responded. “Oh, Charlotte.”

“I know,” The redhead returned on a groan that was embarrassingly on the edge of tears. “I’m so stupid. So fucking idiotic. How could I have let this happen?” She took a steadying breath, swallowing the lump in his throat. “It’s like I’m his dirty secret here...I stay in the room all day and I avoid his family so I don’t have to talk to them and explain what’s going on between us…. God, Lila, I’m so selfish. So goddamn selfish.”

Despite everything she had fought against - despite their rocky beginning and the fact that Vladimir Kensley was the antithesis of everything she thought she wanted in a man, here she was. Helplessly head over heels for him. Simultaneously wanting to cuff him for treating her like chattel and hold him in her arms to comfort him. For others, Vladimir was strong. So strong...but his weakness was that he refused to let other people in - even those closest to him.

“You have to tell him, Lotte.”

This time, when Charlotte laughed, the sound was scathing and incredulous. “Are you out of your mind? This is the absolute worst time to bring something like that into the mix!”

“And it might be exactly what he needs,” Lila explained calmly, ever-rational. “He’s clinging to you, Lotte, because neither of you have talked about your feelings. As far as he’s concerned, what’s between you could end any day. Telling him something like this is a gamble, yes, but would it really be so bad to reassure him that you’re not going anywhere when he needs you most?”

Jesus. Jesus.

There was no way. None. The man would eat her alive - and not in the way she liked. His family would eat her alive for daring broach something like this when their lives were in such chaos.

But...Lila was right. The prospect was as terrifying as anything Charlotte had ever contemplated, but she couldn’t deny it.

If she didn’t tell Vladimir how she felt now, when would she ever get another opportunity? They only had a few more days before they had to go back to LA, and God knew what would happen then. Or, heaven forbid, his father got worse and…

God. This was such a mess. “Lila...I... I don’t know if I can.”

Charlotte heard a sound that might have been her friend standing up. “The Lotte I know can do anything she wants. Graduate from a school that’s constantly cutting her down. Make her way in a firm that’s stifling her. Land one of the most momentous architecture contracts of the last decade.

“Charlotte, if you can do all that...you can certainly do this.”

The redhead bit her lip so hard she almost drew blood.

How was it that Lila always knew exactly what to say to her?

Shutting her eyes tightly, the redhead spoke in a hushed tone. “God, I love you, Lila.”

“I love you too. Now...go do what you need to do.”

 

Getting out of the house was easy enough. Though Charlotte hated to interrupt Shiro when he as obviously dealing with some major shit, he got her a car to the hospital when she asked for one.

She had no idea how she was going to go about this. Though Charlotte had been with men before - even believed herself infatuated - she had never felt like this. She didn’t know how to explain this...much less in a way that someone like Vladimir would understand.

If there was one aspect of the man that Charlotte absolutely understood, it was the reluctance to let anyone see where you were vulnerable. And she was about to do just that

She was absolutely terrified.

The twenty minute drive to the hospital seemed to take less than twenty seconds, and, all at once, she was walking through the double doors, heading towards the treatment ward where they were administering to Jackson Kensley. By the time she reached the fifth floor, she could hear little else over the pounding of her own heart in her ears.

The hall outside Jackson’s room was empty, so she stepped up to the glass pane of his door to peek inside.

Vladimir wasn’t there either. The only people inside were Jackson himself and his wife Olivia. Charlotte noticed ruefully that the man appeared much thinner and paler than he had mere days ago. The treatment was obviously taking its toll on him.

She wondered if his wife had ever let go of his hand. Olivia hadn’t come home since Jackson collapsed, and she looked just as haggard as her husband.  However, unlike Olivia, Jackson, incredibly, was still smiling. It wasn’t as wide, or as robust, but it was still just as genuine as those he wore when she saw him in commercials on TV. 

For a long moment, she stared at the scene before her. She wasn’t the praying type, but in that moment, she prayed with every fiber of her being that Jackson Kensley would pull through. If anyone could do it, it was the man who had built an empire out of nothing.

In the midst of her clumsy prayer, the man in the window turned to look right back at her. Charlotte inhaled sharply, ducking away from the window guiltily. The last thing she needed was for Jackson Kensley to think that she was spying on him and his family. She had little business here in the first place. He had hired her for architecture, and now she was moments away from prostrating herself at his son’s feet.

“Charlotte.”

At the sound of her name, muffled, through the door, the young woman winced. She’d been discovered.

“Charlotte?” The voice came again, and the young woman hoped in vain that perhaps he would think he’d just imagined her. But today simply wasn’t her day. “Please come in, Charlotte.”

She couldn’t very well refuse him. Taking a deep breath, Charlotte straightened, wishing she were wearing something more flattering than her yoga pants and hoodie for her first meeting with the man who had changed her life. She did her best to smooth stray strands of hair from her brow and then, bracing herself, she opened the door to step into the room.

It was very quiet inside. Once she closed the door behind her, almost completely silent. Charlotte met the gazes of both Jackson and his wife, trying to remember how to breathe as her cheeks burned. “Mister and Mrs. Kensley...I apologize I was just...I was looking for Vladimir. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You’re not disturbing us.” To her surprise, Jackson’s smile, ever-benevolent, never faltered. “Come over here, my girl. Look how you’ve grown.”

A lump rose in her throat with alarming speed, and Charlotte found her vision blurring. She couldn’t cry. She wouldn’t cry.

Jackson gestured for her to sit down on the edge of his bed, and Charlotte found herself obeying automatically. The man gave her a slow once over, his smile warming even further. “Trevor was right. You look just like your mother.”

A sob rose in Charlotte’s throat. She couldn’t help it. This man had known her parents before she was born...known her mother for far longer than she had. The things she could ask him… “Her hair was just as wild. Nothing Beth did could tame it.” Jackson reached out to tug on a vibrant curl gently. “And now, here you are. Making your way up in the world.”

That certainly didn’t feel like what she was doing at the moment. What it felt like she was doing was attaching her heart to her sleeve, ripe for anyone feeling particularly malicious.

“Olivia, this is Trevor and Beth’s daughter,” Jackson didn’t seem to mind the tears spilling down the young woman’s cheeks. “She’s incredibly talented. The LA building is doing splendidly and Dansk can’t stop gushing about St. Petersburg. They’re already talking Berlin.”

Berlin? The prospect was enough to take her breath away - but not as much as the warmth of Olivia’s eyes. From her wan face, they shone brightly, and her smile was genuine. “I can see so much of Beth in you, sweetheart. Thank you for coming.”

Jackson turned to his wife briefly to place his free hand over hers, drawing her knuckled to his mouth to kiss. “My heart, will you give us just a moment. There are a few things Charlotte and I have to discuss.”

If Olivia was surprised, she hid it well. With obvious reluctance, she stood, leaning over her husband to kiss his forehead before letting his hand slide from hers. “Call me if you need anything.”

With that, she glanced at Charlotte as if telling her the same before stepping from the room. Once she had, Jackson sighed, stretching before he settled into position once more. “I love her to death, but I personally think they’re all on the tombstone bandwagon. I hope you have more faith in me than that, Charlotte.”

He winked winningly and Charlotte let out a watery laugh. How on earth could he joke about this? He was deathly ill. At this point, he was more likely to die from the treatment than he was to get better. And yet, Jackson Kensley still smiled. “Of course, sir.”

“Now, Charlotte,” Jackson took her hand between his weathered ones, his grip surprisingly strong. “From what I hear, you’re not the teary type. Don’t cry for an old man. Struggle is part of life. If it’s my time, it’s my time. I’ll go happily knowing I’ve provided for my sons and all those I’ve left behind.”

His sons.

Vladimir.

All at once, guilt overwhelmed her. She hadn’t come here to draw a weakened Jackson into idle conversation, she’d come for his son. The son she had absolutely no right to. “Charlotte.” When she hung her head, Jackson’s low murmur recaptured her attention. “Do you know why I chose your particular brand of artistry for my new projects?”

Slowly, Charlotte shook her head. When she had first been hired, she thought she had all the answers. Kensley Enterprises was innovating. They were branching out and changing their image...but once she met Vladimir, everything got a little fuzzy.

“There are times in our lives,” Jackson told her softly, “Where we must choose between what works, and the chance to make it work better. You have taken risks all your life. The death of your mother only made you stronger and you have challenged anyone who has dare stood in your way.” He chuckled softly, as if the mental image itself amused him. “Since coming here, my Vladimir has faced little opposition. He excelled at everything put in front of him. He’s a perfectionist - harder on himself than I could ever be. The one thing I could never teach him was how to enjoy himself.”

That certainly sounded like Vladimir. “So, tell me, my dear,” Jackson inquired lightly, “What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?”

She swallowed thickly, her chest so tight that she could barely breathe. “I don’t know.”

Jackson laughed softly. “Don’t you?”

But that couldn’t…. he couldn’t… “Charlotte, you are an incredibly talented artist. Even if Vladimir wasn’t part of the equation, your designs stood out to me. But I hope you’ll forgive an old man his desire to see his sons happy...and Vladimir...well, you can deal with him far better than I ever could.”

Charlotte forced herself to take a deep, steadying breath. “Where is he?”

Jackson nodded his head in the direction of the doorway. “He left about half an hour ago - to get some air, no doubt. He doesn’t like dealing with what he can’t control...and he certainly can’t control this.”

Charlotte looked into Jackson Kensley’s bright green eyes. Vladimir might be adopted, but she saw the same resilience in his gaze. He could only have learned it from his father. “Go reign in my pigheaded son, Little Lotte.” Jackson cupped her chin in his palm. “He needs you.”

It was a lot easier said than done.

Charlotte left Jackson wanting to know more - wanting to know everything. But, hopefully, there would be a time for all that. She took the stairs to the roof two at a time, going so fast that by the time she finally burst into the evening air, she was breathless.

Vladimir stood at the edge of the rooftop, staring out over the highway below. He whirled at her sudden appearance, his expression tightening a moment before faint surprise showed on it. “Charlotte. What are you doing here?”

The young woman gathered every iota of courage she possessed before taking a step towards him. “Vladimir...I have something I need to talk to you about.”

The dark-haired man rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin - he hadn’t shaved in days and Charlotte was torn. He looked as deliciously rugged as he did haggard. “Is there any way it can wait until tonight? I have a few hours left with father, and then I have some work to get done-”

“Vladimir, I’m in love with you.”

The man went utterly motionless. His eyes widening in shock. That couldn’t be a good sign, but Charlotte found herself forging on relentlessly. “I know I have the shittiest timing ever, and that we haven’t known one another for that long. That you don’t understand why I am the way I am and I don’t understand you...but I’m willing to accept that. Work on it, even.” By this point, only about three feet of space remained between them. “I just...I can’t stand seeing you in pain, and I want you to know that I’m not going anywhere. This doesn’t have to end. I just... I want to be here for you, in whatever way you may need me.”

Vladimir’s expression was somewhere between grief and incredulity, and even as he opened his mouth to answer her, she beat him to the punch. “I’m not asking for some grandiose profession from you. That’s not what I want. We’re adults, remember?” Her gut twisted and she forced the lump that rose in her throat back down where it belonged. “I just...I don’t want there to be any question. If I’m staying with you, it’s not because of physical chemistry. It’s not because you’re my boss and I feel obligated. It’s because of you. I want you. I love-”

Vladimir covered her mouth with two fingers, his eyes searching hers. All the shock had melted away and now there was only confusion with an edge of pain. For a long moment, he contemplated her, and she him.

And then he spoke. “I have a lot on my plate right now. Some days it’s a struggle to just keep my thoughts straight and I can’t...I just...not now. I can’t say what will happen a month from now...or a year. But right now…”

Before he could finish, Charlotte was enfolding him in her embrace, pressing as close as she could to indulge in his scent and the feel of his body against hers. “That’s fine.” She reassured him, breathing the words low against his chest. “That’s fine.”

And, somehow, it was.

It wasn’t a no...and No was what she most feared. Not now was different. She could wait. Charlotte had waited all her life.

All at once, Vladimir’s hands were cupping her face, turning it upward so that his mouth could cover hers. His kiss was hungry, desperate - as if he feared she’d evaporate into thin air.

But Charlotte wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.