SIX MONTHS LATER
The sound of crying fills the air as the midwife fusses around Lia and a few nurses wipe the sweat off her forehead.
“It’s a beautiful boy,” the midwife announces with a soft smile that vanishes upon meeting my gaze, then reappears when she directs her attention to Lia.
My wife releases the iron grip that she kept on my hand during the entire birthing process. Her nails broke my skin from the force of her pain and screams. There’s nothing I wanted to do more than take that pain for myself and relieve her of it. Having her scratch and claw at my skin is nothing compared to what she’s been through.
She was glowing through the months of her pregnancy, counting days and crossing them off her calendar until the day she’d meet her son.
I tried ignoring that she never called him our son or our baby, or that she never once referred to him as ours. As if, in a way, she was tolerating me and this marriage only for the child. And while I attempted to let that slide, I don’t like it. I don’t like that she’s been slowly erasing me since the wedding.
Considering the way everything started, I gave her some leeway, content with having her by my side every night and knowing she’s safe and fucking mine.
However, no matter how much she comes undone around me, she never lets me hear her voice anymore. As soon as I’m out of her, she gives me her back and moves to the edge of the bed. That doesn’t stop me from spooning her from behind, but while she sleeps in my hold, she still squirms every night, still tries to get away from me.
Which will never happen.
And it’s not only because of the child. As much as I’m a fucking scum for using my own son, his existence is merely a consequence of keeping her by my side.
How are you any different from your psycho mother? I can hear Yan chastising me, and I push him and his loathsome voice out of my head.
Unlike my mother, I won’t hurt my son for my own gains. If anything, I’ll burn the world if anyone so much as gets near him or his mother.
All remnants of anguish disappear from Lia’s face, replaced by a soft, awed expression. Fresh tears stream down her cheeks, but she looks the happiest I’ve seen her since before she broke her leg.
Or maybe ever.
The nurse carefully places the baby in her arms and Lia holds him gently, lips falling open, then shut, apparently lost for words.
The child immediately stops crying as his mother pulls him to her bare chest, which is only covered by a sheet. Even though the nurse wiped him down, he’s still covered with goo and blood. However, Lia doesn’t seem to care about that as she smiles at him through her tears. “Hi there, my beautiful angel.”
His small fingers curl into fists, resting on her breastbone, and his eyes move behind his closed lids as if he can recognize her voice. She spent the entirety of her pregnancy talking to him, making him listen to music and dancing slowly because she wanted him to be light on his feet. She even went out of her way and read to him when I know for a fact that she hates it.
“What do you want to name him?” the midwife asks me in a fearful voice.
After I ordered Kolya to close down the entire floor for Lia to give birth, I assume everyone in the hospital knows who I am. This is one of the brotherhood’s rare legitimate businesses. Although most know we own it, they don’t really get to meet us—except in instances like this. I could’ve had them deliver the child at home, but I wanted her to get the care she needed as fast as possible in case of any complications.
Since the moment I learned Lia was pregnant, I’ve been studying pregnancy and birthing more than I’ve studied anything in my life, so I’m well aware of possible complications. I might have been a tad obsessive about it to the point that Lia once grumbled that I know more about it than even she does.
“What do you want to name him, Lenochka?” I ask.
Her gaze slides from him to me, her teary eyes sparking. “You’ll let me name him?”
“Yes.”
“Does it have to be a Russian name?”
I brush a stray strand of damp hair behind her ear, and I’m thankful she doesn’t flinch away like every time I try to touch her outside of sex. “Not if you don’t want that, no.”
“Won’t…Sergei be mad?” Her breath catches. She’s seen him once since that day, during his grandniece’s birthday, because he made a big fuss about it and ordered me to bring her.
She was five months pregnant at the time, and she remained quiet as he likes. She was involved in her charity activities so she seemed less trapped and more inclined to be on her best behavior around members of the brotherhood. Besides, she was more interested in leaving that place as soon as I was ready.
“Sergei doesn’t tell me what to name my son.”
She stares down at him, biting her lower lip, and I hate that gesture. It’s how she mutes herself from me, slowly but surely building a wall around herself.
“Jeremy,” she murmurs.
“Jeremy?”
“I dreamt about it a few weeks ago. I was dancing in the garden with a little boy who was maybe four or five years old named Jeremy.” She smiles, though it’s laced with sadness. “He looked so much like you.”
And she hates that. She doesn’t like the fact that her son looks like me.
“Jeremy it is.” I keep my frustration out of my voice. While it’s hard for most people to hide their emotions, I learned from my deranged parents how to perfect it.
“Thank you.” Lia smiles at me, then at him, and he fusses a little before his shrill crying fills the room. She coos at him, but he won’t stop throwing a fit.
A nurse with black skin and curly hair peeking from under her cap stands by my wife’s side. “Are you going to breastfeed or use formula?”
“She’s tired,” I say. “She should rest.”
“No. I want to breastfeed.” Lia lowers the sheet, revealing her full breasts and the engorged pink nipples that have been changing noticeably over the last trimester.
I probably shouldn’t think of them as erotic when they’re in that state for the baby, but still.
Handling Jeremy carefully, Lia places his mouth at a nipple and nature takes its course as he sucks on it. Lia strokes his head, then kisses it softly, carefully, as if she’s afraid to hurt him. “Mommy loves you so much, my angel.”
The nurse smiles with apparent awe while she covers Lia.
I feel like an intruder watching the mother and son bonding, and something in my chest aches. It’s probably the pathetic boy in me whom I thought I squashed a long time ago.
My own mother never looked at me the way Lia looks at Jeremy. I only had that affection from Aunt Annika, and even she was brutally ripped out of my life.
That’s what happens to people like me. We never get anything good. It’s payback for all the shit we’ve done in our lifetime.
We remain like that for a while as the nurse cleans Lia up before covering her in a thicker duvet. Jeremy soon falls asleep, and when the nurse attempts to take him away so she can rest, Lia shakes her head.
I sit on the bed beside Lia and she stiffens when I wrap my arm around the both of them.
“What are you doing?” she whispers.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m being a part of this family.”
She purses her lips, but instead of talking back to me, she focuses on Jeremy, who has just released her breast, his tiny lips moving in his sleep.
My phone vibrates in my pocket and I retrieve it, absentmindedly rejecting Kolya’s call to focus on my wife and son.
I like that. My wife and son.
Kolya calls again, and I know he wouldn’t do it twice in a row unless something’s up. I answer, “What is it?”
There’s a sound of gunshots echoing from his end. “The Rozettis are here, Boss, and they want vengeance for that kill in Lazlo’s club.”
Fuck.
I jerk up and wrap a thick blanket around Lia. She yelps, her pupils growing into saucers as she holds Jeremy closer to her.
“Which exit is safe?” I ask Kolya.
“A. Yan and Boris are on their way to you.”
“How many?”
“A fucking army, Boss. They knew this would be their perfect opportunity.”
“How many are with you?”
“Six, but I can manage until backup arrives.”
“Keep me updated.”
I shove the phone in my pocket and retrieve an earpiece that my guards use for internal communication and strap it to my ear.
After tapping it to connect to Yan, I grab my gun and tighten the blanket around a wide-eyed Lia and Jeremy, then carry them in my arms.
The nurses’ faces pale, but they know to remain quiet. It’s Lia who gasps. “What’s going on?”
“We’re under attack. I need you to hold Jeremy close, got it?”
She doesn’t need me to tell her twice as she folds around him, shielding him with her body.
“Boss!” Yan barges inside, droplets of red covering his face as he pants. “Now.”
I listen in for the safe exits on the intercom as Yan leads the way and Boris covers our back.
Lia trembles in my arms, her lips quivering and her eyes shifty. This is the last thing a woman who just gave birth should go through, and I will make the Rozettis pay for this with blood.
“Don’t worry, Lenochka.” I try to make my voice as calm as possible as we descend the stairs. “I’ll protect you.”
She doesn’t even show a reaction to hearing me as she holds Jeremy with shaking hands.
Soon after, we reach the parking lot. A few armed men intercept us and Yan shoots one. Lia shrieks, and I fire my gun while still holding her and hit another motherfucker in the chest.
Yan hurries to the car, and we hide behind another one until he brings it around. Boris covers me as I slide to the back with Lia and Jeremy cradled on my lap. Boris slams the door shut and Yan is already taking off before the other guard is properly inside.
Our attention is on high alert as we watch our backs until we get home.
Lia is shaking uncontrollably all the way in, with a steel hold on Jeremy, who surprisingly spent the entire ordeal asleep.
Ogla is at the entrance, and she doesn’t need me to say anything before she understands the situation. She’s been quick-witted ever since she worked for my parents. “I’ll get hot water and warm clothes.”
I take the stairs two at a time until I reach our bedroom. I only release a breath when I carefully place Lia and Jeremy on the bed. At least they’re safe here. I’ll take care of things outside.
My wife scrambles under the blanket and sits up against the headboard. It’s then that I notice the trail of blood on the sheets.
Fuck.
I crouch beside her, taking her small hand in mine. “Are you okay? I’ll call Dr. Putin.”
She squirms free. “I’m fine. It’s just normal bleeding from childbirth.”
My jaw clenches. “Lia…what the fuck did I say about pulling away from me?”
“I just saw you murder another man in cold blood, so excuse me if I don’t want you to touch me with the same hands.”
“If I didn’t kill him, he would’ve fucking killed you and Jeremy. Is that what you want?” My voice rises with every word. It’s the first time I’ve bellowed at her like this, and it doesn’t go unnoticed as unshed tears rush to her lids.
“Do you expect me to see this as normal? I didn’t even get to greet my child properly.”
“You know who I am and what I do, so don’t pretend all of this is news, Lia.”
“I’ll never get used to it if that’s what you’re insinuating.” A sob catches in her throat. “A child can’t live like this.”
“So what are you suggesting?”
A small spark lights the deep blue of her eyes. “We…we can live in another house and you can come visit if you like. We can be normal.”
Humorless laughter bursts from me, one that makes her stiffen. “They already know who you are. The moment you walk out that door, you’ll be murdered or kidnapped and raped to get to me. You’re my wife and that means you belong by my side. So don’t you ever—and I mean fucking ever—think you can get away from me.”
A knock sounds on the door, and it takes everything in me to say in a semi-normal tone, “Come in.”
Ogla walks inside with various supplies and I leave without sparing another glance at Lia. If I do, I’ll be teaching her where she actually belongs, but I can’t do that when other matters are more pressing.
I trust Ogla to take care of her, but I’ll make sure to return as soon as possible.
My blood boils with different things altogether. One, Lia’s foolish belief that she could live away from me, which means she’s been thinking about leaving me all along. Two, the sorry fucks who thought it would be a good idea to attack my wife and child.
Gun in hand, I click the earpiece. “Kolya.”
“Yes, Boss.”
“Where are you?”
“Doing some pesky cleaning.”
“You got rid of them?”
“All but two.”
“Bring them to the guest house.” I’m going to enjoy torturing the answers out of those fuckers before I kill their boss. If need be, I’ll convince Sergei to start an all-out war on them. Lazlo would back me up.
“One of them talked,” Kolya says.
“Already?” I don’t hide the disappointment at Kolya ruining my fun.
“He’s a Spetsnaz fucker.”
“Why would the Rozettis hire Spetsnaz?”
“That’s the thing, Boss. I don’t think the entire hit was orchestrated by the Rozettis. I suspected it at first, but there was too much manpower for their level.”
“Then who is it?”
“He says his contractor never showed his identity. They did a transaction over some app.”
“Mercenary?”
“I believe so.”
Fuck. They really picked the worst day to try and assassinate me.
“Bring him and the other one over.”
“On it, Boss.”
I don’t usually revel in torture, but I’ll enjoy every fucking second of making those assholes talk before I kill them.
No one threatens my family and lives.
I pause at that train of thought.
After Aunt Annika’s death, I considered myself without a family.
This is the first time I’ve felt like I have a family again.
Lia and Jeremy.
If I have to destroy the world and everything in it to keep them safe, so be it.
