Page 73 of Killer Love

“Of course, we will be,” my mother teases, poking at my son’s chubby cheeks.

My son.

Seeing him now, up close and real, in my own house, with my own family, I find that he holds far more resemblance to us than those silver eyes. The way he moves is so utterly Lutrova. That hidden twitch in his eyelids. The cleft of his chin. That smirk.

He’s definitely mine.

“I’ll go find out what they’re up to,” I say, forcing myself to turn away.

“We’ll be here,” my mother says, combing her fingers through Lucian’s chestnut hair.

I walk out into the hall, listening to their calm voices shrinking behind me. My mother and my lover, chatting over the breakfast table with my son. I can’t say that’s ever happened before.

“Luka?”

I pause in the empty hall and turn around to see Sofia following me with Lucian in her arms.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

She stops in front of me and smiles. “Would you like to hold him?”

I blink, quickly realizing that after everything that’s happened, I’ve never held my own son before. “Uh…”

Sofia doesn’t wait for an excuse. She leans in and extends her arms until Lucian sits in mine. I juggle him awkwardly, completely forgetting how to use my hands, but Sofia guides me, bending my arm to create a nook and laying my other hand on his back.

I can confidently say that my hands are more skilled than the average man, but I’m trained in death. Cradling life in them is another game entirely but, after a moment, that terrifying feeling fades into pure warmth.

Lucian cranes his neck to look at me and recognition crosses his eyes, spurring a laugh from his gut.

“He remembers you,” Sofia says.

“He does?”

She stands beside me and places her hand over mine on his back. “Lucian,” she begins, “this is Luka Lutrova.” Her eyes wander up to mine. “He’s your father.”

I flinch. “That won’t confuse him now?”

“Oh, no,” she whispers, sliding a soft finger across his cheek. “Whenever a Zappia would hold him, he’d scream.”

I chuckle. “Smart kid.”

“Smarter than me.” She nods. “I think he’s always known where he belonged…”

I’m not sure I understand it, but I’m not about to question it either.

Chapter 23

Luka

“It’s about time…”

Yuri scolds me from the armchair as I enter the study.

I throw up my hands. “I was sleepy.”

My father says nothing. He sits against his desk with his arms crossed over his chest, just barely looking me in the eye. I expect his disappointment in me to last another few days until my mother can soothe it out of him — as she usually does.

Markov sits in the corner with his laptop, plucking slowly at the keys. He turns in his chair as I pass by him and waves me over to whisper in my ear.

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