Page 16 of Ruby Menace

I tilt my head and look up into his face, the hard lines softening as he looks down at me. Cruel and yet beautiful. I reach up a hand and trace a finger along his jawline to his mouth. He kisses my fingertip, and everything inside me melts all over again. The turmoil I felt is replaced by something deeper, something warmer. A contentment that seems impossible considering all that we’ve just been through.

“Kirill…” I clear my throat. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes encourage me to go on. “Kirill, I need to—”

A sharp knock at the door has my mouth snapping shut.

“Boss!” I recognize Dima’s voice, and resentment floods me in an instant.

Are you kidding me?

What now?

This is not the first time this happens. How is it possible that Dima always manages to choose the worst possible moment to interrupt us? Does he have a hidden talent for this or something?

“Chto za huy?” Kirill yells back, his arms tightening around me.

“It’s important.” Dima is persistent, and I hate him a little more than I did before.

“What the fuck do you want, mudak?” Kirill raises his head. “Go back to that crazy bitch and watch her, like I told you.”

“Boss,” Dima clears his throat. “It’s your mother. Something is wrong with her.”

Kirill is up in an instant, grabbing clothes and dragging them on as he charges for the door.

And then he’s gone.

Chapter Six

Kirill

The bedroom door swings open so hard it slams against the wall, revealing a nurse staggering out of the way to avoid being crushed. “Pakhan,” she stammers, her face pale. “Your mother-”

A white-coated physician hovers at my mother’s bedside, his face grim.

“What’s going on?” I demand as I stride into the room to get a clearer view.

“Mr. Vyronov!” His anxiety spikes at the sight of me. “I am afraid it’s her heart.”

I take in the details, seeing the sheets pulled up to my mother’s chest, her small hands motionless on top. My heart lurches at the sight of her. She’s so pale, so fragile.

Time seems to fold onto itself as I rush to her side, falling to my knees, grasping her cool hand in mine. “Mama,” I whisper, my voice hoarse, somehow already knowing what the doctor’s grave expression means.

“I am so sorry,” he says. “There is nothing we can…” He trails off, his eyes dipping to the floor. I ignore him, turning my attention to the frail woman in the bed. My mother’s eyes flutter open and land on me, their light dim, awareness flickering in and out like a dying flame.

“Kirill…” she rasps my name, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

“Mama, I am here…” I don’t know what else to say. As soon as my eyes land on her, I know she’s living her final moments. For a man like me who witnessed death so many times, it is obvious. Her impending death, the finality of it, is too much to bear. I didn’t think it would come this suddenly. I thought she had more time.

“Khoroshaya moya.” She strokes my hand with her fingertips, the touch feather-light. “You brought me such comfort in these last years, my beloved son.”

“There will be more years to come, Mama.” It’s a lie. But there is a clarity to her voice that I haven’t heard in a long time, and it’s giving me hope.

Ignoring my words, she continues, “Your papa would have been so proud of the man you have become. And your sister…” She sighs, her eyes growing distant, misting.

“Ya lyublyu tebya, Mama. I love you so much.” I lean forward and brush my lips over her forehead. Her skin is too cool. Clammy.

She focuses on me again, her gaze crystal clear. “She reminds me of her, you know. Your lovely Tiana.”

I feel a frown pull my brows together. “Tiana?”

---