Page 43 of Ivory Ashes

So I need to stay alive.

“Promise me…” I lick my lips, trying to think of the right words to say. What concessions could possibly make this situation livable? “Promise me that you won’t hurt him.”

“Done,” Mikhail says without even pausing to think about it.

“Don’t just say that. I need to know that you actually mean it.”

Mikhail tips his chin down to meet my eyes. A strand of dark hair falls over his forehead and my stomach flips. But I ignore it and focus on the words coming out of his mouth… which is very close to mine. Too close, probably.

“Dante is my heir, Viviana. He will have the full protection of the Novikov Bratva and my full protection.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” I breathe, staring at his lips while I wait for a response.

He shakes his head slowly. “The Bratva is an extension of me. But it isn’t me.” His voice softens and I swear it’s almost musical. “So I give you my word as pakhan and as Dante’s father that I’ll keep him safe.”

What would it be like to be with Dante’s father? To be with the version of Mikhail who loves my son and gets off on spanking me without all of the fucking baggage attached?

I fist my hands in my lap before I do something stupid like run my fingers through his hair. It’s just hard to think about anything else when he’s standing between my legs.

“Fine,” I croak, clearing my throat. “I won’t run. We’ll stay, but… But I’m his primary parent. I’m the only parent he’s ever had and I should be the default. You get him for Bratva stuff, but I get him for everything else. And I don’t want you to be alone with him.”

“No.”

The response is so fast and so final that I almost think I imagined it. But when I look up into his face, I know I didn’t.

“What do you mean, ‘no’? You’re going to refuse everything I said just like that? Do you take a second to consider literally anything or do you always shoot straight from the hip?”

“I don’t need a second to consider a bullshit offer. You want me to interact with my son under your supervision and only when it concerns the Bratva. I say no. Fuck no, actually. Hell fucking no.”

It’s not lost on me that I’m disappointed that the father of my child wants to be involved. The world feels upside down right now.

“Well, I can’t promise you any more than that. That's all I’m willing to give.”

“Whether you approve of it or not, Dante is my son. He’s going to live here in this house with me as my son. He’s going to inherit the Bratva I build for him as my son.”

“And where does that leave me?” I try to push Mikhail away, but he doesn’t give me an inch. I’m forced to face off with him while my legs are still wrapped around his hips. “I know what it’s like for mistresses in this world. I saw the flowers in your office; I’m sure you have an army of ass on the side if you aren’t already married. I’m not going to sit on the bench in your harem while you steal my son from me.”

His nostrils flare. His eyes are black. There’s desire written all over his face, but I’m positive it has more to do with the desire to spank me than anything else. Poor Mikhail probably isn’t used to his stable of women pushing back.

“There is no harem. I don’t want you to be my mistress.”

“Then what do you want?” I snap.

“I want you to be my wife!” he roars.

I fall back, catching myself on my elbows, jaw flopping open in sheer shock.

Mikhail jerks away from me and runs a hand through his hair. His jaw flexes as he grinds his teeth together.

“I’m sorry, you… you want me to be your wife?”

He can’t be serious. He isn’t.

He turns to face me, his expression wiped clean. His eyes are cold and distant. “I want my son with me. Dante is staying here no matter what. Either you can marry me and stay, too, or you leave.”

“Leave?” I reach for the escape hatch. “We can leave? You’ll let us?—”

“You can leave,” he clarifies. “Dante is staying.”

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