Page 93 of Crown of Hate

The next few moments are a blur. Suddenly, I’m laughing and sweeping her into a bear hug. I’m riding a high that puts every drug to shame. It’s like I’ve just been handed something I’ve always craved but never dared to hope for.

I’m buzzing with an emotion I can’t even name. My hand finds Alya’s stomach, and I stare into her eyes in awe. There’s a tiny life growing in there. Half me, half her. A living, breathing symbol of our love. If this is a dream, I want to live in it forever.

“Are you… happy?” she asks cautiously, still watching me intently, almost like she can’t believe my reaction.

“Happy?” I drop to one knee and take her hands in mine. “Alya, this is the happiest moment of my life. You have no idea how excited I am.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I was worried you weren’t ready for this. That you wouldn’t want this baby.”

“You really thought that?”

She nods, and my heart breaks a little.

I can’t blame her. It’s not like I’ve been husband of the year so far. I haven’t given her much reason to believe I’d be a good enough father either. I’ve been too caught up in Bratva business, too wrapped up in my own world that I never showed her how much I’ve always longed for a child. But I swear to every god listening, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving myself to her after all of this is over. It’s a promise I make to her in my heart.

I cup her stomach again, desperate to feel some connection to the tiny life inside, even though I know it’s far too early to feel anything. The idea of becoming a father has wiped out mycommon sense, and I don’t mind one bit. I’m savoring every moment of this experience.

“I’ll love our child. I’ll protect them with every fiber of my existence.” I cradle her delicate face with my other hand. “I’ll protect both of you and give you all the love and care you deserve. That’s a promise, Alya.”

A single tear rolls down her cheek, and she quickly wipes it away. “I believe you, Mikhail. I know you will.”

I blink rapidly, fighting back my own tears from falling. I’m not used to feeling this way, so raw and open. Alya has brought out the most human part of me, and I owe her everything for it. She has made me see that there’s more to life than power and control. There’s love… real love, and now there’s family.

She rests her head on my chest, and I wrap my arms around her. She’s small, radiating barely any heat, but in this moment, she’s my entire world and everything is perfect.

Tomorrow, we’re off to Russia, and God knows what waits for us there. But tonight, I just want to hold on to this precious moment. “Alya,” I murmur into her hair.

She looks up at me, those gorgeous eyes shining. “Yes, husband?”

“Do you think he’ll look like me?” I ask, gazing at her like she’s the eighth wonder of the world. Because to me, she is.

Her brows knit together. “He?. You think they’ll be a boy?”

“I don’t think. I know he’ll be a boy,” I say with absolute certainty. I can feel it.

Her eyes crinkle as she smiles. “You can’t be that sure.”

I smile back at her. My God, I still can’t believe this stunning, fierce, loving woman is mine. It still feels like a dream. “What if I told you I am?”

“Then I won’t argue.” She loops her arms around my neck, lips pursed playfully. “But what if it’s a girl?’

“Then I’ll love her just as fiercely, and pray she looks just like you,” I answer honestly. “But trust me, it’s a boy.”

She chuckles and sticks out her pinky. “Let’s make a deal. You’ll get to name him if it’s a boy. But if it’s a girl, I’ll get to name her. Deal?”

I link my pinky with hers. “Deal.” Without warning, I scoop her up in my arms. “Now, how about I give you a nice, relaxing bath?”

She laughs, pinching my nose. “Only if you promise to behave yourself.”

I brush a light kiss across her lips, then carry her to the bathroom. Setting her down, I turn on the tap. “Don’t worry, I’ll be the perfect gentleman. I just want to talk more about our son. Should I teach him to ride a bike first or play soccer?”

She pokes my arm as if she’s trying to snap me out of a daydream. “He’s barely the size of a sesame seed! Isn’t it a little early to be thinking about that?”

I unzip her dress and help her out of it. “It’s never too early. What do you think is an appropriate age for firearm training?”

She glares daggers at me, but it’s not enough to deter me. I’ll die from excitement if I don’t let it all out now. “No guns,” she says sternly. “Not until they’re old enough.”

I tap my lips thoughtfully. “I feel like ‘fresh out of the womb’ is old enough.”

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