Page 69 of Bratva Butcher

“She’s beautiful.”

One side of his lips kicked up into a small smile. “She is. Just like her mother.”

A stab of jealousy punched me in the gut. He was still so hung up on his wife. It made me feel like such an idiot for trying to tempt him earlier.

Still, I felt compelled to try and take that sad, defeated look off his face.

“You must have started young. You barely look old enough to beherfather, let alone your doppelganger over there.” I gestured with a tip of my head towards his son behind him.

Aleksandr’s eyes were no longer closed. He was staring right at me. There was a slight crease to his brows as his gaze flicked between me and his father, but he said nothing, not interrupting us.

“I was twenty when Aleksandr was conceived. Yekaterina, nineteen. Dominik and I were married off the moment eligible wives became available, and told to make an heir as soon as possible.”

“Eligible?” I questioned.

“A woman of good breeding, from the right family, who could offer my father the most advantageous deal. Sergei Volkov is all about appearances.”

His father sounded like a right cunt, if I was being honest.

“It all worked out for the best, though, didn’t it? Your children seem lovely.”

He snorted. “My children are demons.” He finally turned to face me. “Do you want children?”

I hid my shock at the fact that he’d asked such a personal question. “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Don’t get me wrong, I like kids. They’re cute and cuddly and have no filter, so they tell it like it is. If they think you’re ugly, they’ll tell you. If they think you stink, they’ll tell you. I like that kind of honesty. But I’ve never felt the desire to be a mother. I vibe more with the ’cool aunt’ role. The one who would load them up on sugar and then send them home. The one they’d call to pick them up from a party their parents told them not to go to. That’s about the extent of my maternal instinct.” I looked away, avoiding his eyes and the inevitable judgement I knew I would find at my next words. “Kids deserve a mother who will love them, and that’s not something I’m entirely sure I’m capable of.”

I’d only told a handful of people about my lack of desire to have children, and each one had given me a horrified, disgusted look, like they couldn’t believe a woman didn’t want to do the one thing her body was literally made for.

Their opinions never mattered to me, but for some reason, Dimitri’s did. I didn’t want to see that same look on his face.

“Speaking as a child who had one parent who didn’t love them enough and one parent who didn’t love them at all, you’re doing the right thing.”

My eyes shot back to him. He was facing me entirely, his feet planted firmly on the ground, forearms on his thighs, fingers interlocked.

“My father was a soulless bastard who only had me because he needed an heir for his empire, and my mother might have loved me, but it was never enough to stop the endless beatings and emotional torture my father put me through almost daily.” He focused on his hands, watching them close tightly. “I vowed the moment Aleksandr was born that I would never be like eitherof them. Thatmychildren would know what love felt like. That they would know I cared about them. That I loved them.” His eyes turned glassy. “A vow I fear I have broken.”

I slunk down onto the ground, feeling more drawn to him than ever before.Who would have thought a lack of love and affection during our childhoods would be another thing we’d have in common? Another thing we share.

“Your children know you love them, Dimitri.”

He shook his head, refusing to believe me. “I was tough. Strict. I had to be because of the harsh world we live in. I—” he cursed, looking over his shoulder.

Nikolai and Lukyan were still passed out cold, and Aleksandr’s eyes were closed once more, but I didn’t think he was actually asleep. Dimitri must have thought the same thing because he joined me on the floor and shuffled forward. I moved closer, and we both stopped before the line in the middle of the room.

“I’ve never said the words.” Shame layered his voice.

I knew what he meant without him having to say it. I stared at him, studying every hard line of his face. It was the rawest I’d ever seen him, and I knew it was because of the inner turmoil he was going through. I was sure seeing his daughter being taken away by a man like Talon, a man who wanted to hurt him as much as possible, had broken something inside of him.

Being cut up open like that, forced to endure every parent’s worst nightmare—well, except for mine of course—was like a form of mental torture.

“So say them,” I whispered. He searched my eyes—for what I couldn’t say, but he was utterly focused on me as if I held all the answers to his problems. I wished I did. “Say them, Dimitri. We all might die soon. Very, very soon. Tell your kids you love them before it’s too late.”

His face scrunched up in what I thought might be anguish. “It’s already too late. For Illayana.” He went to turn his headback towards the door, but I reached out and grabbed his chin, forcing him to keep his eyes on me. I didn’t want him to get sucked back down into that dark pit I’d only just managed to drag him out of.

“I don’t think it is,” I said, shaking my head. I let go of him, and I could have sworn he moved the slightest inch to follow me. “I know you know Talon better than I do, but I think if he was going to do something to her, he would make you watch. I think he would make you sit here, in this cell, and watch everything he did to her, knowing how utterly powerless it would make you feel, not being able to stop him.” A frown crossed his face. “I think he took her to fuck with your head. It’s been a day since they left, and you’ve done nothing but stare at that door, waiting for them to come back. So consumed with worry, you haven’t slept, haven’t eaten, and barely said a word until now. This is all some twisted, fucked up mind game Talon is playing. Don’t let that fucker win, Dimitri.”

His face hardened. A little bit of fire came back into his eyes. I smiled. A feeling overcame me, and I didn’t fight it. I leant forward and hugged him.

He stiffened, going as still as stone. He didn’t hug me back, but he didn’t push me away either, so I was classing that as a win.

---