Page 108 of The Mafia's Fake Wife

His expression sobers. “I want to be. A good husband. A good father. I don’t know how, Elena. My own father sold me, so I have no model for this.”

The vulnerability in his admission catches me off guard. Damir rarely speaks of his childhood, of the trauma that shaped him into the man he became.

“We’ll handle it together,” I promise. “Neither of us had great fathers growing up, but we can do better for our son.”

Damir nods, his hand finding my stomach again. “A son,” he says, wonder in his voice. “I still can’t believe it.”

“Believe it,” I say, placing my hand over his. “In about seven months, he’ll be here, and our lives will never be the same.”

“I can’t wait,” says Damir, and I hear the truth in his words.

I lie against him for a while before I remember a question that’s been plaguing me. “How did you find me? Alexei tossed my phone out the window.”

He stiffens. “Alexei?”

“The one who kidnapped me.”

He scowls. “He’s dead?”

“Yes. I saw his body when we were rushing you out of that mansion.” I speak without sentiment. Was it sad that a young man was killed like that? Yes, but it wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been helping Nikolai try to hurt me and my baby to hurt my husband. “And you’re not answering my question.” I narrow my eyes at him, suddenly suspicious. “How did you find me?”

He looks nonplussed for a moment, and then his gaze drops to the necklace I’m wearing. Even before he says it, I grasp what he’s about to reveal.

“There’s a chip in the necklace. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to be able to reveal that information to enemies if you were ever captured or interrogated.”

I’m torn between anger and appreciation. “I’m not a pet to tag.”

“Anton said something like that, but I reminded him we track our cherished pets out of love and to protect them. It’s the same for you,kotik.”

I let out an outraged sound. “Now I’m a kitten? You’re not helping your case here.”

He shrugs then winces. “Perhaps not, but the necklace is for your safety, and you will keep wearing it.”

I think about arguing, but he’s tired, and I don’t really care that much. “You should have told me you could track my everymove, but in light of everything, I’m glad you could.” I touch the necklace. “I’ll keep wearing it because I like it and choose to.”

“Good enough for me.” He closes his eyes then, clearly having depleted too much strength, so I let the silence lengthen.

About an hour later, a nurse enters the room, clipboard in hand. She raises an eyebrow at me lying in the bed but says nothing as she checks Damir’s vitals.

“Your blood pressure is looking better, Mr. Antonov,” she says, making notes on her chart. “How’s your pain level on a scale of one to ten?”

“Three,” he says, though the tightness around his eyes tells me it’s higher.

The nurse looks skeptical but nods. “I’ll be back in an hour with your medication. Try to rest.” She gives me a pointed look before leaving the room.

“Liar,” I say once she’s gone. “It’s at least a seven.”

“Six, but I don’t want to be sedated again. I want to stay awake with you.”

I shake my head, sitting up carefully. “You need to rest to heal. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“Promise?” His voice is uncharacteristically vulnerable.

“I promise.” I squeeze his hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Damir’s eyelids are already growing heavy again even without medication, the brief conversation having drained his limited energy. “Talk to me,” he murmurs. “Tell me about our future.”

I settle back in the chair beside his bed despite his protest, keeping his hand in mine. “First we need to find a house. Something with a yard for the baby to play in when he gets older.”

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