Page 49 of Triplet Babies
“Everything. You told me his name, but where is he, and how did he hurt you?”
I curl up beside him and pull my knees to my chest. “We dated for two years. He was charming at first and attentive. Then he became controlling and jealous. He didn’t like me working and didn’t want me going to school. When I tried to leave the first time, he...” I touch my ribs unconsciously, remembering. “He made sure I understood what happened to people who disappointed him.”
“He hit you.”
“Among other things.” I lean into Yarik’s warmth and draw comfort from his solid presence. “I learned to read his moods and anticipate when he was going to explode. I got good at first-aid because someone always ended up bleeding. Almost always me,” I add softly, lost in the memories for a second.
He stiffens but his voice is gentle when he asks, “How did you get away?”
“He went out of town for business. I packed one bag, ran, and moved here with Nina. We’d been planning it for a while.” I let out a harsh sigh. “I thought I was free until I saw that rose…”
“Rose?” He’s frowning now.
I remember the red rose on the bench. “Red roses were his signature apology. Every time he hurt me, he’d show up with a single rose and promises to change.” I inhale and exhale before saying, “I saw a rose on a bench in your garden the other day.”
He freezes before shaking his head. “It couldn’t have been from him. He would never get past my security.”
I manage a small, wobbly smile. “I’d like to think so, but there was also a text, and I smelled his cologne…” Spoken aloud, it doesn’t add up to much proof, but my gut tells me he’s followed me to Greenwich, and I’ve learned to trust it. “He’s after me,” I say solemnly and with finality.
He clenches his hands into fists. “If he ever comes near you again, I’ll kill him. I swear you’re safe here. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
It feels reassuring, but I can’t entirely believe in the promise. It isn’t because I lack trust in Yarik despite his decision to go ahead with the engagement to Katya. I just know how Alex operates, so I can never feel truly safe as long as he’s out there.
My stomach churns with nausea as I suddenly think about what Alex will do if he finds out I’m pregnant by someone else. If I’ve had the baby when he catches up with me, he’ll try to kill both of us. My mouth is dry.
Yarik frowns. “What is it?”
I shake my head, unable to verbalize the fear without telling him about the pregnancy. “Your turn,” I say softly. “Tell me more about your tattoos. I know the stars mean something important.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, and I wonder if he’ll deflect like he usually does when conversations turn too personal. He unbuttons his shirt and takes my hands to guide them to the two stars below his left collarbone. “Thieves’ stars. They mark rank in thevory v zakone—thieves-in-law.” His voice is matter-of-fact, but there’s tension in his muscles. “I earned them when I was eighteen.”
“Earned them how?”
“By killing the men who murdered my parents.”
The casual way he says it makes my blood run cold. “Yarik...”
He doesn’t look away from me, maintaining eye contact as he continues the story in that slightly distant tone. “They were business rivals. The Kozlovs. They thought eliminating the Barinov leadership would let them take over our territory.” He traces the edge of one star with his finger. “They were wrong.”
I swallow a lump in my throat. “How many men?”
“Four. My father’s killers and their lieutenants.” I see no regret in his expression, only cold satisfaction. “I did it slowly and made them suffer the way my parents suffered.”
I should be horrified. Any sane person would be running for the door right now. Instead, I understand the teenager who lost everything and chose vengeance over grief. It gives me a sparkof hope because he’s a man who can handle Alex. “Do you regret it?”
“No.” His answer is immediate. “They deserved worse than they got.”
I trace the second star and note how the ink has faded slightly with age. “And this one?”
“They’re given in pairs, but in total, the stars were for taking control of the family business and proving I was worthy of my father’s legacy. I was really running ourbratvafrom the time I was about sixteen, since my Uncle Yuri was no good at the role. He would have surrendered to the Kozlovs or traded away our empire for warm women and iced vodka. “
His voice softens slightly. “Thebratvaisn’t just a criminal organization, Sarah. It’s a brotherhood with a code of honor. The rules have changed some in the last generation or two, with wives and children being more permissive, but in the old days, being vory meant forsaking all family. Now, all family is protected, though rivals don’t always respect the unwritten rule to leave women and children out of the feud. In those cases, we protect our own.”
The conviction in his voice makes something twist in my stomach. This is his world, violent and dangerous and utterly foreign to everything I’ve known. Yet sitting here with him and seeing the vulnerability beneath the hardened exterior, I can’t bring myself to condemn it. “What about the others?” I touch an elaborate design on his shoulder, all curves and thorns.
“That’s a rose, for my mother, like I mentioned before. She grew them in our garden.” His voice catches slightly. “I was supposed to be with them that night. I stayed home sick instead.”
“Survivor’s guilt.”
