Page 68 of Conquer
His voice… That isn’t Vadim talking. I imagine it’s his father, or worse—some other phantom who threatened or harmed him in the past. Even now, seemingly successful with more money than any man could ask for, he’s still running. Still fighting.
Can he ever truly be at peace?
“I can’t pretend like I agree with any of this,” I admit, my eyes welling, throat constricting. “I can’t. I can’t understand it—but I can admit that I have never been faced with what you have. You want my trust, then you have it. That doesn’t mean acceptance.”
He stops, his back to me. “So what does it mean?”
I suck in a breath at the ice in his tone. It’s not the chilling, detached way he’s spoken to me when cutting me off from Magda or accusing me of wanting to use him. This anger, I suspect, is fully focused inward, solely at the boy he used to be, desperate to outwit his brother at every turn. Craving to prove his worth in any way he could. A part of me wants to…
But in the end, I can’t blame that little boy for who he is now.
I don’t have that right.
“Should I prepare the plane to fly you to California?” he wonders. But he sounds so hollow, I doubt he’s joking. Resigned. He’sthatconvinced I’ll leave him merely for hearing the truth.
“I’m not running, am I?” I ask hoarsely. “I’m listening. I’m processing…” Sighing, I rise to my feet, advancing toward him on trembling limbs. “I love you.”
The space where his arm meets his shoulder is a refuge I seek out, burying my face in that hollow as my arms go around him to settle over his stomach. “That means facing the good and the bad. You’re more than the person I met in a bar on a whim. I can’t expect everything about you to be tailor-made for my life and expectations. But… Neither can you when it comes to me. So I’m asking for the same mercy. Be honest with me.”
His fingers flutter over mine, hesitant as if he’s not fully convinced I won’t pull away. “Anything.”
“What do you really expect from us? I need to know. Is it children? B-Biological children—” God, how selfish is it that this topic stings more than the reality of him supplying an entire illegal drug trade to spur the sales of his company’s assets. Damn Irina. Her smug grin is in my head, her snide accusations ever looming. I can’t escape them no matter how hard I fucking try. Walking away from a glorified drug dealer due to my own moral compass is one thing. Having him cast me aside because of the failings of my own body is another.
It’s so selfish…
But there it is.
“I want to hear it from you,” I tell him, my words muffled by the fabric of his suit jacket. “Please. Just tell me—”
“I don’t deserve one child.” His voice resonates throughout his entire body, guttural with pure conviction. “Let alone more. I’m not so arrogant as todemandmore.”
He shifts, prying me from him only to spin me into the embrace of his chest. With utter gentleness, his fingers brush my chin, coaxing me into facing him. Those eyes swallow me whole, absolving my guilt, my fear.
He looks at me like someone seeing sunlight after years spent in the dark. With too much awe, he looks at me—more than any one woman could ever deserve. Ever live up to.
But he doesn’t make it feel unwarranted—and that’s the terrifying part.
“Love,” he murmurs, trailing his lips across my forehead. Then down. Over my cheek and against my mouth. “I won’t demand more from you than what you can offer. Again.”
I sway, seeking out the contours of his body for stability.
“Push me away like that again, and I’ll kill you,” I tell him seriously. “Your reputation or not.”
“My reputation…” He chuckles, and some of that persistent pain leaves his gaze. Just enough to make him seem more exhausted than calculating for once. A man so used to going to war with the world, he’s still mistrustful of peace. “But that is why Irina’s recent actions don’t make sense,” he admits, his lips contorting into a frown as the pressing reality at the forefront asserts itself again. “I never told her about Maxim. To go after him, she has an aim in mind far beyond aggravating me.”
In a funny way, it’s striking that he can only realize as much now, with a tiny fraction of his animosity toward Maxim cooled for Magda’s sake.
“Like?” I press.
His brow furrows, revealing a mere glimpse of a man ruthless enough to rebuild the world around him as he saw fit. “Like… She dug too deep into my past and decided to make a deal with the devil.”
I feel my eyebrow raising. “Don’t tell me Lucifer himself is another relative.”
“My grandfather,” he says, without missing a beat. The scary part? He doesn’t sound like he’s joking. “Anatoli Koslov. A bastard cruel enough to sow an empire of thieving, scheming degenerates. Maxim defied him. I’d thought he’d slunk off to Moscow by now.”
“You think Irina…made a deal with him somehow?”
“No,” he says quickly, but he frowns, raking a hand through his hair. “Unless… Fuck!” He turns, pacing with renewed focus. “How the fuck didn’t I see it before? Why would a woman like Irina have a child?Mychild. I can tell you she never expressed a maternal interest before. But to the Koslovs? A child is a commodity,” he says darkly, his hands curling into fists. “One easily bought and sold. My past? I still have yet to tell you the full extent.”
