Page 57 of Brutal Reign
Maxim and Kira are traveling for another week. It’ll give me time to find evidence that proves she wasn’t behind the Black Company reforming and Sofiya’s abduction.
Roman stays quiet, staring out the plane’s window into the darkness. I know I’m putting him in a shitty position, asking him to trust me based on gut instinct alone. But I’ll make it right.
He takes a slow sip of the drink in his hand. “Any chance the kid’s yours?”
I stretch my neck from side to side. It’s the question I’ve been trying not to think about. Four years old would put his conception right around the time we slept together.
“We were careful.”
He scoffs. “Plenty of ‘but we were careful’ babies running around.”
“Hope says Kin’s not mine, or Simon’s for that matter. He doesn’t even look like me.” I take another swig, letting the burn distract me from the uncomfortable possibility that he could be.
Still, Kin looks like his mother. Same straight black hair, same high cheekbones and delicate mouth. Except for those eyes—clear and bright blue, almost electric.
“He’s about the right age, though,” Roman persists, doubt written all over his face. It fucking annoys me.
“Drop it,” I snap. “Whoever the bio father is, he’s out of the picture now.”
The thought of some faceless stranger touching Hope, getting her pregnant, then disappearing makes my fists itch. I shouldn’t care who came after me, but I do. Probably because there was no one else after her for me.
Roman swirls his drink, ice clinking against crystal. “If you say so. But it doesn’t change the fact that you married her, which makes the kid your responsibility.”
I blow out a heavy breath and scrub a hand over my face. “He has his mother. He doesn’t need me.”
Maxim has been changed for the better by being a father. But that doesn’t mean it’s for everyone. And it’s sure as fuck not for me.
I failed as a brother. Why would I be any better as a father?
“Look, I know you think I’m being reckless?—”
“Reckless? No, more like completely insane.” Roman points an accusing finger at me. “You’re pussy blind when it comes to her. My only advice is to lock your door at night. She stabbed you once, and I have a feeling she’d do it again if given the opportunity.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Pussy blind’s not a thing.”
“Please. You don’t decide what to eat for lunch without weighing the costs and benefits. Every move you make is calculated. Risk versus reward. That’s how you’ve always been. Until her.” He nods toward Hope.
I toss back the last of the clear liquid, hoping it quiets the noise inside my head. Bringing Hope home with me. Making her my wife. Taking responsibility for her son. None of it was in my plans when I woke up yesterday.
But watching her now—the gentle rise and fall of her chest, her lashes fluttering in sleep—I can’t bring myself to regret it.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
HOPE
We’ve been drivingin near silence for nearly an hour when Pavel turns down a secluded side road. My ring finger is free of the ribbon he bound there during our joke of a wedding. I tore it off at the first chance I got. It was a small rebellion that darkened his eyes but earned no comment.
The flight had been tense. When Roman Vasiliev, Pavel’s Syndicate partner, boarded and saw us, his surprise was unmistakable, especially when he looked at the “ring” and then at Kin.
The two men spent most of the flight in heated discussions at the front of the cabin. They spoke entirely in Russian, so I couldn’t understand a word, but it definitely wasn’t a friendly chat.
I’m grateful that exhaustion finally overtook my anxiety at some point, allowing me to block them out and get some much-needed sleep.
In the rearview mirror, I peek at Kin. He’s drifted off again, worn out after such a long trip. His lashes flutter against his cheeks as Pavel turns onto a long driveway that ends at a securitygatehouse. He rolls down his window and exchanges brief words with the guards. Their eyes move past him to me, then to Kin in the back seat.
If they’re surprised to find Pavel with a woman and child in tow, they don’t show it.
