Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“She doesn’t seem sensitive to me,” I say.
“No?”
“She seems tough. All she’s been through, all she’s suffered, and yet she’s still strong. She’s still determined to keep going. She still has a purpose. That’s damn impressive in my book. Look what I did to her. I took her from her home and her brothers. Yet she’s still obsessed with ballet, her passion.”
Mikhail watches me closely. “How did you get her to start eating?”
“I don’t know if I’ve changed anything long-term,” I tell him. “Life’s never that easy.”
“But how?”
“I spoke to her. I listened. I cared.”
“Cared, past tense?”
Hell no. Present tense. Always. “Hmm.”
The round timer goes off, and we don’t say anything for five minutes. Each of us focuses on our solo workout, hammering our heavy bags. My muscles burn, but when I hear Mikhail picking up the pace, I do the same. Finally, it’s time for another rest.
“Ania cares about you,” Mikhail says. “At dinner, it was damn obvious. She cares that you want kids, and she doesn’t.”
“She’s said that before? That she doesn’t want kids?”
Again, a surreal hammer smashes into me. I shouldn’t be talking about this, not with how little time we’ve known each other.
“No,” Mikhail replies, “but she needs time to grow, to explore the world and herself.”
“Hmm.”
That gets the savage part of my mind thinking about exploring her, which is damn inappropriate with her brother right here, but I can’t help it.
“Would you give her that time?” Mikhail asks bluntly.
“We’ve known each other for—”
“I fell in love with my wife the first moment I saw her,” he cuts in. “Before, if you’d told me that would’ve happened, I would’ve said it was crap. But it’s the truth. I’m not asking about timeframes. I’m not asking if it should make sense. If you care about her, will you pressure her or let her grow?”
“Let her grow,” I snap. “Obviously.”
“And you’ll never hurt her.”
“I’d die before I did that.”
“I have to ask, Aiden. You broke into our compound using those old tunnels—Dad and his goddamn schemes. You took her from her brothers.”
“I thought you were criminals.”
He laughs darkly. “We are criminals.”
“I thought you were bad people—Bratva scum.”
“And now?”
“It’s hard to hate a man who’d kill or die for somebody you …” Love. Is that what I was about to say? “… care about.”
“Yeah. Tell me about it.” He gives me a significant look.
The timer goes off again, and we do another round. Afterward, I have to sit down, my whole body aching.
“We should rest,” Mikhail says, sitting next to me. “If Roman Kozlov is stupid enough to push the issue, we’ll need our strength.” Mikhail takes off one glove and throws it to the floor. “We never should’ve reached out to those pricks.”
“You were worried about Ania.”
“Still, what if she’d gotten hurt?”
Hasn’t he been listening? “I would never let that happen.”
He nods. “More has happened in this crazy couple of months than in the last ten years. It’ll be good when things settle down and life can be normal again.”
“What’s normal for you?”
“Working on video games. Shooting some ball. Caring as little as possible about things that don’t matter.”
A smile touches my lips. “That doesn’t sound like a bad life.”
“No.” I don’t turn, but I’m sure he’s smiling, too. “It’s not.”
I mean to go straight to bed, but I end up walking to Ania’s room. I say end up like I’ve got no choice. Weirdly, that’s how it feels, but not in a bad way, not like I’m being forced to do anything. It’s more like my feet automatically take me there, and I’d have it no other way.
Pushing her door open—we don’t lock her in anymore—I walk over to her bed. She’s got the blankets completely covering her, pulled right over her head. She’s wearing her ballet shoes, poking out the bottom of the sheets. I sit down next to her as quietly as I can. I should move the sheets off her face, but I don’t want to disturb her.
“Ania,” I whisper, hoping she can hear me, hoping she can’t. “It’s true. I’ve wanted kids for a long time. I know it’s too soon for us to talk like this, but I saw how scared it made you at dinner. I need you to know something. I want kids, but I need you. So if you tell me you never want any, I’ll accept it. It’ll hurt. I won’t lie, but you’re what matters.”
I stop, realizing I can’t hear her breathing, and the sheets haven’t moved once.
Tearing them back, I stare at the bundle of cushions.
A moment later, I hear Dad yelling, “Molly? Molly?”
“Dad?” I roar, rushing into the hallway.
He stares at me with wide, terrified eyes.
“I can’t find Molly,” he says.
“She must be with Ania; Ania’s gone too. She arranged a bunch of pillows to seem like she was asleep.”