Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“I love how you can make me smile no matter what,” I murmur, sinking deeper and deeper, tiredness clinging to me, dragging me down.
“That’s what I live for,” he replies, his voice husky and sleepy. “To make you laugh, to make you smile, to make you happy … and to destroy any bastard who’d try to ruin it.”
“This will be over soon, right?” I murmur. “I won’t have to marry Dimitri. Drake will be safe.”
I hate the desperation in my voice, but I can’t pretend I feel any other way.
“I’ll tear the Bratva apart to keep you and your brother safe,” Mikhail says fiercely. “Tell me about him.”
“Drake?” My smile widens. “He’s a happy kid despite everything. No matter what happens or what Dad does, he can always make it seem better. I remember this one time …”
“You can tell me.”
“I’m scared,” I admit.
“Your dad can’t hurt you now.”
“No … of your reaction.”
His body stiffens for a moment, his grip becoming more possessive of me, and then he says, “I don’t want you to be afraid to share things with me, Mila.”
When I try to speak, my voice catches, but then I push past it. I refuse to live the rest of my life in fear. “About two years ago, Dad got really drunk, and he hit me.” I swallow, waiting for Mikhail to go nuts. I can feel his anxiousness trying to erupt, but he somehow contains it. “After, he started saying some messed-up stuff. He was making threats to do things he’d never done before—truly depraved stuff. Mikhail, think of the sickest, most twisted things a man could say to his own child.”
Mikhail grips me even tighter, then kisses the top of my head again. I can feel the possession in the kiss: his hungry need to claim me, keep me close, and stop anything like that from happening again. I’m almost crying as I sense his mood.
“He’s going to pay,” Mikhail tells me coldly. “What about Drake? How does he fit into this?”
“I ran to my room, crying, always crying. I wish I were more like Lia, honestly.”
“What do you mean?”
“She hasn’t had it easy either, but at least she can face it.”
“Everybody’s different,” Mikhail tells me. “You’ve lived in a cage your whole life.”
“Yeah, it’s made me soft.”
“No,” he growls. “They tried to make you soft, but you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
I sigh, then tell him, “Even then, Drake could make me laugh, walking around my bedroom doing his funny voices, looking almost desperate for me to be happy. I swear, that kid’s the most empathetic person I’ve ever known.”
“I can’t wait to meet him.”
“I hope he makes you smile, too.”
We hold each other, our breathing getting heavier. When sleep finally takes me, a slideshow of the past day and a half plays rapidly in my mind. The threat and the near-kidnapping and a gun in my face and the secret date and rushing back to the compound, then lunch, and now this. Bliss. Nothingness. A chance to escape from the torment in my mind.
“Just sleep,” Mikhail whispers, his voice heavy. “Nothing will hurt you again. You’re safe forever.”
The word forever chases me into my dreams, like a wild line of code in my mind, producing sensations like a warm bundle against my chest, as though Lia’s painting has come to life and I can feel our child warmly against my skin. The sleep is too deep for me to care about doubting this or thinking about how impossible it is. All I can think is …
I want it. I need it—a future with this man.
CHAPTER 18
MIKHAIL
Iwake a few hours later, leaning up and looking down at my Mila. She’s lying on her side, her knees pulled to her chest, her hair messy across her face. She looks so peaceful as she rolls over, pulling the blanket around her. I stand up and adjust the blanket, pulling it over her shoulders. She smiles sleepily, and I lean down, kissing her on the cheek.
I have to be careful. Even an innocent kiss like this could lead to places I must avoid. I sense that Mila won’t want to go all the way until this is over. Hell, if a man ever needed more motivation, I’ve got it.
Leaving the bedroom, I find the closest bathroom and splash water on my face. Then I change and go into the kitchen. It’s late afternoon. Yuri stands in a puddle of light, cleaning the kitchen counter.
“Master Sokolov,” he says when I walk in.
I grin. He’s always called me that. Dimitri is now sir since he’s acting leader and will soon be the official Pahkan of the Sokolov Bratva. “Is my brother home?”
Yuri hesitates, then says, “Yes … in the other house.”
I smirk. “Don’t worry, Yuri. I think we all know something’s going on between those two.”