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“Where the fuck are you going?”

I’m sure he thinks I got up because I don’t trust him.

But that’s not why.

I don’t trust myself not to give in to him.

“I’m going to sleep with Sasha.”

“Like fuck you are. We’re together. You sleep in this bed. I won’t try to fuck you, but get into bed.”

But I turn and walk out, going into Sasha’s room and sliding in next to my little boy.

He won’t dare come in and start anything; he won’t risk waking his son. No matter how pissed off he is.

Chapter Ten

DEMYAN

I groanas the doorbell rings.

Fucking Stefina, at nine a.m. sharp. Olga pokes her head into my study, and I lean back in my chair, answering the unasked question.

“Put her in the formal sitting room and tell her to stay.”

If she’s surprised, then she doesn’t show it. I keep that room for either very important guests I don’t trust, or… well, people I don’t trust or like and want to be made as uncomfortable as possible without having anything to complain about. It’s opulent, feels important, and is so damn uncomfortable it feels like a prison cell.

I never use it. But that’s one thing my bastard of a father taught me. To intimidate and throw off people in unexpected ways.

“Oh, and Olga?”

“Yes, sir?”

I smile. “Don’t offer her anything and make sure she understands staying. Right now, I’m busy, but will be with her when I can.”

“Yes, Mr. Demyan.”

I take my time with my work, going over the shipments that are due and the ones that sit in various warehouses, ready to be moved and distributed.

Pavel knocks on my door to discuss some details of the acquisition of some clubs I want. A perfect meld of legal and illegal. And situated on the cusp of some of Niko’s territories.

“Primed and ready for takeover when the time’s right,” I say. I run my gaze down the asking prices for the properties. “Good price.”

Anyone else would take credit for this, but Pavel understands his place and how things work. He understands trust and the importance of loyalty.

“All of that’s Ilya’s doing,” he says, taking the seat I offer him. “I just made sure it all went through. How is he?”

“Getting there,” I mutter. I called the hospital earlier. He’s no longer in a medically induced coma, is the phrase, but he’s not awake. At least, not awake like he should be.

I can’t help but shake the feeling it’s my fault. All of it. But I can’t let myself go there. Not until we move from this… stasis. Not until the Stefina thing is put to fucking bed.

“She’s pretty,” Pavel says, eyes on me. “But at the risk of offending your decisions, she’s not exactly you.”

I narrow my eyes at him and the change in conversation. “Elaborate.”

“The overdressed female waiting for you.”

“My fiancée?”