Page 40 of Brutal Reign (Bratva Kings #3)

CHAPTER

THIRTY-TWO

PAVEL

The heavy bag takes another brutal hit as I move through my morning routine of boxing, jujitsu, and old-fashioned calisthenics. I’m here extra early, hoping to finish in time to make Kin breakfast.

I haven’t even made it halfway through my workout when Dinara bursts through the gym door.

“Hate to interrupt your morning workout, but you need to hear this,” she says, tablet in hand.

I catch the bag mid-swing and turn to find her standing in the doorway with an expression that tells me my day just got a lot more complicated.

“What’s up?” I ask, grabbing my towel from the equipment rack.

She drops onto a weight bench, crossing one booted leg over the other. From the way she’s dressed, it looks like she pulled an all-nighter.

“Chen made contact with Hope last night.”

My shoulders tense. “What did he say?”

“A lot of bullshit,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“He claims the bank finally released her trust fund. Great. But now there’s a new problem.

He tells her the government froze Lai King’s assets, so they have to be careful.

That part’s true, thanks to you, but her trust fund is in her name, so the authorities can’t touch it.

” She swipes her fingers across the tablet.

“Here’s the really suspicious part: he’s pushing for an in-person meeting.

Says the safest thing is to convert her inheritance into hardware wallets he’ll hand-deliver to her. ”

“Over my dead body. I’ll never let her off the compound without me anyhow.” I begin pacing the room like a caged animal. “And what the hell is a hardware wallet?”

“Encrypted USB device that stores digital currency keys. Basically, whoever holds the physical device has access to the money.”

I take a long drink from my water bottle. “Convenient story. How did Hope respond?”

“Cautiously. She told him she appreciates the offer but needs time to figure out a safe way to meet.”

“She can’t seriously be considering meeting him. She doesn’t need the money. I have more than enough.”

Dinara gives me a dry look. “She deserves that money. It’s hers, and it’s her only real power in this world.” She cocks her head to the side. “You could tell her the truth, show her what we found. It’s not a smoking gun, but it’s something.”

My hands curl into fists by my side. “She trusts Chen more than she trusts me. And how do you think she’ll respond when she finds out we gave her a tablet to spy on her?

” I exhale heavily. “Until I have solid proof Chen’s working with Simon, telling her will only complicate things.

” I roll my shoulders, trying to work out the tension building there.

“What’s your take on this hardware wallet story? ”

Dinara frowns. “It’s technically possible, but it would take weeks and require Hope’s direct involvement with the bank.” She shakes her head. “This all sounds like the perfect excuse to get close to her.”

“That’s what I figured.” I slam my fist into the heavy bag, needing the release. Because the only reason Chen would insist on meeting Hope in person is to deliver her straight to Simon.

I drag my fingers through my sweat-dampened hair. “We need proof Chen and Simon are collaborating. Remember, Chen was never part of the triad operations. He was only ever Lai King’s lawyer. If he’s suddenly coordinating with Simon, there needs to be a reason.”

“And that reason usually comes down to one thing. I’m going to follow the money trail. If Simon’s desperate enough for Hope’s inheritance to orchestrate all this, there’s money changing hands, and money leaves footprints.”

Dinara rises, and I can already see her brain working overtime, running through every possible strategy. She won’t accept dead ends, which only makes her dig harder.

Before she reaches the door, she turns to face me, one hand cocked on her hip. “By the way, you might be interested to know that Hope reassured Chen she’s safe here and that you’re, quote—‘not a monster’—unquote. I think your wife is starting to warm to you.”

My mouth quirks upward. “I’ll take that as progress.”

“Oh, and Pavel?” I pause and wait for her to continue. She seems to hesitate before saying, “I finally got around to digging up the info about Kin’s paternity you asked me for. I’ll email it.”

My throat tightens. I’d almost forgotten asking her to look into this. Officially, it was about ensuring Kin’s biological father doesn’t surface to cause problems later. But that wasn’t my only motivation.

I keep my face carefully blank. “Thanks.”

Half an hour later, I’m in my office, sitting in front of my computer when Dinara’s email lands in my inbox. My eyes catch on the subject line: Kin’s birth certificate.

When I first made the request, I wanted to be certain of Kin’s paternity.

His age meant he was conceived pretty close to our night in London, and when I asked Hope about the father, she was vague, only insisting he wasn’t mine.

Part of me was terrified by the possibility.

What the hell would I do if he was my kid?

But now, something’s shifted. I don’t care if Kin’s my blood or not. I want to be the one who teaches him to box, who shows up to his school events. Who wakes up early to make him pancakes and play in the garden.

I hover over the email for a moment, then click it open.

The scanned birth certificate loads on my screen, and I scroll down to the father’s name: Daniel Ross.

Disappointment I didn’t expect rolls through me. Maybe part of me had wanted to see Lukas Viklund listed here.

I don’t know if this Ross asshole came before or after me. All I know is that the thought of Hope beneath another man, crying out his name the way she cried out mine, makes me want to hunt this bastard down and gut him.

Dinara’s notes fill the email body, along with what looks like a professional headshot.

I scroll down to examine the details before clicking on Ross’s photo.

The image that fills my screen is a man with brown hair, brown eyes, very clean-cut, about 5’9’’ according to her intel.

He looks like every other suit-wearing nobody you’d find in any law firm.

He’s originally from the UK and settled in Canada. A corporate lawyer in Toronto, married with two kids. His firm has a London office, which he often visits.

Given that Hope wasn’t open to anything serious, and Ross was married, I’m guessing they had a one-night stand. He got what he wanted, then disappeared back to his comfortable suburban life.

Even if Ross knows about Kin—which I doubt—he’s probably terrified of his wife finding out. He’ll never become a problem for us.

The relief I feel is edged with a dark satisfaction that this Daniel Ross will never know what he’s missing. He’ll never see Kin’s first day of school, never teach him to fight, never earn the hero worship I see in those blue eyes—eyes nothing like Ross’s brown ones.

Eyes that remind me of Kamilla’s. But maybe that’s just my imagination.

The moment Kin stops dead in his tracks, staring up at the massive T-Rex skeleton dominating the central hall of the Natural History Museum, I know I made the right call.

His mouth falls open as he takes in the towering replica, its massive skull angled down like it’s inspecting the tiny humans below.

“Wow,” he breathes. His head swivels between displays like he can’t decide where to look first, as he tugs at his mother’s hand.

“Yes, it is pretty wow,” Hope echoes, unable to keep the smile off her face. When her eyes catch mine, I feel a flicker of satisfaction.

After this morning’s revelations about Chen and Kin’s paternity, I decided to blow off work and focus on what I actually give a fuck about. And that’s spending time with the two people who have become more important to me than I could’ve imagined.

The entire main hall is ours. There are no school groups, no tourists, no distractions.

Just us three and sixty-six million years of prehistoric history.

Best money I’ve spent all year, especially when I see the look on Kin’s face.

And Hope’s too, because she looks over the fucking moon to see her son in his element.

Kin runs to me and practically launches himself into my arms. It’s the first time he’s reached for me like that, and it nearly makes my heart explode.

“These are real dino bones!” he exclaims.

“Some of them,” I explain, “and some are replicas.” I walk toward one of the main displays and read the placard aloud. “This one’s millions of years old. Can you believe that?”

“That’s even older than Pavel,” Hope says with a playful wink.

“Hey, forty-three is young,” I shoot back.

She grins. “Young compared to the dinos.”

Seeing her this relaxed and playful, I want to bottle the moment, to keep this version of her forever.

I give her a look full of mischief. “Careful. I might have to show you later what an old man is capable of.”

The way she blushes makes me want to drag her into the nearest bathroom and make good on my promise.

“Come on, come on!” Kin wiggles his way down and grabs both of our hands, tugging us toward the Triceratops display, oblivious to the tension crackling between his mother and me. “Pavel, how big were their brains? I bet really big.”

I launch into an explanation, about dinosaurs actually being misunderstood evil geniuses, that has Kin giggling like I’ve told him the best joke in the world.

When I glance at Hope, she’s smiling too, her guard lowered, and everything else fades away except how right it feels for the three of us to be together.

This is the life we could have if she allowed it.

Our guide appears from around a corner. Dr. Popov is a professor of paleontology, in her late thirties, with kind eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. I specifically requested her because she specializes in working with kids.

“Kin, Hope, meet Dr. Popov. She’s going to be our personal dinosaur expert today,” I say, making the introductions. “You can now direct all your burning paleontology questions to her.”