Page 45 of Brutal Reign (Bratva Kings #3)

CHAPTER

THIRTY-SIX

PAVEL

“Where are we with the Javelins?” Maxim asks as we finish up our usual Monday morning phone meeting. “Did Aslan bite?”

Even though Maxim isn’t involved in day-to-day operations as much, he still keeps a finger on the pulse of business. It’s too big and complicated not to have all our brains on it.

“He sure did,” Roman offers. “Especially after Pavel pulled a gun on him.”

There’s a long silence before Maxim speaks. “Are you fucking serious?”

I clear my throat and kick my feet up on my desk. “The process was taking way too fucking long, and I had somewhere else I needed to be.”

“And that somewhere was home for Kin’s bedtime.” Amusement drips from Roman’s tone, and I wish we were in person so I could give him a sharp elbow.

“You did this because you wanted to get home for the kid’s bedtime?” Maxim sounds incredulous, and sure, I get it. For years, I’ve lived for work, followed protocol, and never let personal shit interfere with business. But now that I have Hope and Kin, work feels secondary.

“What does it matter?” I huff back, spinning a pen in my hand. “We closed the deal, didn’t we? With a lot less bullshit than usual. And I got home to read Kin a bedtime story, so I don’t see the issue here.”

“Jesus, Pavel,” Maxim grumbles. “Aslan’s a longtime associate.”

“And an asshole, if we’re being honest.”

Roman chuckles. “Never bothered you before.”

“The contract’s signed, and the money’s transferred.” I stand and pace to the window, watching rays of sun break through the trees. “Do we really need to have this conversation?”

“Maybe give us a heads-up next time you plan on pulling a gun during a sit-down.”

I snort. “Please. It wasn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last.” Especially if someone wants to keep me from my family.

Family . There’s something so right about that word.

“And how’s it going with your new wife?” Maxim’s tone is carefully neutral, but I can hear the underlying edge.

Maxim is wary of Hope living under my roof, and I understand his concern. He’s protective of everyone living on the compound; we all are. But after losing his first son in an enemy attack, he’s especially cautious with Kira and their kids.

My eyes wander to one of Kin’s many dinosaur figurines abandoned under a tree as I consider the question.

Hope now sleeps in my bed. I made sure of it.

But after everything she’s been through, there’s still a part of her thinking about running.

She doesn’t yet fully trust me, but she will. She and I are inevitable.

“She’s still learning to trust me,” I admit. “But it’s been good. Better than good. You can see for yourself on Sunday.”

“Right, well, Kira is looking forward to meeting her.”

“So is Liza,” Roman adds.

I notice they don’t include themselves in that sentiment.

A beat passes before Maxim adds, “I trust your judgment, but this situation is…”

“Fucked up?” Roman suggests. “But she hasn’t slit your throat yet. That has to be a good sign.”

“You almost sound disappointed,” I say to lighten the mood.

“Anyhow, there’s something else to discuss.

Hope is still in communication with Chen.

He’s pushing for an in-person meeting in Moscow to hand off her inheritance, which he claims to have transferred onto a hardware wallet.

She hasn’t agreed to meet him yet, but Dinara and I think it’s a setup. ”

Roman whistles. “That’s ballsy. Showing up in our city.”

“Ballsy and desperate, which makes me think Simon is behind this plan. He wants Hope back, and he wants her money.” I pace the length of my office, my molars clenched tight. “I don’t have proof yet, but Dinara’s working on it.”

“Our contacts are searching for Simon in Hong Kong. Something will give soon,” Maxim assures me.

A gentle knock at my office door interrupts, followed by Kin’s sweet, high-pitched voice. “Pavel! Come pick tomatoes with us.”

My chest tightens at the sound. “Let’s pick this up over lunch this weekend. I’ll have more details to share by then.”

We exchange a quick round of goodbyes before I end the call, toss my phone onto the desk, and open my office door to find Kin bouncing on his toes, dressed in pajamas. Yarik stands behind him, tanned hands resting on the boy’s shoulders.

“Sorry.” Yarik shrugs. “He was too excited to wait.”

“The tomatoes are ready,” Kin announces. “Yarik says I’ve been very patient waiting.”

“Have you now?” I lower to his level, grinning at his earnest expression. “And where’s your mother? Doesn’t she want to see these famous tomatoes?”

Kin shrugs. “Mama likes to sleep.”

She probably needed extra rest after I wore her out last night, and the night before that as well.

“Come on, let’s go see these tomatoes, and then we can bring your mom breakfast in bed. How does that sound?”

“Good! Can we pick the biggest ones?” Kin asks, slipping his small hand into mine.

“Absolutely,” I promise, leading him toward the kitchen.

Minutes later, we’re in Yarik’s garden, the morning sun warm on our backs. Kin crouches between tomato plants, examining each fruit like he’s conducting important scientific research.

“Why do some tomatoes have bumpy parts?” Kin asks, pointing to a particularly ugly but ripe specimen.

“Those are the tastiest ones,” Yarik explains patiently. “The pretty ones aren’t always the best.”

Kin continues to inspect each plant while I hold the basket. His concentration is absolute.

Finally, he points to a tomato on the vine the size of his fist. “That one’s like a dinosaur egg!”

“Everything’s like a dinosaur with you,” I tease as he adds it to our basket.

“Can I pick flowers for Mama? Girls like them.”

“Where did you learn that?” I ask, amused.

“Boys give girls flowers when they want them to be happy.” He shrugs, like everyone knows this fact.

Yarik chuckles from where he’s checking his pepper plants. “Smart boy.”

“Very smart,” I agree. “What kind of flowers do you think your mama would like?”

Kin considers this. “Pink ones. No, purple! Her favorite sweater is purple. And she had purple nail polish, but Simon didn’t like it.”

And that’s why I’m going to make sure Simon dies a slow, painful death.

“Well, Simon’s not here anymore. And I happen to know Yarik grows the best flowers.”

Yarik gestures toward a section of the garden bursting with lavender and purple asters.

Kin abandons the tomatoes and races toward the flowerbeds, his dark hair catching the morning breeze. He stops abruptly and turns back to me. “Maybe you should give her the flowers,” he suggests.

“You think so?”

Kin nods earnestly, and I realize he’s playing matchmaker, ensuring I stick around as his stepfather. Can’t say I mind that.

“How about we choose them together?”

As we pick a bouquet for Hope, Kin keeps up a steady stream of chatter about everything from dinosaur diets to his favorite colors, to the fact that he wants to learn to swim like a fish.

We’re about done when, out of nowhere, he says, “Mama says my real daddy lives really far away. But you’re here now, so that’s better.”

I ruffle his hair, my throat tight. “Yeah, buddy. I’m here now.”

By the time we head back inside, Kin is practically dancing with excitement about surprising Hope.

“Should we make her coffee too?” he asks as Yarik washes the vegetables in the kitchen sink.

“Definitely coffee,” I agree. “What else?”

“She likes toast with jam. And bananas.” He thinks hard. “Sometimes she eats cereal with me, and always gives me the marshmallows.”

“Let’s make her something special,” I say. “How about eggs, toast, and some slices of the tomato we picked?”

Kin’s face splits into a grin. “Can I help?”

“You can help me,” Yarik says. “Because Pavel can’t actually make eggs, despite his claim. Toast and sliced tomato, maybe. Now go wash your hands, and we can get started.”

Kin heads to the sink, climbing up on a chair to reach the tap. As he’s washing up, Yarik turns to me with a frown.

“It’s ten. Hope is usually up by now.”

I hadn’t realized it was that late. I pull up the security cameras on my phone to find Hope curled up in bed. She’s still sleeping despite the sun streaming through the blinds.

“That’s weird,” I mutter.

Yarik shakes his head. “Dinara mentioned she looked tired last night. I offered to bring her tea, but Hope said she was fine.”

A frisson of worry passes through me. “I’ll go check on her.”

Leaving Yarik to supervise Kin, I take the stairs two at a time.

Hope jerks upright when I enter the bedroom, like I’ve shocked her out of a deep sleep.

She rubs her eyes. “Is everything alright?”

“You tell me, angel moy,” I say, crossing the room. “Why are you still in bed?”

She groans and covers her face, clearly not thrilled to see me.

I take her chin in my hand, turn her face to the light, and notice she’s ashen, with shadows lingering beneath her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says too quickly. “I’m just a bit tired, but I’m fine.”

I place the back of my hand against her forehead. Her skin is cool and oddly dry, not feverish but definitely not fine.

“Hope, if you don’t tell me what’s going on with you this minute, we’re going to the hospital.”

She sighs. “You’re making a big deal over nothing.”

“Don’t tell me it’s nothing when I can see for myself you’re not okay.”

She closes her eyes briefly. “I have hypothyroidism. I take medication for it, but I ran out. It’s not that serious yet, mostly fatigue and a little brain fog.”

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I—I tried, but we were interrupted. I guess it slipped my mind.”

My jaw clenches. “Get dressed. I’m calling my personal physician to meet us at his office.”

“I don’t need to see a doctor. I only need them to call in a prescription for me.”

“You’re getting a full physical, and that’s non-negotiable. This is your health.”

“Intense much?”

Me, intense? She hasn’t seen anything yet. “You’re my wife, and make no mistake, I will always take care of you. Your health, your safety, your happiness come before everything else.”

Hope swallows, her eyes searching mine for deception, for an angle, for the catch that she’s sure must exist.

“Don’t do that again,” I say hoarsely.

“Do what?”

“Put yourself last. Promise me.” I pull her close, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Okay,” she says finally. “I promise.”