Page 115 of Cruel Juliet

“You’re doing this for her,” he says. “I may not have a special lady in my life, but I can respect that.”

“I gave her my word.”

It’s more than that. Sima gave me everything. A home, a daughter. Her heart, even though I sure as fuck didn’t deserve it.

And despite all that, she asked for one thing in return. One.

No matter what it takes, I’ll give it to her.

Misha nods again, more to himself this time. “Alright. Give me a few days. I’ll reach out through old channels and find out if Lara Volkov is still breathing.”

I stand. “Thank you.”

He smirks and picks up his glass. “Don’t thank me yet. If this goes bad, it won’t just be Timur’s leash that tightens.”

“I’ll take that risk.”

“And if it gets ugly, you’ll be owing me one.”

I almost laugh. “I’ll take that risk, too.”

I turn to leave. Promises like this don’t end clean. If Misha says I might end up owing him in return, it means he knows how complicated this is going to get.

But I’m in too deep to care.

It’s for Sima. It’s all for her.

If I end up owing Misha a thousand favors, then so be it.

45

SIMA

I can’t get his words out of my head.

I know it’s been weeks since then. That we were in a much worse place, that he was acting out of anger. Ido.

But the way he talked about wanting an heir still needles at me.

He said that at the beginning, too. Before everything got better and then worse. Our arrangement—it was always about us producing an heir. A boy.

Petyr loves Lilia. I know he does. She’s his whole world, and I couldn’t be prouder of him as a dad.

But…

What if he still wants a boy after this? As soon as possible?

All evening, that thought sits heavy in my chest. I can’t focus on anything. I try to read, but the words mix together in front of my eyes.

When I pass the nursery, I stop at the door. Lilia’s asleep, her tiny hand curled near her face. I touch the doorframe and look ather, just for a few seconds. Because I can, because she’s perfect, and?—

Because she might not be enough for him.

By the time I crawl into bed, my stomach’s in knots. I lie on my side and stare at the wall, trying to force myself to be calm. But my body says nope.

My fingers twitch, my chest feels too tight. Every time I close my eyes, I hear his voice again:an heir.

“Hey.”