Page 54 of Devil's Vows

I smirk. “And what’s it going to cost to get more? To get this Mole to talk?”

“Your little bird is becoming expensive. Why do you want to know all these things?”

Knowledge is power, and I’m never going blind into a relationship again. “Just wanting to know who I’m getting into bed with, Yuri.”

This time around, I won’t be sleeping with the enemy.

27

GABI

I walk into the bathroom, Katya and Irisha already two steps ahead, plug the tub, and reach for the bubble bath. I quietly exhale a breath. I’ve been on pins and needles since Ivan left me with Yuri and somehow, him just being here makes me breathe easier.

“Thank you for earlier today.” Milana’s voice comes from behind me. “I needed that.”

I straighten and meet her gaze. I give her a soft smile and a squeeze on the shoulder. “It’s nothing. Any time, really, if you feel like talking…”

She sucks her lip with a nod, and for a second, I sense she wants to escape, not wanting to help with the girls’ bath, but then she sinks down on the edge and helps Irisha with her clothes.

I test the water with my wrist and, happy it’s the right temperature, pour in a good dose of bubble bath. I help Katya undress as the tub fills up. With the layer of bubbles quickly building up, the girls are eager.

It’s quiet between me and Milana, and I’m grateful the girls are unaware of the strain between us as they chatter along. Iheave Katya into the water and sit down on the rim to watch over them.

Irisha patters her feet, pointing at the bubbles with an excited giggle. “There’s so much of it!”

“It’s the only way to do it.” I still remember the joys of a tub filled to the brim, the pure innocence of it, how I was also just a girl this age once.

“In you go,” Milana says as she lifts Irisha up by her armpits. “Ooof, Irisha, I never thought you’d grown to be this big when you were born, tiny little bean that you were when you were born.”

“She was tiny?” I ask, curious to learn everything about Ivan’s daughters. They are definitely on the smaller side for their age.

“Premature, both of them,” Milana says as she takes a plastic cup to pour water over Irisha’s back.

“Premature?” I say, frowning in surprise. “How much?”

“Oh, God, born at seven months, both of them. Darya couldn’t carry them to full term what with her habits in tow.”

Habits. She’d mentioned something today about how their mom used to drink. We shouldn’t talk about the girls’ mom like this in front of them, but they are playing together with the bubbles and bath toys, in their own world.

“Just drinking?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation vague.

Milana snorts. “If only.” She makes the classic sniffing gesture while pressing her one nostril closed, then tosses imaginary pills down her throat. “Started with the one and hopped over to the other. Drank to disguise the bigger problem. In the end, she probably used everything she could get her hands on. What do they say? Variety is the spice of life.”

My stomach turns. “Not while she was pregnant, though?”

The horror of it, being so irresponsible toward her unborn babies, their suffering…and Ivan, having to deal with that.

Milana nods, and my blood curdles.

“It was kept under wraps. Ivan tried his best to get her clean and keep her that way, but you know, men can be so blind. They don’t see the obvious thing in front of them.”

“Surely, he realized?” And once he had, he would have helped her, taking care of his wife even more than inanything and everything.

“Yes, but it was too late. She started using in Russia, and when you get to know someone while they’re high, with them knowing how to hide their habit, it seems like it’s just the way they are. Their wedding was rushed, and when she came here, she had trouble adapting. One thing led to another. I knew, our stepmom knew, even participated…but Ivan was busy at work, gone for days, and slower to catch on. It didn’t matter; he was already trapped in their arranged marriage. There was no stepping away from it. Divorce wasn’t in the cards, either, not with the deal behind their marriage.”

The Bratva sounds about as maniacal as the Mafia. Ivan is trapped with duties as the Pakhan, just as Matteo is trapped asIl Consiglio’sDon. We’re all birds in cages.

“Why would he have had two children with her—and the girls are so close together—if she was…you know…”