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Chapter Twenty-Four

DEMYAN

“Fuck!”

“You’re in a good mood,” Alina says as I wander into the kitchen early the next morning.

My gaze goes to the two mugs in the sink, the bottle of bourbon almost empty on the counter, and her bloodshot eyes as she makes coffee.

Clearly, Magda or Olga haven’t hit the kitchen yet. Which doesn’t surprise me, my breakfasting depends on my day. And it isn’t time for Sasha yet.

I haven’t been upstairs yet, only getting back a couple hours ago and I’ve been neck deep in shit.

Something feels amiss with Sergio’s intel. The other day I understand, if Niko got wind of us heading in, I can see the coward ducking out of things. But last night he shouldn’t have known and yet…

I glance at my sister and step outside, stealing her coffee as I call Ilya, who’s out getting me intel.

“Boss?”

“You still got a contact within the Augusto mafia?”

“Da. ”

I sip the coffee. It needs sugar and milk and maybe no alcohol. “I don’t like how Niko keeps getting the jump. Contact your guy and have him keep an eye on Sergio. Anything suspicious and I want to know about it.”

I end the call and go back in. “Did you have some bourbon this morning?”

My sister narrows her eyes. “And last night with your love.”

“My what?” I snap.

“Love. Erin?”

My heart lurches. “Love is for idiots.”

And then I realize who I said that to and I suck in a breath. “Angel, I’m sorry?—”

She takes her coffee back. “It’s fine. It’s you.” She gestures at the machine. “Do you want one? A nonalcoholic coffee? And no, it’s not a thing, me putting booze in the drinks. I just… it's been a terrible couple of days.”

I swallow and nod. My phone lights up with a message from one of my men. I text him back. It’s about a shipment coming in, and I want it to go ahead as planned.

Alina speaks to me and I grunt at her in response, slightly irritated at every fucking thing.

She snatches my phone and lays it face down. “I asked if you wanted an extra sugar. Since you’re in such a good mood, I should just make it two more than usual.”

“Sorry. A lot on my mind.” And I grab my phone back, sliding it into my pocket.

She puts her coffee down. “So… Erin…”

“What about her?” My gaze goes to the door, but it’s still slightly too early for Sasha.

“Maybe you should try being less you and more… what’s that thing you don’t believe in? Romance? Love? Maybe try the romance.”

I go still. “Did she say something? ”

Alina just shakes her head and hunts around for something to eat, settling on a banana, which isn’t much for breakfast and I know she’s been losing weight, but I’m not about to say anything.

“Does she have to?”

“She’s here, that’s enough. She’s not locked up, either.”

“Demyan…” She stops and comes up to me, putting a hand on my shirt. “You started by punishing her, taking her baby from her for a mistake that—that she’s sorry for.”

Oh fuck, Alina thinks I was out of line.

And I’m pretty sure my sister’s right when I look at it, but what was I meant to have thought?

Done? Fuck. Fuck. I told her to move in.

I’ve let her out. We’ll get married and this won’t be an issue.

To ice that damn cake, I’ll make my sister better on one level by taking out the fuck who killed her love.

She believes in love. I don’t. I believe in trust. Sex. Family. Power. What else is there?

“You think I was wrong?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. It happened and now… Demyan, come on. You need to show her you care.”

Do I?

I’d kill any asshole who hurt my sister, which is my current mission.

And as for Erin? I’d do the same. Fuck, when she stepped out with me, looking like a million dollars, that earthy, sensual thing she has, there’s no need for sirens blaring loud about her appeal, because it’s there.

She’s there, gorgeous, sexy, real. When we stepped out and the CEOs I’m trying to woo started fucking hitting on her, I almost put a hit out on them.

Fuck the hit.

I’d have killed them.

I wanted to.

She’s more than the mother of my child, I discovered; she’s that piece I found three years ago that clicked, the piece I didn’t know I missed until she walked back into my life.

So… yes. I care.

“She knows.” I go to step away, but my sister’s apparently not done. I want to blame the bourbon, but the sip of the coffee I had of hers was just a very mild hint of booze, so I don’t think that has anything to do with her standing up on Erin’s behalf.

“Does she?”

“Stop, Alina,” I growl.

But she’s never really listened to me. She doesn’t stop. “You pretty much told her she’s marrying you. That’s not romantic. Where’s the romance?”

The sex. The shower, the things I said to Erin last night. “I can be romantic.”

“Can you?”

The noise on the stairs announces Erin and Sasha. “Yes. And you’re helping. Where’s Magda?”

I take off, a plan forming in my head.

Romantic?

I’ll show Erin romance so much she won’t be able to walk straight for a week.

“Where are we going?” Erin says as I steer her to the car. “What about Sasha?”

The panic in her voice is real, and it hurts. What? Does she think I’m getting rid of her? Or is it separation anxiety?

Magda comes out and hands me two baskets, her gaze warmer than I think I’ve ever seen it. And I put that down to the appeal of Erin and the woman’s approval of this move.

Not that I asked.

Not that she volunteers .

“Alina’s got Sasha and the rest of the household. He’s fine,” I say, determined not to let the wobble in her voice affect me.

She bites her lip.

“I’m taking you on a picnic.”

“So he can come?—”

“Erin.” I take her shoulders and move her to the car, where I open the door. The road already has sentries along it, and I don’t fucking trust Niko, especially since he’s gone to ground in a way that makes me look carefully around me and over my shoulder.

It’s the fact he’s gone to ground that creates a sense of foreboding; people are reporting sightings of him in crowded areas and establishments where I’m not about to have a shootout in.

Like he did at the fucking wedding.

And the places where I can get to him? Last-minute changes.

As little as I trust Sergio, he’s not out to get me. He knows where the butter is on his fucking bread.

So his intel must be off.

My instinct is he’s giving me what he learns, so that means Niko.

Of course, I could be wrong, which is why I’m having Ilya look into it.

But that means extra security on my property. And lookouts. A team that’s going to secure the area I’m taking her.

Niko might know about my lands, he might not. But he won’t know all my movements. A few cars are leaving and have left and will continue to do so for the next hour. Overkill? Absolutely.

But I’m not about to risk Erin.

“Get in the car. Sasha will be here when we return. This is an all about you day. Picnic, conversation, good food, wine. And you can see some of the land I own. The country house.”

She stares at me. “The country house?”

“I’m rich. I own many things.”

“You don’t own me.”

Her words are so quiet I pretend not to hear her.

On the drive, I tell her about the expansive and isolated estate we’re going to. It’s only an hour from the city, but it’s like another world.

When we arrive, she gasps at the two-story cottage, which she claims is a bona fide house. But that’s not where we’re going. It’s a beautiful day and I take her hand, making sure she has the lighter basket, and we head off to a lookout that’s secluded, even here.

The surrounding woodland is shady, lush, and green and below, is a little stream gurgles by.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” she says as she takes in the view below, where farmland is aways off. But here it’s just intimate and one of my favorite places I never really visit.

“I know. I’d come here as a kid when my father galivanted with his new wife.”

Her blond hair shines in the dappled light. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I finish setting up the blanket and set out some food and open the wine, pouring her a glass and handing it to her. “I loved it here.”

We eat and drink, and I pull her in against me so her back is pressed into me, like a layer of warmth I need, even though the weather’s balmy.

During a lull in the conversation, I say, “I don’t want to be him.”

“Your father?” She traces an imaginary line on my pants.

“Yeah. It’s important to me, Erin, not to be like him.

I want to provide for you and Sasha. I want to be the father he wasn’t.

I want…” I blow out a breath and ease back.

She turns to face me. “I want for us to be an actual family. Give him a well-rounded life with two present and involved parents. And I think you like me enough, want me enough, to do this. I know you more than love him enough.”

She takes a swallow of her wine and eats a grape. “Your order makes more sense.”

“If you don’t want to marry me, then…”

“You’d take Sasha.”

“Erin—”

“Wait.”

I do because I’m already out on a limb. I want her.

I have fucking feelings I don’t know what to do with, and that strips me bare.

What I want is to say I’d take him and cut her out.

But I couldn’t do that. Yet… letting her go isn’t an option.

What if she met someone else, wanted someone else?

What if something happened? I can’t control the world, only small parts.

And it irks me I can’t control how she feels.

So I wait.

“I’m willing to give this a go, but this is also about trust, Demyan. And that goes both ways. My phone?—”

“You can have it.”

“My friend, Kara, I can’t go without her in my life.”

“You just saw her.”

She nods. “With an entire army of others. And I’ve only been allowed to call her on your fancy phone you gave me. What about my brother? I’ve got friends. A job?—”

“Temping?” I draw the line at that. “I don’t give my trust, so don’t fuck it up. You get your phone. If you must work, I’ll get you a job. There are arenas I need help with.”

Her lips press together.

“I’m trying. You… I don’t let people in like this.”

“Both ways, Demyan. Both.”