Page 26 of Sexting the Silverfox Daddy

Gennady

Three days after our fight, I sat in my office on the top floor of Sokolov Industries, staring at a blur of papers. I hadn't slept, and hadn't eaten much either. Cassie's words kept echoing in my head, sharp and relentless: "That’s not love, Gennady. That’s possession!"

It was like poison seeping through my veins, eating away at me.

I told myself she was just pissed, that she didn't mean it, but deep down, I knew she might be right.

My hand shook as I reached for the whiskey, the bottle already half-empty.

When did I become the monster in her eyes?

I thought I was protecting her, but maybe I was just caging her.

The whiskey didn't dull the ache in my chest, just made it sharper. I missed her smile, the way she felt in my arms, the softness in her voice when she said my name. Now, she looked at me like I was a stranger, and it was fucking killing me.

The office door burst open.

Dimitri stormed in, pale as a ghost, sweat beading on his forehead. "Boss, we've got a problem. A big one."

I snapped to attention, the buzz of the whiskey gone in an instant. "Talk."

"Marco's teamed up with the Petrov Family, Costa Family, and Bologna Family. They've declared all-out war." Dimitri's voice shook. "They hit our East End and South Side spots at the ports tonight. Both blown to hell. We lost at least thirty men."

His words hit like a thunderclap, my head splitting with rage. "What?!"

"It gets worse," Dimitri said, swallowing hard. "They knew our routes, our schedules, like they had a damn playbook. Boss, we've got a traitor."

Fury erupted in my chest. I grabbed the whiskey glass and hurled it at the wall. It shattered, crystal shards flying, amber liquid dripping down like blood.

"Find that traitor," I growled, my voice low and deadly, straight from the pits of hell. "I want to rip every bone from their body and watch them choke on their own screams."

"Yes, Boss," Dimitri said, nodding quickly.

"What about the estate?" I asked, forcing the rage down, my voice tight.

"Aisor just reported. Three perimeter guards are missing, and the front gate's surveillance system was sabotaged. Boss, I'm worried—"

I didn't let him finish. I bolted out of the office, fear coiling in my gut like a snake.

Cassie. Anya. Are they safe?

I tried to stay calm, but my hands shook so bad I could barely dial my phone. Cold sweat dripped down my forehead. Every second felt like it could be the one where everything went to hell.

"Lock it down!" I roared into the phone, my voice hoarse with panic. "Seal every entrance! Shoot anyone who gets close! If Cassie or Anya lose a single hair before I get there, you're all fucking dead!"

I sent the message and threw myself into the car, yanking the door open so hard the metal groaned. I slammed it shut, the impact rattling the frame.

"Drive!" I barked at the driver, pounding the armrest. "Get to the estate in ten minutes, or I'll throw you out and drive this thing myself!"

The driver's face went white, his foot slamming the gas like his life depended on it. The engine roared, the car tearing into the night like a wild animal.

My heart pounded so hard I thought it'd explode. Images flashed in my mind—Cassie kidnapped, Anya crying, the estate soaked in blood. No. I won't let it happen again. I can't.

The car screeched into the estate's gates. I didn't wait for it to stop, jumping out and hitting the ground running.

"Sir!" Aisor ran up, his face etched with worry. "You're back. We're tightening security as ordered—"

"Where are Cassie and Anya?" I cut him off, my voice shaking with fear.

"Anya's in her room. Cassie's in her bedroom. They're both safe, sir."

Relief hit me, but it didn't ease the tightness in my chest. Safe for now, but Marco could strike any second.

"Get the private jet ready," I said, striding forward. "We're moving Anya to Montana. Arkady will meet you there and set her up."

"Yes, sir. What about Cassie—"

Our fight still burned in my mind. Uprooting her again might break her, but I had no choice. "I'll get Anya first."

I headed to Anya's room, pausing at the door to take a deep breath. I couldn't let my daughter see my fear, couldn't let her feel the danger of my world. I knocked softly, forcing my voice to sound light. "Anya, it's Daddy."

"Daddy!" The door flew open, and she launched herself into my arms, her small hands wrapping around my neck.

Her innocent smile calmed my racing heart, just a little. At least she was safe—for now.

"Anya, Daddy's taking you to a special place for a few days," I said, crouching to her level, keeping my tone soft. "It's got mountains and lakes, real pretty."

"Like a trip?" Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement.

My chest ached. A trip? This was a desperate move to keep her alive. "Yeah," I said, forcing a smile. "A special trip. Wanna bring any toys?"

"I want my bunny! And my drawing stuff!" She ran to grab her treasures, oblivious to the stakes.

Watching her, guilt hit me hard. Was this the childhood I could give her? One filled with fear and running?

"Daddy, you look tired," Anya said suddenly, coming back and touching my cheek with her tiny hand. "You okay?"

My hand shook for a second. My five-year-old was comforting me while I was about to send her a thousand miles away.

"I'm fine, princess," I said, kissing her forehead. "Daddy just wants to keep you safe forever."

An hour later, the private jet was ready.

I carried Anya to the tarmac, her excitement over the plane tearing at my heart.

Montana was a safehouse I'd bought five years ago, tucked in remote mountains, surrounded by forests and lakes.

Far from Chicago's mob wars, guarded by my most trusted team. The safest place for her.

"Daddy, I don't wanna go alone," Anya said, clutching her bunny, tugging at my sleeve with sad eyes. "Will it be lonely there?"

Her words broke me. She shouldn't have to face this, shouldn't live in fear. But my world guaranteed she'd never have a normal childhood.

I crouched down, brushing her golden curls. "Anya, Daddy'll come see you soon. Aisor'll be there, and there's lots of fun stuff to do."

"Okay…" She nodded, still hesitant, but then her eyes lit up. "Will Cassie come too?"

My heart clenched. Cassie. Would she agree? Or would she push me away again, like I was a stranger? "I'll ask her, princess," I said softly.

As the plane carried Anya into the night sky, I stood on the tarmac, feeling a loneliness I'd never known. I'd sent my daughter away to protect her, but it meant tearing us apart.

Now, only Cassie was left.

I walked to her bedroom, took a deep breath, and knocked. "Cassie, we need to talk."

No answer. I knocked again. "Cassie?"

"Come in," she said, her voice cold, distant, like I was a stranger.

I pushed the door open. She sat by the window, her back to me, moonlight casting a pale glow over her. The air around her felt heavy, like a wall between us.

"It's dangerous out there," I said, getting straight to the point. "I need you to go to Montana with Anya. It's safe there, out of reach of these families."

She didn't turn, just let out a bitter laugh. "What, exiling me to the middle of nowhere?"

"Cassie, it's not exile. Marco's teamed up with other families. They know how much you mean to me. Leaving Chicago is the only way to keep you safe."

"Mean to you?" She finally faced me, her eyes cold, her laugh sharp. "Oh, right. I'm your property." She spat the word like venom.

Her words cut like a knife. Seeing her look at me like that hurt worse than any bullet. "Cassie, I know we're fighting, but this isn't the time for grudges. Your life's at stake."

"My life?" She stood, her eyes blazing. "My life's been at risk since I met you! And now you wanna ship me off to some nowhere town like a criminal?"

"I'm trying to protect you!"

"You're trying to control me!" She stepped closer, each word dripping with anger. "I'm not going anywhere, Gennady. I'd rather face the danger than let you treat me like some burden you can just ship off!"

I stared into her eyes—no fear, just disappointment and fury. "Cassie," I said, reaching for her, but she stepped back.

"Don't touch me," she said, her voice like ice. "If you really cared, you'd let me make my own choices."

I stood there, my world crumbling. I wanted to protect her, but she saw it as exile. I wanted to love her, but she thought it was possession.

"Fine," I said, my voice raw. "Stay here if that's what you want. But I'm posting more guards outside your room."

"Do whatever," she said, turning back to the window. "Don't expect me to thank you."

I left her room, my heart hollowed out. In the hallway, Aisor was waiting. "Sir, did Cassie agree?"

I shook my head. "Double the security around her room. No one gets close."

I walked away, exhaustion crashing over me. Back in my office, I sank into my chair, hands covering my face.

What the hell am I fighting for?

Cassie

After Gennady left, I slid down the door to the floor, nausea hitting me hard. I bolted to the bathroom, dropping to my knees and retching into the toilet. My stomach emptied, but the sick feeling lingered.

When it finally stopped, I collapsed on the cold tile, gasping for air.

This was the third day in a row. Every morning, sometimes even a whiff of certain smells sent me running to puke. And my period was two weeks late.

A terrifying thought took shape.

No. Not now. It can't be.

I dragged myself to the dresser, staring into the mirror. The woman looking back was pale, with dark circles under her eyes, a ghost of herself.

I touched my stomach. Still flat, but I could sense something… different.

I was pregnant.

At the worst possible time, with my relationship with Gennady in pieces and danger closing in, I was pregnant.

Tears fell silently. I thought of Gennady's words: "Dreams don't pay the bills or stop bullets." In his world, dreams were a luxury.

What about a child?

What was a child in his world? Another vulnerability for his enemies to exploit? A pawn in his power games? Or just another thing to protect?

I started shaking. Did I really know this man? I thought I did—thought beneath his cold exterior was a heart full of love. I thought his love for me was real, pure.

Now, I wasn't so sure.

If he found out I was pregnant, what would he do? Lock me down even tighter? Claim the child as his property, like he'd tried to claim me?

I thought of how he was with Anya, how much he loved her. But Anya was born in a safer time, before this war, before traitors and enemies circled like vultures. Now, the world was a minefield.

Could I bring an innocent life into this bloody, violent chaos?

I curled up on the bed, hugging my knees, fear and uncertainty choking me. I loved Gennady; that hadn't changed. But could love conquer everything? Could it keep a child safe?

I didn't know.

When night fell, I heard Gennady come back, his footsteps heavy, exhausted. I snapped to attention, diving under the covers and pretending to sleep.

The door creaked open. I felt him standing there, watching me. After a long moment, he stepped inside.

I heard him shrug off his coat, sit on the edge of the bed, and let out a deep, weary sigh.

"I'm sorry, моя розочка," he whispered, his voice thick with pain and fatigue. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to protect you without hurting you."

My heart clenched, but I stayed still, barely breathing.

"I love you," he said, his voice fading to a whisper. "More than my own life. But I don't know if this love is right. Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm just possessing you."

I felt his lips brush my forehead, soft and fleeting, then he stood and left, the door clicking shut.

The second he was gone, my tears broke free, flooding out. I loved him, even in my anger, even in my fear. I loved him so much it hurt.

But was it enough? Could love overcome everything standing between us? Could it give a child a safe future?

I touched my stomach, torn between love and terror.

I needed time to think, to decide whether to tell him, to figure out our future, our child's future.

But time was the one thing I didn't have.

The world outside was getting darker, and our relationship was a tangled mess. All I could do was pray I'd find the right answer before it was too late.