Page 51 of Toxic Salvation (Krayev Bratva #2)
VESPER
“You’re not supposed to be here!” Luka’s face crumples as Kovan and I step into the kitchen. His shoulders drop like we’ve ruined Christmas all over again.
“We live here, malysh ,” Kovan says with a chuckle, setting Vitalii’s carrier on the kitchen table. “I thought you’d be excited to see us back home.”
“I am.” Luka’s bottom lip pushes out. “I just thought you’d be later. We haven’t finished yet.”
Waylen stands beside him at the stove, wooden spoon in hand. The smell of ground beef and fresh tomato sauce fills the air, rich and warm and completely divine after three days of hospital food.
“Oh my God.” I breathe in deeply. “That smells incredible.”
“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Luka wails. “Now, it’s ruined.”
I crouch down in front of him, ignoring the sharp pull across my still-tender abdomen. “Nothing’s ruined. It’s still a beautiful surprise, Luka. Thank you. Was it your idea to make a special dinner to welcome us home?”
He nods, looking miserable. “Dad told me that when I was born, Uncle Kovan and Uncle Pavel had a special home-cooked dinner ready when he brought me home from the hospital. I wanted to do the same thing for the baby.”
My heart does that painful pump it always does when Luka mentions his father. “Oh, Luka. You are the most wonderful boy. And this is a surprise—the best kind. How about Papa takes Vitalii for a bit and I help you and Waylen finish up in here?”
“No, you’re supposed to be resting,” Luka protests. “Papa says that, for the next six months, you’re a princess.”
“Queen,” Kovan corrects, lifting Vitalii out of his carrier. “Your mom is nothing less than a queen.”
“Well, I prefer the title of mom, wife, and doctor, thank you very much. And don’t worry—I don’t plan on doing any heavy labor.” I settle onto one of the bar stools and wiggle my fingers at Luka. “Just give me something to cut, chop, or peel. I’m your girl.”
Luka looks to Kovan, who gives him a nod. Only then does he dig around in the refrigerator for some carrots.
“The little man needs a diaper change,” Kovan announces. “I’ll take him upstairs. You good?” he asks me.
“I’m in good hands here.”
We spend the next half hour finishing dinner.
More precisely, Luka and Waylen finish dinner while I sit by the wayside and pretend I’m helping by peeling exactly three carrots.
Luka takes his cooking very seriously, measuring seasonings carefully and stirring the sauce in precise, methodical circles.
Waylen lets him take the lead and offers gentle suggestions when needed.
It’s domestic and perfect. Everything I never knew I wanted.
“Mom?” Luka slides up to the counter across from me, flour dusting his dark hair. “Baby Vitalii is named after two people, right? My dad and your dad?”
Waylen glances at me from the stove. I can see him calculating whether he should run interference.
“That’s right,” I say.
“You lost your dad, too?”
“Several years ago.”
“What was he like?”
Waylen turns off the burner and joins us at the counter. He’s probably wondering if I want backup for this conversation. But Luka deserves honest answers, even when they’re complicated.
“He was a doctor, too, like me,” I say. “He was a good father, but he was also a very flawed man.”
“Flawed… Does that mean he was bad?” Luka’s forehead wrinkles.
“To some people, he probably was. But to me, he was the best. I have to accept that I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did.”
“Oh.” Luka processes this. “Do you wish he was here?”
I pause, trying to answer honestly without overwhelming him. It’s not a question I’ve wanted to examine too closely. “Some days, I do wish he was here. And other days, it’s just simpler that he’s not.”
“Why?”
“One day, I’ll explain it all to you, Luka. But it’s complicated and you might not be able to understand all of it yet. Let’s just say, my father wasn’t as brave or as strong as your papa. He couldn’t do what needed to be done.”
“Then how come you named Tali after him?”
“Because he wasn’t all bad all the time, Luka. Very few people are.”
“I think my mom is,” Luka mutters. “She’s bad all the time. And she makes me feel really sad sometimes.”
I reach across the counter and take his small hand in mine. “She’s not here, Luka. She can’t hurt you anymore. Papa and I won’t let her.”
“You promise?”
“I promise. We won’t let anyone hurt you. Not now, not ever.”
His face sags with relief. “Can I go check on the baby?”
“Of course, kiddo. Go ahead.”
He races off toward the stairs.
When he’s gone, Waylen releases a long exhale and shakes his head. “That came out of left field.”
“It’s natural for him to be curious. There’s going to come a day when he wants all the information.”
“You’re going to tell him the truth?”
“If he’s old enough to ask the questions, then he’s old enough to hear the answers. And I’m not interested in creating this perfect image of what Dad was. That’s a lie. I plan on being honest with my kids. Always. The way Dad never was with us.”
Waylen studies my face. “Look at you.”
“What?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious.
“My little sister, all grown up.”
“Thanks for having my back.”
He pats my hand. “Thanks for giving me two amazing nephews. I look forward to being the cool uncle. I plan on putting Osip and Pavel to shame.”
I laugh and steal a piece of carrot from the cutting board. “This is going to be fun.”
I stand in the doorway of the nursery and watch Luka lean over Vitalii’s crib. He’s been singing to him for twenty-five minutes now, refusing to leave the baby’s side, just like Kovan. His voice is soft and sweet as he croons a lullaby.
“You should be in bed with your feet up,” Kovan scolds as he comes from down the hall.
“Stop babying me. I’m perfectly capable of standing for a few minutes, especially when the view is this good.” I gesture toward the boys. “He’s been singing to Tali forever.”
“He’s obsessed. He even helped me change Tali’s diaper earlier and didn’t complain about the smell once.”
“Kovan?”
His attention stays fixed on Luka. “Hm?”
“Is there any news on Ihor?”
He turns to me sharply. “Ihor?”
“Yeah. Your psychotic ex- vor , Luka’s stepfather, the dark cloud hanging over our perfect little cocoon. Remember him?”
“Why are you asking?”
“Because…” I turn back to watch our boys. “Because of them . I’ve never been more aware of what we stand to lose, Kovan. We need to take care of Ihor and we need to do it now.”
“‘We’?”
“I thought we agreed on this already. We’re in this together.”
“Babe—”
“No, don’t do that. Don’t placate me, Kovan. This is our family. They’re our kids. It’s both our jobs to protect them. This isn’t just on you anymore. I am their mother.”
“And you’re an incredible mother. But they need you here, with them.”
I step away from his reach. “They’re never going to be safe until Ihor is dealt with. And I’m not going to be able to sleep at night as long as he’s out there.”
“Hey.” Kovan grabs my shoulders and pulls me closer. “Remember the promise I made to you? I will not let anything hurt you, Vesper. I will not let anything hurt our family.”
“Luka’s scared, Kovan,” I whisper. “He’s nine years old. He shouldn’t have to be scared at all. He should be able to be a kid—happy, carefree, completely oblivious to all the evils and dangers in this world.”
Kovan sighs. “He’s not a normal kid, Vesper. He’s smart, observant, intuitive. And he was born into the Bratva. He was never going to be a carefree kid. Neither will Tali.”
“I need them to be safe, Kovan,” I manage to say through the fear. My hands are starting to shake. “I need to know that they’re going to be alright.”
“They will be. I will make sure of it. You need to trust me.”
He pulls me into his arms, but the fear doesn’t disappear. It stays with me, jagged and heavy, making it hard to breathe. Every shadow in the nursery looks threatening now. Every sound outside could be danger approaching.
It’s not that I don’t trust him—I just can’t stop seeing all the ways this could go wrong. I’ve never been more aware of Ihor’s presence, lurking somewhere in the distance, a predator waiting for the right moment to strike.
But as much as I want to do something about it, I don’t know what I can do. All I know is that I have to do something.
This may not be my world originally. But it is my fight now.
Our fight.