Page 69

YULIAN

It takes me all night to search Baldwin’s properties across the city.

He’s got his name on deeds everywhere—company buildings, construction sites, condos.

My men are too busy handling the aftermath of the shooting to do the legwork, with Nikita filling in for me, juggling the vory and organizing funerals.

And Maksim is with Kallie at the hospital, so there’s no question of dragging him in.

Tonight, for the first time since I became pakhan, I’m on my own.

I kick down every door with the Baldwin name on it. I keep my gun drawn, my fury fresh, and don’t forget for a single second what I came to do.

Get my family back.

I was an idiot. I ruined the only good thing I had. But fuck me, if it takes me the rest of my life, I’ll earn Mia’s forgiveness. I’ll put a ring on her finger again—for real this time. I’ll adopt Eli, give him everything he needs, treat him as my own. Love him as my own.

And love Mia, too, the way she deserves to be loved.

It’s nearly dawn when I get to the last property on the list—a vacation house in the Hamptons.

This time, I don’t kick down the door. I don’t need to. There’s nowhere else he could be, and I don’t want to frighten Eli uselessly.

His Garfield plushie is on my backseat, waiting to be reunited with its owner.

I swear on all that is fucking holy in my life that I’ll get it back to him.

“Open up, Baldwin,” I snarl, banging on the hardwood with my fist. “Or else I will.”

Seconds tick by. I grip my gun with both hands, forcing them to steady. All night, behind the wheel, all I could think about was Brad’s sick smile, his hands on my woman. I could read it in his eyes every time we met—what he wanted to do to her.

What if I’m already too late?

That thought is too much to bear. I take a step back from the door, ready to kick it down with all my strength?—

“Hi.”

—and it opens.

Only, it’s not Baldwin on the other side.

“Mia.”

My stomach drops at the sight of her. She’s wearing a white pianoforte dress, fastened tight at her throat. It’s not one of mine. It’s not one of hers, either.

Her eyes meet mine. Blue, rimmed with red—she’s been crying. No, she’s been holding back. Her tears are still there if you know where to look, trapped behind long lashes and recently refreshed makeup to hide the bags under her eyes and any bruises Brad might have gifted her.

The mere thought is enough to send my blood pumping, seeking blood in return.

Fuck me, she looks like a doll. A cold, lifeless doll, perfect in its emptiness.

When she returns my stare, there’s nothing there. “Yulian.”

I used to love the way she said my name. It sounded so much gentler on her tongue.

Now, it sounds like nothing.

“What did he do to you?” My fury mounts, the dread in my gut burned to ashes by the sheer need to make someone pay. “Where the fuck is that mudak ?”

“Brad is sleeping.” It’s a lie. Mia’s never been good at lying. Even their whole charade only worked because she cared. Because, deep down, she hadn’t needed to fake the love at all. “He had a big day.”

“Kidnapping children from their beds? Yeah, I bet it’s busy fucking work.”

I stride past her and into the house. Whatever’s up with Mia, there isn’t a doubt in my mind that Brad is behind it.

She’s scared—I can tell. I’ve learned what fear looks like on Mia’s face. Burned it into my fucking retinas.

Whatever he did to her, it’s nothing compared to what I’ll do to him.

“Yulian, stop.” She cuts me off in the hallway. “I’m serious. You can’t be here.”

“Where’s Eli?”

“Sleeping,” she says. “Like we all should be.”

I push past her again. There’s something she doesn’t want me to see over there—something she’s desperately trying to keep hidden. “He’s in that room, isn’t he?”

“ Who, Yulian?”

“Eli.”

I spy a glass wall behind the corner. Transparent—perfect for prisoners.

But before I can turn it, Mia’s hand closes around mine.

The contact is electric. It forces me to look back, chase it to the source, turn my back to the mysterious glass room. “Please, Yulian,” she whispers. “Just… stop.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific than that.”

“Pretending that you care.” She draws herself up, shoulders tight, expression unreadable. “I know everything.”

“Know—?”

“About your plans.”

Of course you do. I told you about them. Bared my fucking heart to you—every cut, every scar.

I clench my fists. Now isn’t the time to demand forgiveness. Not yet, not in the enemy’s lair. “We can talk about that later. Now, we need to get you to safety.”

“There’s nothing left to talk about.”

“Whatever Brad told you, Mia?—”

“I’m back with him.”

It takes eternity for those words to sink in. “Excuse me?”

“I’m back with Brad,” she repeats, voice cracking around every vowel. “For good this time.”

My first instinct is never to laugh. I rarely use those muscles at all. But tonight, I have to fight the urge to curl my lips and lift my eyebrows to the ceiling.

Because there’s no way that’s true, is there?

But Mia’s face is dead serious. “We’re going to be a family, Yulian. Like it was always supposed to be.”

“Bullshit.”

“I don’t care what you believe. It’s my choice.”

“At the cost of repeating myself: Bull. Shit. ”

Her lips press into a tight line. “Eli is Brad’s son. He deserves to have a father.”

“A father who beats his mother to a pulp?” My knuckles pop. “A father who’ll turn on him the second he screws up?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” I snarl. “I care about Eli. I?—”

“He was never yours, Yulian.” Mia’s hand clenches mine. “Just like I wasn’t.”

It cuts deeper than I thought it would. Loss. Heartbreak. I think back to that little boy in his room, glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling and that battered Garfield plushie held tight in his arms.

When exactly did I start thinking of Eli as mine, too?

And why does it hurt so fucking badly to let go?

“You’re lying.” I tip her chin up. It’s a bad idea to turn my back to an empty hallway, where the enemy could be lying in wait, but right now, I don’t give a shit. All I care about is searching for the truth in the sky blue of Mia’s eyes. “You’ve been mine since the day I met you.”

She swallows. I can feel her throat work against the back of my hand. “It’s over, Yulian,” she rasps. “It was never real. It couldn’t be.”

“I’ll decide what was real.”

“Yul—”

“I’m getting Eli,” I say. “Then you’re going to get in my car, and we’re going to talk at your apartment. You’re free to do whatever you want after that.”

Mia’s eyes widen with terror as I start turning back to the glass room. I follow the scared flick of her gaze, take a step towards the shadows?—

“I’m pregnant.”

And I stop.

Time stills. My breath, too, just below the sternum.

I turn back to Mia. “What?”

“I’m pregnant,” she blurts. “With Brad’s child.”

For a second, the world spins. “That’s a lie.”

“It’s not. I can prove it.”

“If Brad did anything to you, it would have been tonight.” And if that’s the case, he’ll wish he was dead. “That’s not long enough to get pregnant.”

“We’ve been meeting in secret,” she rasps in a dead, flat monotone. “Behind your back.”

“Have you now?” An angry vein starts pulsing at my temple. Of all the lies tonight, this one is the laziest, most disgusting one I’ve had to hear. “Tell me, when would that have happened? Where? I’ve had a camera at your door, a guard downstairs?—”

“The hospital.” Her hand has gone white around mine. “There’s an old supply closet no one uses.”

“You’re lying.”

“It’s on the second floor, right next to?—”

“You’re fucking lying !” I tear my hand from hers. “That didn’t happen. I would have known, I?—”

“You were distracted.” Her voice cracks, eyes brimming with tears. “You were desperately trying not to think about me. You had your job, your Bratva?—”

“You wouldn’t have done that to me.” Jealousy like I’ve never felt before grips my chest, its burning claws sinking deeper than I knew they could go. “You wouldn’t have done that to yourself.”

“But I did,” she croaks. Her face looks so guilty—so filled with shame. “I’m sorry, Yulian. We were both lying to each other.”

My certainty starts to waver. The image of Mia in my heart—strong, kind, loyal—abruptly finds itself at war with this other Mia: a weaker, selfish, treacherous version of herself, dressed in white like Brad’s little toy.

And suddenly, I can’t tell which one’s real.

“It’s over,” she repeats. “I want you to leave now.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

“You don’t mean a word you just said.”

“Guess that makes two of us, then.” Her features turn hard. “Because you didn’t mean a word you said to me, either.”

“Like hell I didn’t,” I snarl. “You’re my family. You and Eli, you’re?—”

“Your family’s dead!” she bursts. “They’re dead, Yulian. Dead and buried because of your failure. And we are not yours.”

It’s the last straw.

All this time, I’ve been killing myself not to love her. To forget the girl in the parking lot, the spitfire nurse who stood up to me when no one else would.

But if this is what she thinks of me…

Then perhaps she’s right.

We really have been lying to each other all along.

“He won’t change, you know.” I grind out those words like grit from a wound. “He’ll never change. Not for you, not for him. People don’t change, Mia.”

“I know.” Her gaze turns to steel on me. “I’ve finally learned my lesson. Looks like I’ve got you to thank for that.”

I don’t stay a second longer after that.

I push past her. She doesn’t stop me.

I throw open the door. She doesn’t stop me.

I drive off. She doesn’t stop me.

The Garfield plushie rolls down under the front seat. Cold, battered, abandoned.

Lesson fucking learned.