Page 11

MIA

Yulian’s penthouse is as huge as I remember. No— bigger . “Did you… renovate?”

“I had a few guest rooms added,” he says like it’s no big deal.

Right. Of course. Who doesn’t add guest rooms to his place like it’s Minecraft?

Eli is already exploring, dashing through the big living room and marveling at the glass walls. “Is there a room for me, too?”

“Of course.” Yulian gestures to the left side of the penthouse. “Take your pick.”

“I can choose ?!”

“Only if you beat your mom to it.”

He hurtles like a bullet towards the hallway. “Dibs! Dibs!”

In the end, Eli picks the room in the middle. I suspect it’s because then, whichever one I pick will be next to his.

Like I would have it any other way.

Once he’s made his choice, he kicks off his shoes and crawls under the covers. “I’m tired, Mommy,” he yawns.

“Of course.” I brush the hair off his forehead and tuck him in. “Get some sleep, alright? I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“And Yulian, too?”

My heart twists. “And Yulian, too.”

I kiss him goodnight. I missed our ritual so much, I didn’t even realize how badly I needed it myself until now. Knowing my kid is safe in his bed, just a few paces away from me—it soothes me like nothing else.

By the time I’m at the door, he’s already snoring softly.

I join Yulian at the counter. “He’s asleep?” he asks.

“Out like a light.”

He nods. “Today was stressful. He probably needed it.”

“He’s been through so much.” I sigh, tension slipping off my shoulders. “I wish I could have protected him from all of that.”

Bad feelings crowd my mind again. Regrets, for not being a better mother. For putting my own son in the line of fire with my lies.

Then a hand touches my shoulder. Warm, strong— safe .

I turn, surprised, and meet Yulian’s gaze.

“You did the best you could,” he murmurs.

Without thinking, I cover his hand with mine. “Thank you,” I whisper. “For saving us. For giving us somewhere to stay.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.” I squeeze his hand. “If it weren’t for you…”

I don’t need to finish that sentence. “Brad can’t touch you here,” he growls. “He won’t ever touch you again.”

The flash drive burns a hole in my pocket. “I took something before I left,” I confess. “Hidden documents. From his laptop.”

Yulian frowns. “You think there’s something in there?”

“Maybe.” I sigh. “I don’t know. It’s all coded language.”

“Send it to me.”

I blink. “What?”

“Send it over,” Yulian repeats. “I’ll have Tikhon take a look. He loves a good puzzle.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say. “I… I don’t know how I can ever repay you. For all of this.”

He shakes his head, firm. “You don’t have to repay me. We’re—” Family, he starts to say, but stops. “We’re in this together.”

“Right.” I swallow the disappointment. Every reminder of how badly we’ve destroyed each other’s trust makes the guilt stab deeper. “I’ll send you everything in the morning.”

There’s a lull in the conversation. Silence wraps around us, filling the room with the weight of every word left unsaid. I watch Yulian’s muscles ripple on his face, his neck, the space where his collarbone meets his chest. His shirt is unbuttoned, letting his tattoos peek out.

For a moment, I let myself feel it. His presence, his warmth. His cologne, strong and woodsy and everything I’ve missed.

His lips are right there, I realize. If I leaned just an inch closer, I could capture them. I could feel them on me again.

For a moment, it would be like before.

And then he’d break your heart again.

“I—I’m a little tired, too,” I blurt, scrambling off the stool.

Yulian stiffens. I feel like I’ve broken a spell between us. “Of course,” he says tightly.

“I’ll just, um… go to sleep, if that’s okay.”

He nods. “Get all the rest you need.”

“Great. I’ll, um—see you in the morning.”

I start dashing away, but then he calls out, “Mia.”

“Yes?”

“I’m here for you.” His voice sounds rougher. Huskier, somehow. “For all three of you.”

Three.

I follow Yulian’s gaze to my belly. There’s an intensity there, a spark I didn’t know could exist, like a fire burning high. A claim.

It dawns on me, finally, that the baby growing inside me isn’t just mine anymore. It’s his, too. Half of him, half of me.

And he’ll protect it with all he has.

“Goodnight,” I whisper.

There’s no kiss, but for a moment, I wish there could be.

I spend the night tossing in bed, unable to sleep. I’m too nervous—too frayed.

Finally, I kick off the covers and sit up.

There’s a laptop on the desk, brand-new. I noticed it the second I walked in. I’m unsure if Yulian fit all the rooms with one for his guests—it would be a little overkill, even by his standards—but it’s a good thing it’s there. It’ll give me something to do.

I plug in my flash drive and wait.

There aren’t many new documents on it. I snatched it away too quickly. I wish I’d had the presence of mind to take Brad’s laptop—he certainly wasn’t going to stop me—but right then, I was feeling too much. I just wanted to get out of there.

Now, predictably, hindsight is kicking my ass.

Whatever. I don’t need every sin Brad ever committed—just one. One good piece of blackmail, and Eli and I will be free of his shadow forever.

I click on a file named “LES Investors.” Lower East Side —Brad’s latest requalification project.

Then my heart stops.

I stare at the screen for what feels like an eternity, but the words don’t change.

D.B. of P.

Those initials were everywhere. In the old papers I stole, dating back as far as Baldwin Senior’s time, and in the new ones, too. Only, this time, they’re no longer just initials.

It’s a full name.

Desya Bogdanov of Prizrak.

“No.” I try to tamp down my panic, but it’s useless. “No, Brad, you didn’t.”

But he did, didn’t he? He got into bed with Desya. With Prizrak. With the people who killed Yulian’s family.

And his father was in bed with them, too, twenty years ago.

Suddenly, Yulian’s words echo in my head. The words he spoke over Brad’s limp body, a gun in hand and fire in his eyes.

“Last time. Last fucking time I let him live.”

“He’s going to kill him,” I whisper.