Page 19

MIA

After that, Yulian takes charge. He reassures Eli, puts him in the car with a drowsy-eyed Nikita, and sends him off to school.

When he comes back, he finds me on the bathroom floor.

“Hey.” Yulian grabs my shoulders and tips up my chin. “I meant what I said. We’ll fight this.”

I want to believe him so badly. But Mr. Lee’s words keep swirling in my head, reminding me of how slim my chances are.

“I suggest you spend as much of that time as you can with your son. Just in case.”

Yulian looked like he wanted to rip his face off. But he was right, wasn’t he? Mr. Lee was right: I don’t stand a chance.

I’m not a good mother. I’ve never been good enough for Eli, not really. A judge will take one look at the stove incident and sign off on sole custody for Brad.

I never reported him. Never had the police take pictures of my bruises, never had doctors give me kits. Just hid my head in the sand, disappeared, and prayed he’d never find us again.

But he did find us. And now, he’s going to take everything from me.

I don’t realize I’m hyperventilating until Yulian’s hands come up to my cheeks.

“Mia. Breathe with me.”

I cling to his voice with all I’ve got. His commands, steady and sure—they’re my only anchor to sanity.

If I do as he says, I’ll be okay. If I do as he says ? —

“Good girl. Just like that.”

Slowly, the world clears. “I’m sorry,” I rasp. “I’m such a mess.”

“You’re not a mess.” Yulian sounds so confident, but how can he? How, when he’s just seen me lose it over a freaking letter? “This isn’t your fault. None of it. You got that?”

But it is. My secret burns in my chest, all the documents I destroyed. I thought Eli would be better off with Brad being alive, but what if I was wrong? What if this is my punishment?

“Mia. Talk to me.”

I want to. I want to tell Yulian everything so badly. But what will he do when he finds out I’ve lied to him again? What if he decides he can’t trust me?

What if he decides to take my baby, too?

“I… I’m scared,” I sob. It’s the only truth I can tell him—the only piece that won’t make him hate me. “I don’t want to lose him, Yulian. I can’t. Not to Brad.”

The second I speak his name, Yulian’s expression turns vicious. Like a wolf ready to attack. “He won’t get Eli,” he swears. “You have my word.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I just did.”

“Yulian, please?—”

“Hush. Listen to me, kotyonok. ” He tilts my head up, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I have a friend. He’s the best lawyer in the city. He’ll fix this.”

“I c-can’t afford?—”

“No, but I can.”

I shake my head frantically. “I can’t accept that. W-We’re not even together anymore, you don’t have to?—”

“Together or not, you’re my family now. You, Eli, and this little one right here.” As if on cue, the baby in my belly stirs, kicking lightly under Yulian’s palm. Yulian’s gaze darkens. Protective—possessive. “You’re mine. All of you. And I won’t let that mudak touch what’s mine ever again.”

I don’t deserve him, neither his kindness nor his protection. Not after I lied to him for the sake of the man he calls a mudak, whatever the hell that means. From context, I’d guess nothing good.

Then I remember what he said at Brad’s place.

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

“Please,” I whisper. “Just promise me you won’t kill him.”

Yulian’s jaw flexes. He’s displeased with me, I can tell. But he gives me a curt nod anyway. “I’ll call my friend.”

“Thank you,” I croak.

He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Anything for you . ”

I lift my head. He lowers his, lashes at half-mast, lips parted. He’s so fucking gorgeous, and I’m— I’m nothing.

I don’t deserve him.

But I still want him.

I lean in for a kiss. Because I’m weak, because I’m awful—a liar and a cheat and the worst person in the universe.

But right now, I need him. I need him so bad it hurts.

I tilt my head, brush my lips to his?—

DING-DONG!

—oh, come on.

“If it’s more mail,” I whisper, “I’m smashing your doorbell.”

Yulian gives me a wolfish smirk. “I’ll get it. Don’t move.”

It’s exactly what I plan to do.

Until I hear it.

A voice—no, two voices—no, three of them.

Three voices I haven’t heard in years.

I stumble out of the bathroom like a crazy person. My eyes are red and puffy, my face streaked with tears, my hair a mess. And at the door?—

“Euphie? Is that you, honey?”

“… Mom? ”