Page 64

MIA

Brad’s body lurches back, as if thrown by an invisible hand. His back hits the ground with a thump. Dread rises within me, my heart still pumping with adrenaline from everything that just happened.

I keep both hands firmly over Eli’s ears. “It’s okay,” I croon, calming him down as he shakes. “We’re okay.”

But Brad is not.

I can still see the smoke rising from Yulian’s gun. He’s standing next to us, impassive, the cold eyes of a general on the battlefield.

My gaze darts to Brad’s body, lying face-up on the ground.

“I’ve got him,” Nik urges, scooping Eli in her arms. “Go.”

Slowly, I walk up to the body. Yulian falls into step with me, pocketing Brad’s gun on the way over.

Then I see it.

A bullet hole?—

In Brad’s shoulder .

I slump with relief. “You didn’t…”

“No, I didn’t kill him.” Going by Yulian’s tone, it cost him a great deal of restraint. “I knew you wouldn’t want it.”

My heart fills with warmth. Because he listened to me, because he put my needs for peace before his thirst for blood. Because he put my son’s needs above everything else.

“Thank you,” I murmur.

But my gratitude is short-lived. Soon, another feeling overtakes it. Something I’ve been smothering for Eli’s sake, so I could save him and comfort him. As I watch Brad writhe on the concrete, that feeling leaps to the forefront, and suddenly, I remember its name.

Fury.

I lean over Brad. He’s twisting like a worm, moaning in pain. “You?—”

“No.” I put my palm over the bullet wound. “No more talk from you. You’ll listen to me now.”

Then I press down hard.

Brad howls. He tries to pry me off, but Yulian pins his good arm to the ground with his foot, keeping him still.

I should feel bad about this. Breaking my oath, this time on purpose. Not because of extenuating circumstances, but because I want to.

But I don’t.

Because, as it turns out, there isn’t a single oath I wouldn’t break for my children.

“You tried to rape me,” I growl in Brad’s sweat-beaded face. “To kidnap me and kill my daughter. Then you put a gun to my son’s head.”

“H-He’s my ? — ”

“No, he’s not,” I cut in. “He’s not yours anymore. You gave that right away the second you tried to punch him out of me. And then again tonight, when you threatened to shoot him.”

“I d-didn’t—” he gasps. “I saved him! I let him go!”

“I know. That’s the only reason I’m offering mercy right now. Because somewhere in that rotten heart of yours, you actually care about him after all.” I pin him with a glare. “So here’s what’s gonna happen.”

I grab his chin, force him to look at me as I speak. I want him to remember this—to burn each word into his memory. He won’t have a chance to hear it twice.

“Earlier, I recorded everything you said,” I explain. “All your dirty little secrets about your business: your shell companies, your mob ties, the people you had killed. You wanna know where that recording went?”

“W-Where?”

“To the feds.”

Brad’s face goes white. “N-No. You can’t?—”

“Yes, I can.” My voice turns to ice. “And I just did.”

As if on cue, sirens start blaring. Brad’s face goes from white to green.

I feel my lips curl into a smile. The first genuine smile of the night.

“I’ll give you a head start. If you run, we won’t come looking.

But if you so much as think of stepping foot in New York again, it’s on sight.

” I dig my nails into his face. Whether they’ll leave a scar or not, I don’t know, and I don’t fucking care. “Nod if you understand.”

He nods instantly. Repeatedly.

Satisfied, I let go.

Brad staggers upright. He stares at me, then at Yulian, eyes wide with terror.

“Oh, and one more thing,” I add.

Then I punch his nose in.

The satisfying crack echoes in the night. It doesn’t give me as much of a rush as could have—Desya already broke Brad’s septum, after all—but it sure as shit feels good.

Brad howls again, both hands flying to his bleeding face. “You b?—!”

“What was that?” Yulian snarls.

Then he grabs Brad by the collar.

Until now, he’s been keeping a respectful distance, letting me get out everything I needed to say. But he isn’t doing that anymore. He’s got rage, too, boiling just beneath the surface.

And, for the first time in my life, I don’t feel like stopping him.

“What were you about to call her?” he asks again, slamming him into the nearest wall. “Say it, you worthless piece of shit. Insult the woman I love to my face. See what fucking happens.”

Brad’s mouth zips closed. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t blink, doesn’t so much as breathe.

I’d be lying if I said I’m not enjoying every second.

“Right,” Yulian spits. “That’s what I thought.”

He tosses Brad into the street like he’s trash. “Now, get the fuck out of my sight. Before I decide to remind you what happens when you touch what’s mine.”

Brad scrambles to his feet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him run this fast in his life. It’s like his shoes have sprouted wings. Within seconds, he’s lost in the night.

I let out a breath. Feel my heart slowing down, one pounding beat at a time.

“So,” Yulian drawls, bumping our shoulders together. “The feds?”

“I didn’t actually call them,” I confess. “Didn’t think it would be wise to bring the federal government into our, ahem, business . Those sirens were just a happy coincidence.”

“But you have the recording.”

“I do.” I grin and stick my tongue out. “Tikhon’s gift. Ingestible whatsitcalled. Hopefully, it downloads somewhere and we don’t have to dig it out.”

Yulian bites down a grin. He pulls me close and kisses me. It’s a long, sweet kiss, one that leaves me full with the promise of more. “You were brave, Nurse Winters,” he whispers against my lips. “I’m proud of you.”

“Why, thank you, Mr. Lozhkin. So did you.” I glance towards the parking lot. Every single camo-wearing soldier is on the floor, which makes me think the blood’s all theirs. “What happened with Desya?”

“I showed him mercy.” He caresses my lips with his thumb, almost reverent. “He didn’t suffer. Not in the end.”

My heart swells. “Then I’m proud of you, too.”

Desya was as troubled as they come. If Yulian managed to see that, see past his desire for revenge and get closure for them both, then…

He really has changed.

“What about Gwen?” I ask.

“Oh, she suffered, alright. Nik saw to it.”

“Can’t say I’m too torn up about it.”

Yulian stares into my eyes, his gaze soft. “Yes, you are. But that’s what I love about you.”

What I love about you. The Yulian I first met never used to say things like these. Never used to wear his heart on his sleeve, too busy pretending he didn’t have one.

But he’s not that Yulian anymore.

Now, he’s my Yulian.

We kiss again. This time, we’re interrupted by a tiny voice calling out, “Mommy! Daddy!”

Yulian freezes. But Eli doesn’t even notice, too busy wrapping himself around his pant leg like a tiny little eel. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he says when we both look down at him. “Thanks for saving me.”

“Technically, your mom saved—” I elbow him lightly in the side. “… You’re welcome, son.”

Son. It warms me from the inside—to hear him call Eli that. To hear Eli’s little voice call him “Daddy” with all the joy in the world.

I thought I’d broken up my son’s family for good. That I’d robbed him of the chance to have a father.

Turns out, he just hadn’t met his real dad yet.

Nikita joins us. Maksim, too, a rifle slung carelessly across his shoulder. “Kalinda?” he calls into his phone. “Yep, we’re all breathin’. Would you mind pulling the car around? I think we’ve got thirty seconds before the cops get here. Forty, tops.”

Wow. Kallie’s driving getaway. Talk about adapting quickly to the mob girlfriend life.

“What do you say?” Yulian holds out his hand to me. “Ready to go home?”

Home. Our home. Mine, and Yulian’s, and Eli’s—and soon, our baby girl’s, too.

“Yeah.” I accept his hand. “I’m ready.”