13. Kotic
CHAPTER 13
Kotic
ALISTAIR
We both shower and make our way downstairs. I’m in the mood for champagne—an especially expensive bottle. Baby Alex is still asleep. I stand and study him for a moment, making sure he’s still breathing. His chest rises and falls, and I am reassured. I pull the blanket over his legs where he has kicked it off. I wish I could look at him without seeing Mariya, but she’s there every moment we’re together. A ghost watching over her son. I wonder if I’ll always be haunted by her.
I grab a vintage bottle out of the fridge and reach for two flutes.
“Ooh,” purrs Ivy behind me, stroking my ass. “What are we celebrating?”
“The fact that you’re on the pill,” I joke. Kind of.
“Ha ha.”
“Although,” I say, gesturing at sleeping Alex, “I don’t know why people always say how much work babies are. I mean, look at him.”
Ivy laughs. “Oh, you billionaires. Such a warped sense of, well, everything.”
I grab her and pull her body towards mine, kissing her. God, I love her. She’s so fucking delectable.
“We’re celebrating being alive,” I say. “We’re celebrating multiple orgasms, magical pussies, and women kind enough to take in someone else’s baby because I fucked up.” I open the bottle with a muted popping sound and pour us a glass each. “We’re also celebrating getting our siblings back. Jamie waking up, and Ariana returning from the dead.”
Even though she tried to kill us.
Ivy touches her glass to mine. “Any news on Ariana?”
“Not yet, but that’s why we’re having dinner tonight —a family meeting to discuss the way forward.”
“Just to be clear,” says Ivy. “You don’t want to talk about kink at the dinner table?”
I chuckle. “I love talking about kink at the dinner table. Just not when it’s my mother’s dinner table.”
“Fair enough,” she says, shrugging and taking another swig.
We’re quiet for a moment, lost in our thoughts.
“I still can’t really believe what happened with Ariana,” says Ivy. “And she’s not even my sister.”
I square my shoulders and clear my throat. “The important thing is that she’s alive,” I reply. “The rest is fixable.”
My phone rings. I decide not to pick up until I see the caller ID. Blackwood.
Ivy gestures for me to go ahead.
“Blackwood.” I am curt. “I’ve just opened a perfectly chilled bottle of 2012 Dom Perignon. This interruption had better be worth it.”
“I see I’m still in the dog box, then,” he replies.
“At this stage, I trust Bijou more than you … and she pees on the carpet.”
“Ouch,” he says. “Trumped by an incontinent French bulldog.”
“I’ll take incontinence over incompetence any day of the week.”
“Jeez. You really know how to hurt a grown man’s feelings.”
I sigh. “Blackwood. My drink is getting warm. What is it that you want?”
“I want to make sure that your family stays safe."
“I’m listening.”
“I’ve been watching the Glass Baron. I’m not happy with what I’ve seen.”
I sigh and tap my glass, waiting for him to continue. Patience has never been my strong suit, except maybe in the bedroom—and even then only sometimes.
“I know this will draw your ire, but I’m getting the feeling that things are a bit … off.”
“A bit off.”
“My instinct is throwing up red flags. I’d like to dig a little, with your permission.”
“You have my permission,” I reply. And my generous retainer, which I’m not sure he deserves anymore. “What is your plan exactly?”
“Let me get some eyes on Mikhail. I’ll revert with a plan as soon as I have one.”
“Why so grumpy all of a sudden?” asks Ivy. “I thought we were celebrating.”
“That was Blackwood.”
“Your intel guy?”
I nod and take a slug of my drink. “He has a bad feeling about Kuznetsov.”
“A bad feeling about the bloodthirsty Russian mafia? How shocking.”
“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, my little kotik .”
“Kotik?”
“My little kitten.”
“Kotic. I like that. I’m your little pussycat.” She wiggles her perfect eyebrows suggestively. “Maybe we should try some Russian dirty talk.”
“If you don’t mind, I think I prefer sticking to the Queen’s English.”
Ivy shrugs. “Have it your way.”
“It’s the only way I like it,” I reply.
“There are those control issues again.”
I grab her, my hands firm. “You like it when I’m in charge.”
“Oh, I do,” she says, then bites me on the shoulder.
The baby starts grizzling, so I let her go while I move to pick him up.
Ivy watches me. “Shall we take Alex with us to the hospital?”
I pick him up and realize he needs a new diaper just as a cheerful Brumilde breezes in with new baby supplies. “Nope,” I reply, handing him over.