Chapter 45 Sima
SIMA
I can’t get his words out of my head.
I know it’s been weeks since then. That we were in a much worse place, that he was acting out of anger. I do.
But the way he talked about wanting an heir still needles at me.
He said that at the beginning, too. Before everything got better and then worse. Our arrangement—it was always about us producing an heir. A boy.
Petyr loves Lilia. I know he does. She’s his whole world, and I couldn’t be prouder of him as a dad.
But…
What if he still wants a boy after this? As soon as possible?
All evening, that thought sits heavy in my chest. I can’t focus on anything. I try to read, but the words mix together in front of my eyes.
When I pass the nursery, I stop at the door. Lilia’s asleep, her tiny hand curled near her face. I touch the doorframe and look at her, just for a few seconds. Because I can, because she’s perfect, and—
Because she might not be enough for him.
By the time I crawl into bed, my stomach’s in knots. I lie on my side and stare at the wall, trying to force myself to be calm. But my body says nope.
My fingers twitch, my chest feels too tight. Every time I close my eyes, I hear his voice again: an heir.
“Hey.”
My head snaps up. I didn’t even hear Petyr come in. “Hi.”
The mattress dips when he gets in beside me.
His hand slides over my waist, warm and familiar.
He pulls me closer like he always does, but I don’t melt into him this time.
My body stays stiff. I don’t know how to ask without sounding paranoid or needy, but the silence between us feels more and more ominous by the second.
He notices. “What’s wrong?” he murmurs against my shoulder.
“Nothing,” I lie.
He doesn’t buy it. Of course he doesn’t. He’s always been able to tell my truths from my lies. From day one, I couldn’t hide a single thing from him.
He brushes his thumb along my side, slow and patient. “You’re shaking. Talk to me.”
I swallow hard. “What you said about wanting a boy… an heir…”
He pauses. “Yeah?”
“Is that still the case?” My gaze falls to my hands, fisted in the duvet. “Do you still…?”
There’s a long silence. I can feel him breathe against my back, steady, quiet. “I do,” he admits. “But that doesn’t mean I want her any less, Sima.”
“Of course,” I hurry to say. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Then what is it?”
“I just…” I take a deep breath. “I don’t know if I’m ready yet, Petyr. Lilia’s so small. I want to be there for her. Becoming pregnant again so soon, carrying another child… I’m not sure I want that yet. Not right now.”
“But eventually?”
“I mean, yeah. I want a big family. I just… I don’t want them to grow up like I did.” I force the words out, even if they’re painful. “I don’t want them to feel ignored. And I don’t want Lilia to think we had her just because we were trying for a boy, and then she wasn’t enough, so we—”
“Sima.”
My mouth falls shut. I turn to Petyr and pray he can see the truth in my eyes. That he can read everything there that I can’t find the words to say properly.
I want everything with you. A family. Kids. I do.
But I want to make Lilia feel loved, too.
He looks at me for a long moment. I search for traces of anger on his face, but there’s nothing.
“I grew up in a world where having a son was the only way to guarantee your legacy.” He says it calmly, matter-of-factly. “It was drilled into me since I could walk. My father staked his will on it.” He exhales. “But it doesn’t mean I think that way anymore.”
“Don’t you?”
“I don’t know.” He turns his eyes to me. “Maybe part of me still believes it’s what I’m supposed to want. But it’s not what I need.”
“What do you need then?”
“You.”
My heart skips a beat. You. Not heirs, not an army of kids to feed to the Bratva’s ranks—me. Little old me, plain as they come.
My chest clenches. Tears gather at the corners of my eyes. “You mean it?”
“I do.”
“Even if I don’t want to try for a boy right now?”
Petyr sighs softly and gathers me into his arms. His chest is warm against my back, and I can feel the weight of his breath before he speaks.
“Of course I’d like a son one day,” he says. “More children, eventually. Boys, girls, doesn’t matter to me. But only when you’re ready.”
He tips up my chin. His hold is so gentle, I feel like I could cry.
“And if Lilia is the only daughter we’ll ever have… then I’m good with that, too.” His gaze is surprisingly soft. “Because she’s ours.”
I want to believe him so badly. I do.
But… “What about your Bratva?”
“What about it?”
“I don’t know.” I gesture wildly. “Succession. Drama. All that Habsburg nonsense that always seems to be going down.”
He shakes his head. “Habsburg? Really?”
“It’s the first name that popped into my head.” I shrug. “You’re the history buff, not me.”
“Right.” He pulls me close. “My hold on my Bratva is strong, Sima. No one’s challenging me. And Dimitri’s recovery—it’ll take time. A long time. Though I hope not that long.”
“Of course,” I whisper. “We all do.”
“If we don’t have another child before he does, then fine. It’s not a competition. We’ll sort that out when we get there.” His voice softens. “You and Lilia come first. Always. The rest is just noise.”
The tension in me starts to crack. I turn to face him.
His eyes are clear, no shadow there, no hint of cruelty.
Just my Petyr. The one who wakes up in the middle of the night to check the baby monitor.
Who brings me tea when I’m too tired to move and falls asleep sitting up, with our daughter curled up on his chest.
“You mean that?” I choke out.
He nods. “Every word.”
Something breaks open in my chest. Relief hits hard, sharp at first, then warm. I press my face against his neck and breathe him in. He smells like cedarwood and ash. A forest fire.
I don’t know how I got here. An arrangement that started with blackmail and kidnapping somehow turned into this.
I think about the wedding where I met him. The bride who stole a car and ran away. I’d envied her back then.
Now, I can’t thank her enough for walking away.
I pull back just enough to whisper, “Okay.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Okay,” he repeats.
I don’t know when I drift off to sleep. Maybe it’s seconds later, maybe hours. All I know is that we stay like that, curled into each other, the steady beat of our hearts in sync.
We have a daughter. A beautiful, healthy baby girl. A family.
We have each other.
And if that’s enough for Petyr…
Then it’s enough for me, too.