Chapter 35 Yulian #2
“They were pretty supportive, Mom even reminded me that being with you doesn’t make me weak, and Dad said I don’t have to worry about leadership for decades, and as long as he’s alive, he’ll shoot anyone who dares to say anything about my sexual preferences.
” He smiles with a sense of pride. “My cousin Lidya knows, too, and so do her parents, as well as my paternal aunt and her husband. The whole family back in New York is aware I went on a suicide mission to save you, and Aunt Karina called me a knight in shining armor. Lidya wants to meet you and personally test your fighting skills to see if you can protect me, but ignore her. Mom and Dad definitely want to get to know you better. They can come over here if you’re open to that, but no pressure. ”
He sounds slightly winded, having blurted it out as if he’s been waiting to say it all this time.
“One more thing,” he continues, smiling, looking so liberated and happy, it’s contagious.
“I’ll also be telling my friends, but I want to do that in person.
Gareth already knows, but he’s known for a long time now.
We’ve been kind of giving each other advice about the whole being-into-men thing, and it went from there.
He’ll give you shit, just so you know, but I suppose that’s only fair with everything Cyrus has said to me… ”
He stops talking, probably because I’m watching him closely. His smile drops as he runs a hand through his hair. “No pressure, though. I realize that sounded like too much.”
I shake my head. “It’s not. I’m just surprised you’d do that.”
His brows draw together in that infamous Vaughn frown, and I kind of hate that I ruined his mood, but then he sighs. “I understand why you’d feel that way.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I’ve always tried to keep some distance between us, fought any of your advances or suggestions to bring us closer, and even called us temporary.
It makes sense that you’re wary about that, but I want you to know that I’d never do that again, baby.
I’m sorry it took the thought of losing you to finally shake me out of it. ”
“I’d die a thousand times—”
He places a palm over my mouth, his hand trembling. “Don’t say that.”
I smile against his palm, but that makes him frown harder.
“The moment I saw you slumped unconscious, my life flashed before my eyes, and it was full of regrets, of everything I should’ve done for you so you wouldn’t have ended up there. I felt like I failed you when you needed me the most, and I’ll never, and I mean never, let anyone hurt you again.”
I slowly remove his hand from my mouth so as not to trigger the pain too much. “The only person who’s able to hurt me is you. This injury is just physical. It means nothing.”
“It means something to me. God, I want to kill your dad.”
“Kind of impossible.” I sigh. “I thought of that, killing him, point-blank, ridding myself and Alya of him, but that would make us a target of the loyalists in Chicago. Almost everyone is on his side, even if Lukas is trying to recruit them. But he could be a worse option since, well, he never liked me or Alya and would get rid of us to make sure no one would oppose him.”
“There must be something we can do,” he muses.
“Love it when you get all scheming, baby.”
His lips part, then he bites down on the corner of the bottom one. “You called me baby again.”
“Well, you are my baby, Mishka.” I touch his face, determined to at least get a kiss. Fuck my broken body. We should be fucking in the dirtiest way possible right now. Just saying.
A knock lands on the door, interrupting the moment. Vaughn clears his throat as he releases me, leaving me empty as fuck, but at least he doesn’t get up. “Come in.”
A tall, broad guy fills the doorway like he owns the damn building—and judging by the three-piece suit that fits him like it was sewn on him, he probably does.
Everything about him is sharp, from his clean-shaven jaw to the way those frameless glasses sit perfectly straight on his nose.
He’s got that whole polished, ruthless vibe, the type of man who could order someone’s execution while adjusting his cuff links.
One look and I just know this is a man who doesn’t shout to get what he wants.
He just exists, and the room falls in line.
And yet he smiles warmly at Vaughn and speaks in Russian. “Am I interrupting, Zolotoy?”
“No, not at all,” Vaughn says, then motions at me. “Uncle, this is Yulian. Yulian, this is my uncle, Anton.”
I’m suppressing a smile because Vaughn’s uncle calls him Zolotoy—the golden one—that’s so adorably fitting.
“Nice to meet you, sir. Thank you for hosting me.” I try to sit up, but Vaughn pins me back down.
“Don’t make your injuries worse, Yulian.”
“I just want to say hello to your uncle properly.”
“Stay still. He’ll understand.” He looks at Anton, who’s just smiling. “Right?”
“Right,” he says in accented English.
“I can speak Russian, so there’s no need to switch to English.” I say, “Kabardian, too. Though not so well. Haven’t spoken it in ages.”
“Kabardian?” Anton asks, and Vaughn raises his brows. Right, we didn’t discuss family ties much because I used all the time we had to fuck.
I mean, I told him about Mom’s origins and my dedushka, but I didn’t mention the language thing.
“Mom’s family comes from Kabardino-Balkaria, a pretty aristocratic family, actually, historically full of warrior nobility and lots of wealth. Beishev, if you’ve ever heard of them.”
“I have, indeed,” Anton says, sounding impressed. “Are any of them still around?”
“No. Dad, a complete nobody, by the way, took over the estate after Mom’s death.”
“There’s still you and Alina,” Vaughn reminds me softly.
He sure knows all the right things to say for a grumpy little shit.
There’s another knock before the door swings open, and in walks a guy who’s…massive. Bigger than me, if that’s even legal.
The man looks like a weapon. He’s all muscle, poured into combat cargos and a tight gray T-shirt that leaves zero mystery.
He has a buzz cut sharp enough to slice through glass and a face that should be intimidating but isn’t—because unlike Anton’s carved-from-marble poker face, this one actually smiles, then hugs Anton from behind, dropping a kiss to his cheek.
“Miss me, Antosha?” he asks, and I feel like I’m intruding.
“Behave, Maks,” Anton says. “Say hello to Yulian.”
The guy finally notices me, because he’s only been looking at Anton since he walked in.
He hits Vaughn on the shoulder affectionately. “Zolotoy.”
“Uncle Maks.”
“Hi, Yulian. I’m Maksim. Maks is fine.” He watches me. “Get well soon and I’ll take you on the best hike. Do you shoot?”
“Better than Vaughn.”
“He’s not that much better,” Vaughn argues.
I laugh. “Slightly better.”
“You kids won’t win against me and Anton, just so you know. Ex-spetsnaz right in front of you. Antosha and I killed it back then.” Maks laughs, wrapping an arm around Anton’s shoulder. “Anyway, welcome to our home.”
“Is it, though?” Anton asks with a raised brow. “Since you spent the whole day outside.”
“I was babysitting for Mike.”
“Is building a war zone for a two-year-old called babysitting now?”
“It’ll make him stronger. You’ll all thank me later.” Maks hugs Anton from behind again, resting his chin on his shoulder. “Would’ve been much better if you’d joined me, though.”
I stare between them, feeling a fuzzy kind of feeling. These two men, equally powerful in their own way, seem to be the happiest couple alive, right in the heart of Russia.
“Mike is their son,” Vaughn tells me. “He’s actually Mom and Uncle Anton’s cousin, but my uncles adopted him when he was around eight.
He got married a couple of years ago, and now Uncle Maks seems to think Mike’s two-year-old son is his army project.
” He pauses, then raises his hand. “Those are Mom’s words, not mine. ”
“Well, I told her he is,” Maks says. “The boy has so much potential.”
“He’s two years old, Maks,” Anton says. “I’ll be joining from now on just to stop your ridiculous plans.”
“As long as you join, I can change your mind,” Maks says with a grin, then drops a kiss on Anton’s mouth.
Vaughn holds my hand, smiling at me, and for a moment, just this moment, I can see our future in Anton and Maksim.
And just for this time, I believe everything will be fine.