Chapter 27 – Egor
Five .
I stood by her side, clutching her hand tightly. The delivery room was a whirlwind of activity, but I focused solely on the beautiful woman beside me. Her eyes locked onto mine, and I saw a mix of exhaustion and anticipation. Her nostrils flared, and she inhaled deeply. Resilience flooded her eyes, and determination rested on her face.
Four.
The background noise of nurses and doctors talking, monitors beeping, and hearts pounding slowly faded into a quiet muffle when she screamed with all her might. There was the pain in her voice, the strength in her effort, and the stubbornness in her whimper when she sucked in a deep breath again.
Three.
And again.
Two .
And again.
One .
And then, it happened. A tiny, piercing cry filled the air, and our baby was born. An unusual lump sat in my throat when Freya broke into a sob, her face red and puffy with tears of joy streaming down.
The nurses stepped in, expertly cleaning and swaddling our little bundle before gently placing her in Freya’s arms. I watched, mesmerized, unable to move or speak as she whispered sweet nothings in our daughter’s ears.
As I gazed at them, something shifted within me. A surge of emotion overwhelmed me, took me by force, and bent me to its will—pure, unadulterated love. No fear, no doubt, just an intense desire to protect and cherish this tiny human.
My eyes drifted to Freya, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. That overwhelming flood came rushing back when she smiled at me, buckling my knees and sweeping me off my feet.
“I love you, Egor,” she blurted and kept on rambling. “I don’t…I don’t know when it happened, but I just…. It just…. I can’t explain it. But I…I love you so much.”
The room fell quiet, and around me, the doctor and nurses started filing out of the room, one after the other, to give us privacy. I was sure I’d stared at her for a long ass time because her smile began wobbling, and she looked back at our baby, hushing and sniffling.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, holding our daughter’s gaze, although I knew her words were directed at me. “It’s okay; you don’t have to love me back. I can understand that it’s not your thing or your way. I guess I’m fine with that.”
I looked at this woman, with her excited expression and beautiful brown eyes, knowing how badly I always wanted to keep her close, shielding her from harm. I thought about how I’d spent months ensuring she was happy. At first, I’d denied myself, saying I only made the extra effort for the baby, when all along, my conscience probed and poked.
The nights I tucked her in, held her close, spoon-fed her, and threatened her to be consistent with her pills…it all came rushing back. From the first moment she’d walked through those doors in that crisp blue shirt, pants, and black boots, with a sexy smile on her lips, to interrogate me, I’d known from the start—my heart had known — that this woman belonged to me.
The realization was both exhilarating and terrifying.
“Not my thing or my way, Detective?”
Her eyes snapped back up to mine, and I lowered myself, gently tipping her chin up to claim her lips the way I liked to. I tugged on her jaw to taste the mix of fruits on her tongue and her tears, ran my hand through her messy hair, and breathed the faint scent of strawberries and the sweat of triumph off her neck.
She giggled, like a giddy teenager would, when she pulled back, searching my eyes and rocking our daughter. “I’m all sweaty and…icky, Egor.”
I straightened up, a smirk on my lips and a hand in my pocket. I shrugged. “Well, that’s my way to tell you I love you, too.”
She went still, and her eyes widened to the size of frying pans. Her breasts went up and down as her chest heaved. “W—what?”
I arched a brow. “You want me to be louder? I will, but not right now because our baby is trying to sleep. When we’re alone, though, I’ll tell you a thousand fucking more times, whenever you want, that I love you. I’ll whisper it in your ears when we fuck. I’ll say it on your lips when you’re eating your yucky healthy smoothies.”
And she laughed because I said yucky . Her face lit up, the tears in her eyes twinkling like little stars on her lashes, and she was so fucking beautiful, my heart clenched.
In that moment, I knew I was all in.
I was ready to spend forever making this woman smile and holding her hand as we navigated whatever life threw at us.
****
Freya and I agreed to name our daughter Alina a day after returning from the hospital. It was five days, no, and we still hadn’t come out from the intense euphoria that we were now parents of one of the most beautiful girls in the world.
We stood by the door, Freya leaning into me as we watched her sleep in her cot beside our bed, her tiny chest rising and falling after every second.
Freya intertwined our fingers and whispered, “I could watch her all day.”
I laughed, kissed the back of her hand, and spun her to face me. The night our baby came, I’d decided to share a huge part of me that I’d kept hidden under lock and key for years now.
“I want to tell you something.” My laughter died down. She gave me an encouraging look, urging me on. “It’s about my uncle, Boris.”
She drew in a sharp breath and tried to pry her fingers away.
“Egor, we don’t have to talk about—”
“But I want to.” I pressed a kiss on her hair and wrapped an arm around her waist when she snuggled into my chest. “I know you love me now but still believe you watched me kill my uncle. I’m not denying it; you saw it. I did. I shot him twice in the head because I thought he fucking deserved to die.”
“Three years ago was when I found out. I was successful and gained popularity amongst our people. I had more influence, more wealth, and more support. My uncle knew what it meant when another member of the Yezhov bloodline had more favor over the sitting Pahkan . It wasn’t a good thing—to him, anyway—so he planned to kill me. I had solid proof: a video of him talking to one of my men to try and get me to a location. In my world, it’s either kill or be killed, and there was no way I was choosing to fucking die. So, he had to go.”
She frowned but looked at me with no hint of malice or grudge. “Why are you telling me this?”
This was the hard part.
“Because your father knew Boris Yezhov.” A cloud of emotion settled on her face. “And just like you, he tried to bring him down for all the crimes he’d committed. But not everyone survives Boris’ attempts.”
Without going further, she knew where I was headed. Tears gathered in her eyes, and she curled her fingers into my chest.
“No….”
I stroked her hair. “Boris didn’t like obstacles, and your father was one of his. He was gaining in on him, so Boris had him… eliminated. ”
A sob passed her lips when she held my eyes. “Did you know from the beginning?”
I shook my head. “At the family dinner, when you spoke about your family, my grandfather went quiet after hearing your father’s name. I asked him if he knew Aaron Fox, and he told me. He knew.”
I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close as she dissolved into tears. Her body shook with sobs, and I held her tighter, trying to absorb her pain.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” I whispered, my lips brushing against her hair. She clung to me, her fingers digging into my shirt as she cried. I stroked her back, feeling her tremble beneath my touch.
I held her, rocked her gently, and didn’t let go until her sobs slowly subsided, leaving behind a fragile calm.