Chapter 6
ARTYOM
“My daughter.”
I wonder if Nina felt the nuclear explosion those words caused for me, obliterating every other thought. Who the fuck is the father?
I was her first.
I wanted to be her only.
But it looks like I’m too late for that.
Nina stared at me as though I’d grown two heads when she answered the question, her soft brown eyes wide at my surprise. As if it was blindingly obvious that she had a child.
It changes nothing about my intentions towards her. Purity is vastly overvalued, even if I do hate the fact that Nina has been with another man.
All this time apart, it never even crossed my mind that Nina might’ve been with someone else.
I made it very clear that she belongs to me. Surely she understands the consequences when she touches another man.
First and foremost, she belongs to herself. But we made a deal. I have a legal claim to her.
When another man touches her, he’s touching what’s mine.
When he puts a baby in her and abandons her, he is asking for a death sentence.
God, I hate surprises.
This is twice in a week that I’ve been blindsided.
First Vanya’s announcement sent me spiraling, and now I’m finding that I don’t know the fundamental facts of Nina’s life.
Despite the many precautions I’ve taken.
Ivan picks up on the second ring, his Russian accent thick.
“Boss? I have eyes on her, she just got home.”
“I know that,” I hiss. “What I want to know is how long you’ve known about her daughter.”
“Oh,” he clears his throat. “Ava. Well, yes, I’ve known about her for years.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“Your instructions were very clear. You didn’t want personal information about her, unless it was something that would put her in danger.”
I did say that. I wanted to ensure her safety, not stalk her. Even if I’ve come close to the line.
Nina is mine, but I took her sudden departure as a sign that she wanted space.
I’ve been holding back.
“I changed my mind.”
Ivan is silent for a second. “I’ll send everything I have.”
“Tonight. As soon as possible.” My voice is sharp.
“As you wish.”
I pause before asking this, not sure if I want to hear the answer.
“Who is the father?”
“He’s not around. I’ve never seen her with a man since she moved to the city.”
“Find him.”
I end the call.
The child is not the issue.
The issue is that the father of Nina’s child is out there, somewhere, no doubt obsessed with her.
He is a threat.
I stay up all night poring over the documents that Ivan sent through.
The files from Ivan show me nothing I don’t already know. Nina is hard-working, to the point of overwork. She takes on extra shifts at the hospital when people need cover. She’s underpaid, scrimping and saving to make ends meet, but she makes sure her daughter has a full and rich life.
As I read through the details of her appointments, travel and friends, the question of Ava’s father is never far from the top of my mind.
I pause on a recent photo of Nina, her arm slung around Daniel’s shoulders. Her hair is curled and loose, and she’s wearing an ugly green Christmas sweater that matches Daniel’s. She always likes that kind of bullshit.
It was taken at the hospital Christmas party last year, according to the notes Ivan took.
He is damn thorough. I hired the right man.
Even though I insisted that I wasn’t interested in the personal details of Nina’s life, he has prepared them for me anyway. As if it were obvious that my obsession with her would grow to this point.
The notes don’t say anything about a relationship with Daniel. And I suppose the timeline doesn’t match up either.
I don’t know a whole lot about kids, besides the devil spawn that my cousins have brought into the world, but Ava is at preschool. She’s no longer a baby.
There’s no mention of Daniel before Nina started working at Middlefield. But that whole period of her life remains a black hole in my information gathering.
If the rest of the Bratva knew that I had been paying someone full-time to ensure Nina‘s safety, I don’t think it would go well.
But I’m in charge of the money — if I say it’s a worthwhile expense, it is.
Nina‘s expenses are mundane and even meager. The occasional brunch with her friends, a very rare trip to a bar, mostly the grocery store, the daycare, and occasionally Starbucks.
Whoever this bastard is who left her with a daughter and without support, he doesn’t deserve to live.
No one treats Nina Porter like that and gets away with it, not as long as I’m alive.
I make a vow to myself.
If I find this man, and I will find him, I’ll make him suffer before he dies.