48. Kirill
Kirill
The car reaches the road, and seeing Drago slip back inside, I relax. I don’t recall much of the drive back to Iron Keep. The mansion rising in the distance unclenches a few taut muscles in my neck.
No one followed us, no one else shot at us.
Before the car has even stopped, Sandrine has unbuckled Violet.
My wife slides out, and when Violet is out of the car, her mother lifts her, carrying my daughter into the house.
I watch her chin rest on Sandrine’s shoulder.
Her sad eyes lock on mine. I’m not sure if my daughter is focused on me or staring into space. But I’m focused on her. And her mother.
“Drago,” I say as we step inside the kitchen. “Kill the driver. He wasn’t supposed to stop for fucking gas. At a fucking random gas station. The tank was more than half full. He had to have been in on the abduction, too.”
I would torture him myself for information, for a confession. To know for sure that I’m not killing an innocent man. Those were the old days.
Drago’s lips set in a harsh line. “Yes, Pakhan. I’ll do forensics to look for strange payments.”
I don’t watch him leave. I march deeper into the house and up the stairs straight to Violet’s room.
Sandrine sits on her bed and has already stripped her of her school uniform. They’re singing. They’re coping.
“She should have a bath,” I interrupt.
“I’m already running one,” Sandrine answers quickly, her voice still rough around the edges. “I got it.”
“It’s my night.” My voice jolts as Violet stomps over to me.
“Don’t fight,” she murmurs, hugging me.
“Let Aunt Ksenia finish getting you cleaned up. I have to talk to Mommy.” I look down at her sad eyes.
I don’t know how a child of five knows that what happened today is a failure of the security she’s had since birth.
“It was my fault, Daddy,” she says, pulling on my jacket. “I had to go to the bathroom. I should have gone in the ice cream parlor with Emily. I thought I could hold it.”
“Who’s Emily?” I turn just enough to look at Sandrine over Violet’s shoulder.
“For her birthday, Daddy.” She shakes me to divert my attention.
The birthday party.
Sandrine’s eyes close and she stands up, holding herself in the middle. But she says nothing. That silence tells me everything I need to know. She defied me. She…betrayed me.
I speak, each word tight and measured. “I specifically told you to bring Violet home. No birthday party. This is why.”
Violet’s arms tighten around my waist as she jumps up and down.
“Don’t yell at Mommy!” she cries, her voice breaking. “She’ll get sick again and leave.”
I’ve been stabbed and shot at defending this Bratva. Violet’s worry that Sandrine will leave again drives a stake straight through my ribs and carves out my fucking heart. She isn’t afraid of me. She’s terrified of losing her mother again.
Ksenia appears in the doorway before I can react.
“Solnyshko, let me help you get cleaned up,” my sister says, arm stretched. “Let Mommy and Daddy talk. Grown-up stuff. It doesn’t concern you, little sunshine.”
Sandrine snaps out of her trance and lifts Violet again. “No. I’m doing her bath. Kirill, you and I will talk later.”
I watch Violet cling to her mother, fingers wrapping around the back of her neck as she’s carried off to the bathroom.
I’m dying inside, watching the door slam shut.
I wanted Sandrine here. I needed a mother for my daughter.
I needed a wife to take my place as head of the Volkov Brotherhood.
I didn’t know how it would feel to share her with Violet.
How it would feel to be so angry and so in love at the same time.
To watch what I say to Sandrine in front of Violet, fearing I’ll emotionally scar her for life, like I’m scarred watching my father abuse my mother.
Violet never gave up that I would find her mother. Not really. Not with the stories I gave her. The careful lies about a mother who was someplace far from us, not lost, not dead. But living in a magical realm trying to find her way back to us.
Now she’s here, in our lives. But I’m clearly not over my hurt and betrayal of her leaving me when I asked her not to.
“Ksenia, come with me to my private office,” I say to my sister, who needs a briefing on this abduction. “We have to find who did this.”
I walk to the bathroom door and give a gentle knock. “I’ll be back,” I say and then leave, closing the bedroom door.
My sister follows me to my private office in silence. Once I get inside and turn to her, she cracks her hand across my face, snapping all other thoughts cleanly in half.
“What is wrong with you?” she demands, her voice low but furious.
The smell of copper blooms in my nose. Before I can say anything, one of my house guards has his weapon halfway to Ksenia’s fucking head. The poor bastard looks torn apart by the decision, his loyalties shredded.
“Get the fuck out,” I bark at the guard, the command cutting through the tension like an axe.
He disappears instantly, and I lock the door behind him. Ksenia and I have spouses, but we still share a bond that I refuse to let be broken or tarnished. Smacking me in the face, however, is unacceptable.
“If you ever strike me again…” I start, my voice rough and edged with darkness.
“What?” she challenges me when I can’t finish. “My husband is your enforcer.”
A growl builds in my chest, but she doesn’t back down.
“You need to get a hold of yourself,” she says, her tone softening and growing steadier. “You were being unreasonable. You announced your wife was home. You showed her off to all of Chicago. It was only a matter of time before someone would challenge the peace.”
I stare at my sister, breathing hard through my bloodied nose, the anger softening with her words of wisdom and reality.
“Sandrine asked me if she could take Violet to a strange house for a birthday party,” I explain my position. “I told her no. She defied me. Went with the woman to an ice cream parlor instead. One that wasn’t vetted ahead of time.”
“Violet is allowed to have friends,” Ksenia says. “To go to birthday parties. When that stops, the enemies have won.”
The words settle into me whether I want them to or not, digging in beneath the anger.
“It gave the guards an opportunity for those enemies to take them,” I bite out.
“Then you didn’t vet those guards well enough,” she fights back.
A knock stops me from finishing this argument. “Come in.”
“The doctor is here,” Nadia, who stayed all this time, says from behind the closed door.
I exhale slowly, dragging a hand down my face. “You called the doctor?” I ask my sister.
“I didn’t know what we’d face.” Ksenia folds her arms. “For either of them. Have you forgotten Sandrine’s disability?”
The reminder hits harder than the slap. I lean in and press a brief kiss to my sister’s cheek. “Of course not. Once Violet is tended to, I’ll deal with Sandrine. Thank you.”
I turn away and hike back to Violet’s bedroom.
Dr. Lau is already in there, examining her. My daughter is sitting up in bed, dressed in her favorite pajamas, all clean from her bath. Sandrine sits behind her, carefully working through the ends of her long, damp hair with a comb.
Violet lets the doctor examine her, but asks, “Did you bring my favorite lollipops this time?”
He smiles, reaching into his coat. “Sure did. Now let me finish taking a look at you. Can you go sit in your desk chair for me?”
Violet moves without argument, and I watch as the doctor completes his examination. His hands are steady, his voice calm as he asks her questions and she answers with surprising clarity.
Sandrine stands and tries to leave the bedroom.
“Wait,” I say, reaching for her before she can get too far away from me. “I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head immediately. “No. I’m sorry. You said not to go—”
“No,” I cut her off, my hand tightening around her arm. “I’ve replayed it a hundred times in my head. This wasn’t because you took Violet for ice cream. By the time you stepped out of that SUV, the trap was already waiting.”
“But if we hadn’t gone—”
“It didn’t matter.” I press my lips to her forehead before she can finish. “The driver shouldn't have stopped. Not with my wife and daughter in the vehicle. He betrayed me. He put you exactly where they wanted you. The guards are dead because of him.”
Let him rot in his shallow grave.
The anger from that betrayal starts to rise again. I feel her shift under my hand, pulling back slightly.
“No,” I say quickly, forcing the edge out of my voice. “I’ll never hurt you.”
“I know who you are,” she answers, meeting my eyes. “I’ve seen what you can do.”
“You knew this before,” I tell her. “There were times I had to get rough with people. It didn’t bother you.”
It should have. The fact that it didn’t makes everything tighten. And fueled my arousal for her.
“Must be part of my heart scars,” she murmurs.
A faint smile pulls at my mouth before I can stop it. “I like that.”
The moment lingers, fragile, until darkness pushes through it.
“But when I watched you both dragged into that car…” I say, getting choked up again.
Her breath catches. “I wasn’t letting them take her.”
“I was devastated,” I continue, the memory crashing into me. Stripping me of my strength.
I kiss her again, not thinking about it this time, not stopping myself. She responds immediately, her hand fisting in my shirt as if she’s anchoring herself to something real.
A soft laugh drifts from the bed behind us, breaking the moment cleanly.
“My daddy and mommy are kissing,” Violet coos. “They kiss a lot.”
We both pull back, the tension shifting, softening just enough to breathe.
I take Sandrine’s hand without thinking, my fingers threading through hers as I glance toward Violet, who is watching us with sleepy curiosity and a lollipop hanging from her mouth.
And for the first time, I feel like we’re both her parents, doing this together.