Vadim
The meeting was just wrapping up when Tau called. I had to drag my attention away from the transportation changes and the intel on potential bomb threats. Topped with her blatant rejection the previous night, I wasn’t in the best of moods.
“What is it?” I asked, already moving toward the window to put some distance between myself and the rest of the room.
A beat of silence before he answered.
“She threw me out of the room and demanded privacy,” Tau said.
“And you let her?”
“If she weren’t pregnant I wouldn’t have moved,” he said. “It’s a delicate time for women.”
I stared out of the window for a moment.
Tau. Offering an opinion on the delicacy of pregnant women. Filed and noted.
“How long was she there?”
“Around an hour in total. Some tests.”
I glanced at the clock.
“Why are you only calling now?”
“She stopped at the supermarket on the way back. Ate an entire tub of yoghurt in the car.” A pause. “Radovan says she spent most of the journey home swearing at the general concept of men.”
I rubbed my jaw.
A few days away from her might be best for both of us.
I still had her teethmarks in my chest.
“Bomb threats have been added to the list. No one but the Bratva goes in or out of the house,” I said, and waited for his confirmation before hanging up.
If I wasn’t careful there would be no legacy left to protect.
I turned to face the room. Konstantin. Ruslan. Valentin. The contingency plan, whether they knew it or not. The three men who would ensure the Bratva didn’t wither and die the moment someone got close enough to make it count.
I waved the others out.
What remained needed to be said privately.
The Bratva was not a man. It was not me, or my father before me, or the name above the door.
It was infrastructure—routes, assets, loyalty, the distinct understanding that the organisation would outlast any individual within it.
Our enemies were counting on the opposite.
They were counting on the head falling and the body following.
More would spring forth.
That was what they needed to understand.
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I calmly shook open my napkin before I spoke.
“I don’t care if she has eaten. Tell her to come downstairs,” I told Spartak.
He hovered for a millisecond before he vanished.
I cut into my steak, dipping the meat into the sauce before eating the forkful slowly. The dining room held its usual quiet—one place setting, the good crystal, the cold stillness of a room that had been arranged for one and would stay that way.
Iskra pushed the door open and stood in the doorway, glaring at me before her eyes dropped to my food.
Her hair fell in waves down her back. The severity of the black pyjamas made it stand out—and then the pink flamingos undermined the severity entirely, in a way that was entirely her without her knowing it.
A glance at the doorway confirmed it. Every byki in the vicinity, plus Tau, arranged in the corridor like an uninvited audience.
“Close the door,” I snapped.
The last thing I wanted was for them to witness her insolence.
Her smug smile toward them was noted as she pulled her chair back and sat opposite me.
Her eyes moved over my plate again and I nodded toward hers.
She lifted the cover with a sigh before taking her fork.
It wasn’t the meat she stabbed at but the buttery baked potato—the specific yellow-fleshed variety, sweet against the peppery steak.
Her eyes flashed up as she swallowed and lifted her knife.
“You called,” she said flatly, cutting into her steak.
It wasn’t cooked as rare as mine, but it was a good source of iron and protein nonetheless.
“How was your appointment?”
“Fine,” she said, not looking up.
I paused to take a sip of wine.
“Do you want to try again?”
“Would you like a blow by blow account?” she asked pleasantly.
“An overview would suffice,” I gritted out.
“Everything is fine and they will get back to me with the tests,” she said, reaching for her wine.
“Just remember the foetus clause,” I said, placing my glass on the table with more force than I intended.
She set her cutlery on her plate with deliberate precision and unfolded her napkin to dab her lips.
“I understand the terms.” She stood, her voice steady and cool as a closing argument. “Since conception has taken place I suggest you remain in your own bedroom from now on.”
She tossed the napkin onto her plate and walked.
She was halfway to the door when I managed to gather my wits.
“There are plenty of women available to me,” I said, my voice harder than I intended.
“Good for you.” She yanked the door open without turning. “I never expected anything else from you, Pakhan.”
She left the door open.
This time only Bogdan and Tau remained outside.
Tau didn’t look me in the eye. He stepped forward and quietly closed the door.
I scowled at her unfinished plate. Additional nutrients that could have nourished my child, left on the table because she wanted to make a point.
I could bring her down a peg or two. Easily. All in good time.
I worked my way through the rest of my dinner with a slow deliberateness I didn’t entirely feel, refilling my wine glass once, the dining room holding its silence around me.
The thoughts in my mind grew louder with every bite.
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Another two weeks and her stomach was still flat.
I stood at the window with my black tea, watching her through the glass.
The garden had come further into itself since the last time I’d paid attention—the bare branches filling out, the flowerbeds beginning to show colour at the edges, the lawn greening up properly after the last of the frost. Chernograd in spring had a distinct quality to it, reluctant and then sudden, as though the city had been holding its breath and finally let go.
Iskra was laughing at something Spartak had said. Her blonde hair caught the afternoon light. She looked—easy. Unguarded in a way she never was inside the house. The blonde-haired byki was stepping over the line.
Tau would be watching from somewhere. I shouldn’t feel what I was feeling.
But I’d had a taste of her and I knew how good she was. My first bareback ride. I groaned and took another sip of tea.
The door opened behind me.
“Is everything all right, Pakhan?” Bogdan asked.
“Don’t ever get married,” I told him, keeping my eyes on Iskra.
A pause.
“You don’t need to tell me that, Pakhan,” he muttered, and the door closed again.
Tau appeared from the far side of the garden and fell into step behind them. Before he disappeared from view he glanced back over his shoulder and looked directly at me for a moment—unhurried, unreadable—then was gone.
In a few weeks the scan would show the baby’s vitals. I would be there for it. I circled the rim of my crystal glass and stared at the empty garden.
Then I would make her pay.