Epilogue
Vadim
When the door flew open and crashed against the wall, half the men had their hands on their guns and the other half knew I’d fucked up. Iskra glared at me and I smiled, giving her a little finger wave.
A nervous-looking Olya brought through the tray with light snacks and a pot of tea. Bogdan inched into the room and stood behind Iskra.
Me?
I couldn’t take my eyes off my wife.
This was the reckoning.
She walked toward me, her hair flowing around her. It looked almost white against the dark green dress.
She slapped something on the table and stormed back out.
The men sat back down, eyeing one another, wondering what had happened now. Bogdan remained by the door, hand resting on his gun.
My brother peered over at my desk, eyes widening.
Olya finished emptying the tray and left.
“For the love of everything holy, get off that woman,” my brother muttered.
“Pour the tea,” I said, waving my hand before glancing down at the white plastic stick on my desk.
“Start coming back to the pit,” Konstantin said. “Or take up a sport.”
I stared at the two lines and leaned back in my chair.
“What was that about?” Valentin asked.
“For someone so small she is scary,” Ruslan said, still staring at the door as though she might return for him.
“When mine gets like that a light to medium spanking does the trick,” Aleksandr offered.
Konstantin sighed.
“He got her pregnant again.”
Everyone turned to face me like I was the villain.
“Who has four kids in six years?” Valentin said, shaking his head.
“Five now,” Ruslan said.
Aleksandr said nothing but reached for the teapot.
“Wait!” Bogdan said.
Everyone turned. He was still by the door.
“Does anyone know who made that tea?” he whispered.
Heads turned back to the teapot Aleksandr had already touched.
“I bet Mikhail and Grigori knew—that’s why they didn’t come to the meeting,” Aleksandr muttered. “The brother probably tipped them off.”
Over the years Iskra had created some potent compounds that we had put to use. She had never turned them on us. I tapped the pregnancy test against my palm, wondering if she had finally snapped.
“It’s fine. She wouldn’t poison us,” I said confidently.
Konstantin stood and poured a cup. I smiled and turned to the papers Ruslan had brought for the meeting.
My brother placed the tea on my desk.
“After you,” he said, and sat back down.
“Just get the vodka,” I told him, glancing at the open bottle in the cabinet. “Bogdan—get a fresh bottle from the basement.”
He nodded and left.
“You need help, brat.”
“He needs a vasectomy.” Someone muttered.
“Who said that?” I demanded.
No one said a word.
No one touched the tea.
Not one fucker congratulated me.
As for my wife?
What did she expect? It’s called a breeding bench for a reason.
It’s literally in the name.
??
??
??
I changed my mind and turned west to check on the girls.
Runa was practising her ballet moves while Anna tried to copy her big sister.
Runa was lean and flexible, but at three years old my Anna was solid.
Anna might have her mother’s light hair but she was a fighter—we constantly had to break up her and Nikolai.
With Runa though? She idolised her older sister.
The nanny stood with her back to me, clapping for them between folding their clothes.
I sighed.
I missed them being in our room.
Nikolai had his own room, but we still had Alexei’s cot in ours.
How could I tell her it was breaking my heart that they were all growing up? Runa had just turned six and acted like a nine year old. I didn’t know what a nine year old actually acted like—but it was far too grown up.
Five sounded right.
I reached our bedroom door and turned the handle. The curtains were drawn. She lay on the bed with Alexei, his feet in the air, playing with them. He was supposed to be going down for his afternoon nap.
I stepped inside. She couldn’t be angry if the baby was here.
She glanced up at me—none of this morning’s fury in her eyes. I shrugged out of my jacket and toed off my shoes to join them.
“I was so angry with you,” she said.
It was on the tip of my tongue to remind her of the bench name but she kept talking.
“But then I look at him. Isn’t Alexei adorable?”
She lowered her head and began to kiss his cheeks. He giggled and grabbed her hair.
“Mama,” he said, holding onto her head.
“They’re all adorable,” I said, agreeing with her.
She pried her head away to look at me.
“I want another baby.”
I was confused, but I let her carry on to see where this was going.
“He’s already walking,” she said with a sniffle.
Not quite walking—more like dragging himself around like the town drunk.
“Then he’ll move into Nikolai’s room,” she said as the first tear trickled over. “And then I’m stuck with you.”
More tears.
I frowned, not liking where this was going.
What was wrong with being in the bedroom with me?
“I don’t know if I can stop after this one.”
Stop what?
Which one?
I scratched my head.
She drew Alexei closer and covered him with the light cotton blanket the way he liked it. When I heard him begin to feed I leaned over to wipe her tears away.
“I’m addicted to being pregnant and I think I need therapy,” she whispered.
“I will get you the best therapist in the city, my love.”
Or a hypnotist that keeps her exactly the way she is.
“What if it doesn’t work?”
“I’m at your service.”
She frowned but lay her head on the pillow.
A few moments later her eyes closed.
The first trimester was always tough.