34. Viktor
VIKTOR
It couldn’t be. A little boy toddled into the room, his arms wide open and a broad smile on his upturned face. Dark eyes peered up at us. “Mama!” He scrambled closer, making grabby hands and cackling.
Misha stiffened beside me, a low, almost inaudible keening sound rolling from his parted lips.
“Mama?” The boy slowed his forward approach, a questioning look appearing when he had to tip his head back to look up at us.
Peyton bent and scooped him into her arms, where the boy nestled in with a contented sigh. He grabbed a handful of Peyton’s long hair and twirled it around his fist, the other curled beneath his chin. He muttered something to Peyton, and she patted his back.
Reality clicked in an instant.
Peyton paled and stiffened, her face smoothing and eyes going wide.
The contrast of her reaction cemented the truth.
Peyton did not just run away from us. She did not just abandon us. She took our child with her.
I did my best to keep a tight hold on my anger, but the force of it set my lungs on fire and sent heated breaths pouring from my mouth.
“You were pregnant when you left, and you’ve been keeping him from us all this time.
” All the charm in the world could get fucked.
There was no way I could possibly charm the truth into the moment.
It deserved all the force that rocketed through me.
Leo and Misha turned stunned gazes my way. Leo opened his mouth, no doubt to turn on that very charm I’d been thinking about. He fell silent without saying a word.
“Peyton?” One of her brothers–I only recognized him because Leo had shown us pictures before we arrived–put a hand on her shoulder.
Misha almost ran me over in his attempt to get to Peyton while also throwing his body backward to keep away. I understood his body’s confusion. The simultaneous need to scream and hug Peyton at the same time battled for dominance.
“Why?” Leo gripped my arm, and I realized I was shaking.
I forced my hands to unclench and slowed my breathing.
Her family lined up behind her, and I took in the sweep of faces. Part of me wanted to hate them for helping keep her away from us. The other part loved them straight away for protecting her.
“I chose not to tell you so I could have a clean break. I needed to protect Luka.” Her head dropped until her cheek rested on Luka’s head. “If it had been just me, I might have stayed. But Luka…” Her eyes dropped, the pain in them as visceral as what tore my body apart.
“Well, if you’re going to tell them everything, at least let them come in and sit down.” Mom planted her hands on her hips. “You, there, on the right. Close the door behind you.”
I pointed my thumb at myself, and she nodded.
Peyton let out a sound that might have been a laugh but came out almost like a sob. She took a step back as we all moved forward.
Her family remained in the room, spreading out but staying close enough that I knew they’d interfere at a moment’s notice if they thought Peyton were in danger.
Misha stayed close, his eyes locked on Peyton and Luka. He hadn’t spoken since the day in Leo’s office when he showed us the picture of Peyton, the one he said had disappeared from social media. I’d been tempted to argue that it had been faked, but I didn’t have the heart for it.
We’d flown straight here after a deep hack into her family uncovered the address.
“Luka’s happiness is all that matters. His safety and his happiness.” Peyton patted Luka’s back, her body swaying from side to side.
Luka’s eyes shuttered, then flew open. He curled into a ball, the fluttering lashes showing his fight against sleep.
He’s going to look like Misha. That was my first coherent thought after the shock cleared. The dark eyes could belong to any of us, but the set of his jaw, the way he held his mouth when half-asleep, that was all Misha.
And if Misha hadn’t seen it yet, he would soon enough.
He was enamored with the boy the instant he walked into the room.
Even Leo looked at the boy with an expression I’d never seen on his face before.
The charm was gone, as were the calculation and management that made us frightful.
He blinked and the rawness in his eyes vanished. Didn’t matter. I’d seen it.
My anger surged at all the years, all the firsts, we’d missed.
Our son. I’d thought my heart couldn’t break any more, but knowing I’d missed our son’s birth and every subsequent milestone gutted me.
I turned that anger on Peyton despite knowing I bordered on irrational.
“You can’t keep him from us. Not anymore. ”
“Maybe not.”
I’d expected an immediate denial, so her almost acceptance did wonders on my temper.
Her chin lifted in that familiar way I’d never forgotten. “Everything I’ve done has been for him. I gave up everything to protect him from your world. From you.”
Those last words seemed to tear their way free, and she pressed her lips together into a flat line, refusing to take them back.
Silence stretched. We stared at each other, nothing but a couple of feet and years of deceit separating us.
I understood why she’d done it. I might even agree with it once I stopped being angry. But right this second, I was only capable of feeling the hurt.
Leo stepped back, bumping into me. “I believe that is our cue to go.”
No. I fought to find a way to say it that didn’t come off as a challenge.
Luka wiggled in Peyton’s arms, turning and twisting. “Down, Mama. I want down.”
Watching us the entire time, she bent and set Luka on his feet.
The boy giggled and threw his body forward. Straight for Misha.
Misha hit his knees so fast, the whole house shook.
Luka laughed and patted Misha’s face, squealing when the beard tickled his palms. “Tickle, tickle.” He laughed and clapped, then patted Misha’s face again. “Who are you? Your face is soft. I like it, beard man.” He grabbed two fistfuls of Misha’s beard and tugged experimentally.
Misha did not move or flinch. He stayed right there on his knees in front of everyone and let the boy pull at him and make his discoveries.
I sat in awe of the sight of the man who had broken three of Anton’s men with his bare hands remaining completely still for this child. Our child.
Peyton’s brother–the one standing closest to us–made a low sound in his throat, clearing it.
Misha ducked his head, but not before I caught the bright tears flooding his eyes.
The entire room held its breath. No doubt, they expected us to grab the kid and run.
We would never.
I took a breath and stopped my train of thought.
Peyton’s parents stood side by side, their arms around each other.
I swung my gaze around to Peyton, who had lifted one hand to cover her mouth.
Tears ran down her face, her expression torn with indecision.
I wanted to believe that she was realizing her decision to run had cost her more than she’d been willing to admit.
My anger evaporated. I could not be mad at her for protecting herself and our child. She’d done what we could not. Until now.
I almost raised my arms to offer her comfort but dropped them to my sides before the motion became obvious.
How did I hold her, comfort her, when we were the cause of her pain?
The distance between us had nothing to do with physical space. I’d spent so long being angry that hurt came out the same way. Standing in her parents' living room, I didn’t know who we were anymore.
A throat cleared again, and her brothers stared at us with heads tilted to the side. I knew where Peyton got the look now.
“We can protect you, Peyton.” Saying her name out loud sent spikes of pain through me, and I had to look at her again to remind myself that she was right there, right in front of us and not dead. “We can protect both of you. We will not let anything happen to you again.”
Her father shifted his weight. It was a small movement, barely perceptible, but obvious enough to me after years of reading emotions and intentions. He was not convinced. I had no doubt he’d believed the worst of us after how Peyton left.
I didn’t expect him to trust us, but I had to try. “I understand our word means nothing to you right now. I’m not asking you to trust us today. I’m asking for the chance to earn it.” I managed to stop long enough to breathe before I went all in.
It might be too much, too soon, but I had to get it out before we all recovered from the sight of Misha breaking down as he spoke to the tiny boy running his hands over Misha’s face.
“We should have been honest with you before. We should have told you everything from the beginning so you could face our world and the risks with your eyes wide open. If you give us a second chance, we will not make that mistake again.”