Chapter 36 Under My Protection #2
She gave me a flat look. “I live with a mafia boss and raging hormones. Visiting my mom is the least dramatic part of my week.”
I held up my hands in mock surrender. “Just checking.”
She leaned over and kissed my cheek. “I’m fine. But thanks for worrying, daddy.”
Nothing had changed in this hellhole. Same cold walls, same scent of rot dressed up as sterilization. I didn’t plan on scaring anyone today, but the moment we stepped in, I saw her—the receptionist—and watched the color drain from her face. She remembered who I was. Oh well. Can’t say I didn’t try.
“Irina Sokolova,” I said flatly. “Now.”
She hesitated, clearly torn between following protocol and acknowledging the silent demand in my stance.
Her fingers hovered over some paperwork, as if clinging to procedure might delay the inevitable.
I remained completely still, unblinking, letting the weight of my presence do the talking.
After a moment that stretched too long, she gave a reluctant nod and motioned for us to follow.
The common area hummed with a muffled hush, like a place suspended between worlds.
Sunlight filtered weakly through tall windows streaked with grime, casting pale beams across chipped linoleum floors and faded armchairs clustered in corners.
A muted television flickered silently above, ignored.
A few patients sat slumped in their seats or paced in slow, uncertain circles. It was too quiet. Then I saw her.
She was sitting at a table, a piece of paper in front of her. A pencil in her hand. Drawing.
Kira stopped breathing.
She took one step forward, then another—then stopped short, like she was afraid of shattering the moment. Afraid it was a hallucination.
Her mother lifted her head.
“Kira?”
The sound cracked something open.
“My girl,” Irina said, her voice thin but clear. “Oh my God… I missed you so much.”
Kira broke. She rushed forward, then slowed, uncertain—until her mother opened her arms. They collided, clinging to each other, both crying. Kira laughed through it, sobbing.
“Mom,” she kept saying. “You’re talking. You know who I am.”
Irina stroked her hair. “Of course I do.”
I stepped closer, staying just behind Kira.
“Mom,” she said after a moment, pulling back just enough. “This is Maksym.”
Irina looked me over. “I remember him.”
Kira gripped my hand tightly. “We’re together now.”
Her mother’s eyebrows lifted. “Did your father approve of that?”
She hesitated, her lips parting just slightly before she gave a slow nod. Her voice came out soft but steady. “Yes,” she said. “He did.”
I could read Kira’s thoughts as clearly as if she’d spoken them—this wasn’t the moment to tell her Roman was rotting six feet under. She looked lighter, like she was crawling her way back to the surface. One wrong word could drag her under again.
Irina studied her, then looked at me. “Is he treating you well?”
Kira turned to me, and something lit behind her eyes. “He’s the sweetest.”
I barked a laugh. “God, don’t say that in public.”
Irina laughed. Actually laughed.
Kira sat down beside her and took her hands gently. “You look so much better. The last time I saw you, I could barely recognize you.”
“They’ve given me new medication,” Irina said. “It helps. And therapy. Every day. I think I’m healing now. Back at the house... it was the men. Your father’s enemies. I always thought they’d come for me. I never felt safe.”
She gave a hollow laugh, eyes dropping to the table. “And the orgies—God, the things I saw. They kept me sicker than the drugs ever did.”
Kira’s face darkened with rage.
Behind them, I stood still, jaw clenched. If I could’ve killed that monster again, I would’ve. Twice.
She lifted her mother’s hands, kissed them lightly, and smiled through a tremble.
“You seem stronger. More like yourself. It gives me hope, Mom.” She glanced at me for a breath, then back to Irina.
“Maybe you’ll be able to leave here soon.
And if you do, maybe you could stay close. Because… we might need you soon.”
Irina blinked. “What do you mean?”
Kira’s fingers tightened slightly around her mother’s. Her eyes darted to me again, then settled back on Irina’s face. “You’re going to be a grandmother.”
For a second, the room stood still. Then Irina’s lips parted. “Oh my God.” Her voice broke as tears welled in her eyes. “You’re… pregnant?”
Kira nodded, smiling through tears of her own.
Irina’s arms reached for her, and they embraced tightly. After a beat, Irina stood and pulled me into the hug too. I froze—surprised, unsure—then returned it with the barest pressure. Her frame was frail, but the gesture felt real.
I barely dared to breathe, afraid I might break the spell.
Could this be it? A life beyond blood and ruin?
Kira, my fierce girl. Our kid. Her mother in the picture, not just surviving, but healing.
If this was what peace looked like, I’d carve it out with my own hands. I’d defend it to my last breath.
Irina pulled back, wiping her eyes. “Of course I want to support you both. I would love that more than anything. I just… I hope I can. I feel normal. The medicine helps. But still…”
“You’re doing better than you think, Mom,” Kira said, her voice gentle and certain. “I see it. I feel it. I believe in you.”
Irina’s lips trembled into a smile. “I’m trying, baby. I really am.”
Kira leaned in, squeezing her hands. “We’ll bring you home soon. Just stay strong a little longer.”
We said our goodbyes slowly, Kira lingering in her mother’s arms as if afraid to let go. She whispered that she’d be back soon, as often as she could. We’d bring Irina home, no question—but until then, if Kira wanted to visit every day, I’d make damn sure she could.
Kira’s hand slipped into mine as we walked back toward reception, her steps a little lighter than when we’d come in. But before we reached the doors, I nodded toward the cushioned bench in the waiting area.
“Sit here a minute,” I told her. “There’s one last thing I need to do.”
She gave me a look. “What?”
“Just wait,” I said, brushing a hand along her jaw. “Two minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”
She sighed and sank onto the bench, eyeing me like she half-expected me to come back covered in blood.
Maybe she wasn’t entirely wrong.
I strode straight to the administrator’s office and pushed the door open. He was at his desk, sipping coffee, and nearly choked on it when he saw me.
He looked up and visibly paled, throat bobbing in a dry swallow, his fingers twitching around the mug as if debating whether to throw it or drop it.
I shut the door behind me with a soft click, then leaned my shoulder casually against it.
“Relax,” I said, flashing him a grin that wasn’t friendly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
He swallowed hard, his hands gripping the arms of his chair like I’d pull out a machete.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” I went on, strolling across the room like I owned it. “I just came to say... good job.”
His brow furrowed. “I… I’m sorry?”
I dropped into the chair across from him, boots stretched out like I had all the time in the world. “You’ve been a good boy. Irina’s improving. Eating. Speaking. Drawing. Healing. That’s what we wanted, isn’t it?”
He gave a rapid series of nervous nods, lips twitching like he didn’t know if he was about to be praised or dismembered.
“So here’s the thing,” I said, resting an elbow on his desk and leaning in just enough for him to smell the leather and smoke clinging to my coat. “I’ll be taking her out of here soon. Let’s say… one month.”
He blinked. “O—Of course. Absolutely.”
“Perfect,” I murmured, tapping the desk once. “Now don’t fuck it up. Keep her well-fed. Medicated. Seen. Heard. Cared for. Because when I walk through that door again, I want to see a woman, not a shadow of one.”
He nodded so fast it looked like his neck might snap. I almost pitied the guy.
“You think you can be a good boy for one more month?” I asked, voice laced with sarcasm.
“Yes. Yes, absolutely,” he croaked.
I stood, smoothing out my coat. “Keep this up and I might actually stop fantasizing about gutting you.”
I moved to the door, then paused with my hand on the knob and looked back at him.
“Oh, and a friendly reminder,” I tilted my head, smile gone. “Let her decline, and I swear, I won’t need weapons. Just imagination. I’ll make your worst fear beg for mercy.”
He didn’t respond. I think he’d stopped breathing.
“See you in a month,” I said cheerfully, and left.
We walked back to the car in silence, the cool air brushing over us like a reset.
Kira was still glowing, her smile dazed, dreamy.
I opened the passenger door, and she slid in carefully, like she was afraid the moment might vanish if she moved too quickly.
I circled around, got in on my side, buckled up, and started the engine.
She sat there, seatbelt already fastened, both hands covering her mouth. Her eyes were wide, shimmering. “Did you see her?” she whispered, voice trembling. “This is unreal.”
I glanced at her, then back to the road as we pulled out. “I saw.”
“I’ve never seen her like that,” she said, her voice rising in wonder. “Not once. Maybe flickers, when I was a kid—but that was so long ago, it feels like a dream. This... this is a miracle.”
I caught her bouncing a little in her seat, legs moving with giddy energy. She turned to me, radiant. “Maksym, what did you do?”
“I told you I’d take care of you,” I murmured, fingers brushing her leg. “This includes her. We’ll get her out, Kira.”
Then I glanced at her sideways, clearing my throat. “Might be time to start thinking about a bigger place.”
She blinked. “A bigger place?”
“Yeah,” I said. “A proper house. One with enough space for us to be alone when we want to be... but with a room for her. You shouldn’t be alone too much while you’re pregnant. I’ll be around as much as I can, but sometimes, I’ve got shit to handle.”