AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Oh, shit. It does make sense.
“He did,” Olga confirms with a nod. “He hoped that Sasha would lose herself as soon as she found out the truth—and I have to say, you fulfilled his expectations.”
She looks at me with a small, amused smile, and I feel sick at the thought of being Yuriy’s doll. Am I so easy to manipulate? Goddamnit!
“Even more so,” Olga continues in the meantime, “Louis, one of the Messinas, joined you, and you both wreaked so much havoc that no one would doubt Yuriy’s decision to get back at the Italians. And, well, the rest is history.”
She gestures at the spot on the carpet where Yuriy’s body lay just a few minutes ago and scrunches her nose. I guess the bloodstain doesn’t fit the interior of the office.
“So what now?” Louis shakes his head after processing their story for a few seconds and turns to Riccardo. “Are we friends with the Russians? And the Mexicans? What does it all mean?”
“Looks like wearefriends with the Russians.” Riccardo chuckles and looks from Elena to Olga. “But about the Mexicans…we’ll see.”
“We’ll see,” Olga confirms, and I catch a cold note in her voice. “They have to abide by our rules. Otherwise, we’ll have to join forces and get rid of them once and for all.”
That sounds better. The whole idea of having an alliance with the Mexicans rubs me the wrong way. Although, a few years ago I couldn’t imagine having an alliance with the Messinas, being Louis’s wife, and...well, enjoying it, so who knows what's waiting for us in the future.
I put my head on Louis’s shoulder, stroke Misha’s back, and close my eyes. For now, I’m pretty content with what my life has given me.
Soon after, Olga hints that she has plenty of things to take care of as the new head of the Russian Bratva, and despite the exhaustion weighing me down, I pull Misha up and follow Louis out of the mansion. They’re talking about something with Riccardo and Elena, but I don’t listen. It’s their family’s business, although I guess it’s time for me to call myself a Messina. It feels weird, but I think I can live with it.
“Well, hope to see you soon.” Riccardo raises his hand in a farewell, and Elena gives me a tentative smile.
“You’re welcome to visit us. Max would be happy to have someone to play with. You know, I haven’t been in shape lately.” She pointedly looks at her belly, and I chuckle and nod, squeezing Misha’s shoulder.
“Sure. That would be nice.”
Are we gonna be one of these sickeningly sweet families that visit each other every weekend? Well, to be honest, after spending a month in Louis’s house with no friends, it doesn’t sound that bad.
Finally, Louis takes the driver’s seat, Misha and I settle in the back, and we drive away from the Pushkov mansion—hopefully, to never see it again. I watch familiar streets and buildings pass behind the car window, bathing in the sunlight peeking through the clouds, and at last my heart feels at peace.
I catch it right away when Louis suddenly changes course and, instead of taking the shortest road home, drives off the highway and to the rest area. But Misha has already dozed off on my shoulder, so I decide not to wake him up and wait to see what Louis wants to do. I have to trust him more if I want this relationship to work, right?
But all Louis does is drive to the gas station to refill the tank before making a turn toward the closest pizza place. Oh. I blink. I completely forgot about his promise to Misha this morning. My heart warms up at the realization, and I close my eyes and hide a smile in Misha’s hair.
Louis keeps his voice low as he places his order at the drive-through, and it sounds like he thinks we’re both asleep. To be fair, the afternoon sun does make me drowsy, and my sore muscles and bruised lip remind me that I spent two days in a row fighting for my life. I probably doze off while Louis picks up the order because the next time I open my eyes, we’re already pulling into our driveway.
When the car slows down, Misha fidgets as well and rubs his eyes, looking around. “Are we already at home?”
“Almost.” Louis chuckles and looks at us over his shoulder. “All that’s left is to get to the door. Do you think you can handle that?”
Misha whines out loud, stretching his arms over his head in a pure expression of laziness, and I huff and jokingly nudge him with my elbow. At the same time, Louis turns around in his seat to look at us properly and quirks his eyebrow with a challenge.
“Alright, what about—whoever gets to the door first chooses the first piece of pizza.”
Misha’s eyes immediately light up, and he almost bounces on his seat. “Pizza?”
“Yep.”
Louis nods and demonstratively reaches for his door handle. Of course, it spurs Misha to get out of his seat, almost kicking me with his feet in a hurry, and the two of them take off toward the house with loud giggles. God, why does it feel like I have two babies now, and why does it make me so fond?
“I don’t know which one of you won,” I announce loudly as I enter the house with the boxes of pizza that Louis, of course, has left behind. “But Mom had to carry all this on her own, so she gets to choose the first piece. Got it?”
Misha jokingly whines but doesn’t complain further, jumping off his place on the couch and running to the kitchen. I guess the car nap was enough to restore his energy, but it’s good. I’m glad to see that the morning’s events didn’t have a lasting effect on his mood—and I have to thank Louis for that. The two of them joke around in the kitchen while choosing what box to open first, and my heart grows warm when I realize how easy it is for Misha to be a child with Louis.
Maybe in the past Louis rejected Misha out of fear and inexperience, but I can see that he has grown to be a father.
“Mom, are you coming? I’m hungry!” Misha pulls me out of my thoughts, impatiently drumming his hands against the table, and I shake my head with a chuckle and walk over to join them in the kitchen.
