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A true smile stretches across his face now, and he winces as it reopens the split on his lip. But he doesn’t stop grinning. “It’s great. I’ve been sent home for the night.”
That makes me laugh, and I step close to gently wrap my arms around his waist. “I want to come with you.”
Mishka hums with approval and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I want that too.”
The entry is vacant of prisoners and most of my father’s men by the time we enter it again. Two seem to be cleaning the last of the blood from the marble floor, and as we pass, they look up to give Mishka a cautious nod. He returns the gesture without a word, then we head outside and flag a cab.
The ride back to his flat is short and sweet, the comfort of his arms lulling me into a calm contentment. I never dreamed things could work out this way, and knowing that Mishka and I are going to get married—that we’re starting a family of our own—leaves me brimming with happiness.
I wish I could have spoken to Viktor before we left. But I imagine he’s busy in the basement of our family home, wringing information from the four prisoners who belong to Mishka’s old Bratva. My stomach turns to think of the violence that must be taking place down there. I should be grateful to know that my father and brother are ensuring my safety—that those men will never harm me again.
And still, I can’t get the sour taste from my mouth, knowing the kind of world they’re immersed in. The kind of world Mishka is getting pulled further and further into because he wants to be with me. I might hate my scarred kidnapper for what he did to me, but I can’t stop thinking about what he represents. The anger this world of violence creates.
Mishka’s anger toward my father over the death of his brother. His surviving clan members’ anger over the destruction of their brotherhood. My father’s and brother’s anger toward the surviving members because of their violent acts. Even my anger toward my abductors for wanting to hurt me and my unborn child.
It’s never going to end.
And that makes me sad.
Mishka doesn’t release me until we’re safely inside his apartment. Then I watch as he not only deadbolts the front door but collects several pots and pans from his kitchen along with wire and starts to rig some kind of contraption around the handle of the door.
“What are you doing?” I ask, baffled by his behavior.
“It’s an alarm my brother and I used to set when we were holed up in the worst parts of town. We had a few apartments where the doors didn’t even lock. This gave us a heads up in case we had an intruder—chased a few off along the way too.” He flashes me a smile.
I’m stunned by the thought that he had to survive like that. It makes my heart ache to picture him and his brother living on the streets, of being scared that someone might rob or attack them in their sleep.
“Wait, are you expecting an intruder?” I ask, my stomach fluttering nervously as the realization hits me.
“After tonight, I highly doubt it. But I’m not taking any chances with you,” he assures me, tightening the last piece of wire. “Besides, this will delay your brother if he decides to come back,” he jokes, coming to stand before me.
I laugh, the memory quickly turning comical now that I know it has a happy ending.
Mishka’s eyes are soft as he cradles my face tenderly.
“We should clean you up,” I murmur, studying his bruised face and the cut above his eyebrow. “Sit,” I command, indicating one of his kitchen chairs with my chin.
As he obeys, I head into the bathroom for his first-aid kit.
“My brother did all this?” I ask, dabbing antiseptic across the cut above his eye.
“Well, it was a group effort. Honestly, though, I think they took it easy on me, considering they found out I was a traitor.” Mishka’s hands rest lightly on the backs of my thighs, and he runs them absentmindedly up and down their length, making my spine tingle.
“You really used to be a part of those men’s clan?” I murmur, turning my attention to his lip.
Mishka shrugs. “From what they said. I didn’t recognize any of them. But that blond bastard sure knew enough about my brother and the Nezhit to make me think so.”
I nod, falling silent as I consider that. I can’t imagine Mishka being a part of a brotherhood like that. Then again, I’m starting to realize just how little I understand about the world he and my family are a part of. But the more I learn, the less I want to know that world.
“What did my father want to talk to you about?” I ask to take my mind off the dark subject.
“Just that his men will be watching me. He warned me that if I put another toe out of line or hurt you in any way, he won’t hesitate to kill me.”
I cringe and set aside my first-aid tools. “Sorry,” I say, resting my hands on Mishka’s shoulders.
“Don’t be,” he murmurs, his arms wrapping around my hips to pull me against his chest. “You saved my life tonight, Alina. No one besides my brother has ever risked anything for me like that before. So, thank you.”
His impossibly blue eyes peer up at me, the love and devotion in them stealing my breath away. Combing my fingers into his dark locks, I smile down at him, my heart swelling.
