Page 163 of The Bratva King

I let her help me to my feet. We go to the kitchen, where Irina is making cookies. It’s almost midnight.

“I bake when I’m worried,” she says. “Luke’s favorite.”

My eyes burn all over again. This household has adopted my son. Guilt twists through the relief, but I’m so glad I’m not doing this alone.

I manage to eat one cookie. Nikolai’s voice carries down the hall, sharp with fury. I think that’s new for everyone. He doesn’t express his anger much. Doesn’t loudly express any emotion. But now, he’s raging. Tonight, I need every ounce of that rage aimed at the man who took my son.

“It’s probably best to give him space to handle this,” I tell Lila. “Come with me.”

We leave the kitchen and head to Luke’s playroom. I open the door and stand there, taking it all in. Lila slips in and looks around. “Wow, this is incredible.”

I nod. “It is. Luke is very lucky.”

He barely got a chance to enjoy the room Nikolai created just for him. I pick up one of the squish balls and squeeze it.

The thought hits me so hard that I stumble backward. “Oh no,” I whisper.

“What is it?” Lila asks. “What’s wrong?”

Matteo will look at his son and see everything that is wrong with him.

My breathing turns shallow and fast. I think I’m going to faint. I can feel it happening in slow motion.

“Nikolai!” Lila shouts. It sounds like she’s underwater.

I’m lowered onto something soft, but my mind is flooded with everything that could go wrong.

Luke doesn’t make eye contact on command.

He doesn’t shake hands, answer when spoken to, or respond to his name the first or even the second time.

He needs his routine, and the right amount of ketchup and mayo with his chicken nuggets. He won’t eat if the food is wrong.

Matteo won’t see a scared child. He’ll see a defective heir.

He’ll see it as disobedience. A personal insult. I know first-hand how he deals with disobedience.

Nikolai is there when my eyes focus. He’s cradling me in his arms.

“Matteo is like your father.” My throat feels like it’s closing, and I can’t get the words out. “Luke will never be the heir he wants.”

I see understanding spark in his eyes.

Nikolai spent his childhood being told he was broken. He felt his father’s wrath for not being like his brothers. Nikolai survived it, but at what cost? I can’t let my child go through that. I cannot allow my son to feel like his differences make him unlovable. Unwanted.

I see a man who was built for love but has spent his entire life believing he didn’t deserve it because one man decided that different meant lesser.

I will not let that happen to my son.

Nikolai’s hand is on my face, and his eyes are flashing with anger and pain. “Luke will never feel unwanted or unloved. And when he comes home, no one will ever make him believe there is something wrong with him.”

I want to believe him.

I do believe him.

For the first time in five years, I stop trying to save Luke alone.

I put my son’s life in Nikolai’s hands.