Page 77 of The Pakhan’s Hidden Heir

“Yes, baby, go with Demid. Watch Masha,” I tell him as my gut churns. Then Bastian takes me by the elbow and drags me from the room, on Demid’s heels.

Whatever he’s got to say, he can say it fast. I don’t want to be away from my son for any reason. Especially knowing that Akim has it out for us. He’s going to regret taking me from my new life. I’ll make sure of it.

As long as I can remind myself why I ran to begin with, which has faded in light of seeing him again. God I missed him.

31

BASTIAN

I guide Raina down the hall to my room where we will have privacy to talk, keeping my hand on her elbow. She pulls at me every few steps, but I never let her pull free.

This insolent behavior isn’t like her. She’s spent too much time on her own and she needs to be reminded of my expectations.

“You need to not touch me,” she hisses. When I let her go, she walks toward the foot of my bed, looking hurt, not angry.

How many nights did I dream of this day, when she’d walk back into my life again and I’d get my second chance?

But now that she’s here, five years of pent-up anger is crushing me.

“You’re not leaving here,” I tell her. “You are not taking my son and walking out on me again. I won’t have it.”

“Bastian—”

“I’m not negotiating.” I stomp around the corner of the bed and she gives me space, drifting toward the window, keeping herself out of my reach. “You’ve had five years of running around playing whatever game you’re playing, and it’s done.”

Her eyes narrow and she shakes her head, scowling. “You can’t just keep a person.”

“I can and I will.” I’m done messing around. The instant that plane landed in Moscow I started making arrangements. I’m not going to piddle around and play the fool any longer. “Father Yakov is downstairs in the dining room drinking my tea.”

She backs up a step and I watch the color drain from her face. “Please, Bastian. if you care about me and Felix at all, please don’t do this.”

I grab her elbow again, pulling her toward me. “You don’t get to question my judgment ever again. That is my son, and you will do as I say. Do you understand?”

Her bottom lip trembles, and she doesn’t respond at all. In fact, it’s as if she withdraws into herself. My chest is tight, the words I know I should say lodged in my Adam’s apple like the original sin.

I have a ring, and despite everything she put me through, I still love this woman. I just can’t make myself say it.

“I was going to get you a dress, but since you’re being stubborn, you can get married in that.” I gesture at her torn sweater and stained jeans, grimacing at the idea that this is how she’ll remember our wedding day when it’s years from now and this moment is behind us.

She’ll hate me, but I have no choice. She is not leaving me again, and my son is too important to me to leave this up in the air.

“I won’t sign a thing,” she protests as I lead her to the door and out into the hall.

“Then I’ll sign it for you. I know your signature, remember? You signed a contract with me once upon a time.”

The words I expect to hear never come—that she hates me, that she’ll run away again, that she never wants to speak to me again.

In their place are muffled cries and a hanging head. I’m not sure how to take it. She should be violently angry with me, lashing out, fighting back. But Raina is despondent almost.

I waited too long last time, didn’t go to her when I wanted to because Akim walked me to bed drunk as a sailor on shore leave.

I missed my chance back then, and I won’t miss it this time. She belongs to me, and I’m making sure the whole world knows that now.

In my dining room, the priest rises to his feet, bowing from the shoulders as I force Raina into the room.

Ingrid, who was ill the past few days, stands in the corner to bear witness, alongside Akim, who has the same dirty glare on his face as normal.

“We’re ready,” I tell the priest, knowing full well the only thing he legally needs is her signature on that marriage contract on the table in front of his glass of tea. But he smiles warmly and bows again, this time from the waist.