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It’s been years since I heard my father sound so strong. I’m not even sure if “strong” is the right word. Just morecertainthan he has been since we lost the rest of our family.
Whatever you’d call it, it seems to act as a signal to the rest of my men.
“Of course, your family can count on my protection, too,” Mikael chimes in.
Arkady raises his glass a little higher. “And mine.”
“And mine,” Nikolai adds.
I give them all an appreciative nod. “I appreciate you all.Spasibo.”
Kirill stands up and meets my gaze over the heads of the sitting men. “Guess it’s time to celebrate then. Let’s bust out the cigars.”
Once there’s a comfortable smoke haze floating over us, Fyodor turns to me. “You have made me proud today.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Claiming a woman has made you proud?”
He shakes his head. “Taking on the responsibility of a family is what has made me proud. You are never so focused as when you have something to protect. Trust me, son: there is no greater reward, no greater blessing than creating a family.”
“In Ruslan’s case, his family has come ready-made,” Vadim butts in with a smile, helping himself to his second cigar. “Tell me, nephew: will you name the bastard boy your heir or do you actually plan on making one yourself?”
His tone rankles. It’s poisonous, the way he talks about them.Bastard boy.I don’t like that one fucking bit. Nor do I like the subtle irritation dancing beneath his words, the suggestion that his birthright is being snatched away from him once again.
But I can understand it, even if I despise it. I’ll forgive his resentment—well, not forgive, but I’ll turn a blind eye to it. It doesn’t matter in the end. Vadim might not like my choices, but he will not oppose hispahkan. He wouldn’t dare.
Family is everything. It is the one absolute rule that he has always followed no matter the circumstances.
“That is premature as well, Uncle Vadim,” I say icily.
“There’s no rush,” Fyodor agrees. “After all, Emma and Ruslan have time to make plenty of babies.”
Like the thought of Emma in a gown, images of her and me with a few children of our own pops into my head far too quickly. It makes me feel… infinite. Damn near invincible. This is the first time I’ve understood what Fyodor and Vadim meant when they used to talk about legacy.
Emma as my wife. The children we already have gathered around us. More of them yet to come bundle up in her arms, in mine.
The feeling that stirs up… I don’t know how to name it or what to do with it.
But God knows it’s doing something to me.
Perhaps that’s why I decide to drop the bomb on them now. “The first one is already on the way.”
Vadim’s head snaps towards me. Fyodor’s mouth pops open. “The woman is pregnant?” my uncle asks, stunned.
I nod, but I’m focused more on my father. I thought he was already as upbeat as I’ve seen him in years. This, though… I’veneverseen him look like this. It’s unsettling, mostly because it reminds me of a time when he smiled often. Those smiles were usually reserved for my mother.
“An heir…” Vadim breathes. He still looks shell-shocked. “Are you sure?”
“She’s just completed her first trimester.”
“This is… This is… My God.”
“Have I turned you speechless, uncle? I didn’t think it was possible.”
He clears his throat, grabs his glass, and stands up. “A toast,” he says gruffly. “To the future heir of the Oryolov Bratva.”
Everyone cheers to my unborn child. There’s this strange, burgeoning feeling in my chest that I can’t quite name. Satisfaction? Joy? Pride?
When Vadim settles back into his seat, I address the whole table. “For now, I want Emma’s pregnancy kept under wraps. It’s a dangerous time for the Oryolov Bratva and I need to make sure she and the children are removed from it all.”
