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Lying beside him, I know I belong here in his life. I don’t know why, but this bedroom makes me feel this way. It is filled with his father’s memories—gold medals on faded ribbons, photos framed in gold, and antique clocks that no longer run, but there’s no art on any wall. Still, a family history exists here that intrigues me because it’s a part of Nikolai … and a link to my Bratva past.
As Nikolai brushes his fingers through my hair, I wrap the velvet cover around my bare skin. He’s so tender now, and I won’t have to worry about his autopilot roughness again. Lying on my side, I stare at our reflections in a gilded Baroque mirror opposite the bed. His gaze is adoring and mixed with desire as he spoons closer to my body.
I watch as Nikolai kisses my ear, and he doesn’t seem aware I’m watching him. The sensation heightens all my perceptions to an awe I only feel when staring at a true masterpiece. Love has transformed sex into something euphoric, and I catch a faraway look in Nikolai’s eyes.
His gaze meets mine in the mirror, and I smile as his lips kiss the curve of my bare back. My hands slide over my stomach, but the soft bump I can feel hasn’t started to show yet. His strong hand covers mine, and we lie together, sharing our emotions as our fingers intertwine over my belly.
I close my eyes and imagine our future child in my arms while Nikolai holds me in his. The future is obliterating the past, forming a family based on love, not vengeance.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask him.
“Our baby,” he replies thoughtfully.
“Do you want a boy or a girl?”
“I want both,” he says. “But a boy would be a good thing. A boy to carry on the family name and our traditions.”
I stiffen in his arms. “Traditions?” I ask.
His hand presses firmly against mine. “A boy that will grow up to be my heir and successor.” Nikolai’s voice is strong. “I won’t make the mistakes my father made with me. I will lead my son with patience and wisdom and protect him from the pain I’ve felt. He will lose no one. I’ve learned from my father’s mistakes, but my son will learn from my example.”
I wiggle out of his grasp. “And when will our son have the time to be a kid?”
He laughs as if I’m joking. “When he’s with his mother.” He frowns at my sullen expression. “Eden, our child will be born with responsibilities that will match our own.”
“I know.” I get up from the bed and grab my clothes off the floor. “But I don’t want to think about that right now.”
Nikolai watches me in silence as I dress and says nothing when I storm out of the bedroom. I hurry down the labyrinth of hallways and back to the spiral stairs. I race up the tower, where it’s safe, away from him. I stand outside, watching the endless green stretch toward the fence in the distance, and tears come too fast for me to stop them.
Just when I thought we had reached a breakthrough, I learned that my child has become a weapon in Nikolai’s hand.
When will it end?
Will it ever end?
6
NIKOLAI
“Going out with Larissa?”I ask Eden as she scampers out of our bed and straight into the bathroom. The shower starts before she answers. Lying in our bed, I listen to the water ricochet off the tiles, giving her an excuse not to talk to me.
“Yes, baby shopping and lunch. You know how she likes to shop.”
I hoist myself out of bed and find my wallet. “Make sure you take my card. My treat. I’m sure Larissa will pick out a dress for herself.”
A quick thank you, and then the door shuts firmly. I wait a second, and the lock clicks.
Eden has been distant since we returned to the penthouse. She doesn’t spend much time in our bedroom, finding reasons to either hang out in her old bedroom or spend time with Dominika.
I searched the penthouse for twenty minutes the other day, trying not to lose my cool, when I finally found her in thekitchen. The staff that once showed her polite indifference now dote on her. She was seated beside Anton while Pavel told some over-the-top story about his antics in a nightclub downtown. He stopped midsentence when I cleared my throat.
They all scurried away back to work except for Eden, who stared at me as if I was a fly in her borscht.
I can’t tell what makes her upset anymore. The hateful tension between us at the start was justified, given the extreme circumstances of how we met. Now, I thought we were finally of the same mind. Eden had accepted her place in the Bratva as my future wife after what Zakhar did and what she almost sacrificed for me.
But something is still clearly weighing heavily on her mind. But what?
And it’s times like that when I wonder if we’ll end up in separate beds like my parents. And then separate rooms. Finally, separate lives.
