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I let out my sigh of relief through my nose. “Okay. But you’re here, so obviously that means they’ve got nothing. But your gut…”
“My gut says it was your parents behind this. Using their connections to make my life hell.”
“Impeccable timing.” I shake my head. “They’re conniving, but they’re not that good.”
“You’re thinking it’s a coincidence?”
I bite my tongue. The way he’s looking at me, talking to me, it’s almost like he genuinely values my input. That would be… something. Something different. “You want my opinion?”
Pasha suddenly frowns at me like I’ve just slapped him. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
I… I don’t actually know. Usually, people don’t care about my opinion unless it makes them money. This is different. This is about family. “I think it’s a wise move to assume nothing is a coincidence. Not until we can prove otherwise.”
Again, I bite my tongue, but only because I’m feeling a sudden surge of rage welling up inside me.
They stole this from us.
They stole something precious we’ll never, ever get back.
How could they?
How dare they?
“What are you going to do?” I ask him. I’m all fire and fury. No fear of what he could do. I know what he could do, and none of it scares me anymore.
Not if it will avenge our loss.
Pasha leans forward to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. And then he smiles, all wolfish teeth and dark promise.
“Don’t worry, moya plamya. I will make them pay.”
4
PASHA
I make another note to send to my new assistant once I hire one: Significant donation to hospital maternity ward.
It’ll be hefty. Enough to bring this whole place up to the standard my family deserves. The Tatyanna Chekhov Maternity Ward has a nice ring to it.
Fatherhood is really changing me.
“You’ve been a father all of two minutes,” Mak chuckles next to me.
“Remind me again why you’re here?”
“Uh-oh. Normal Pasha is back. I was really starting to enjoy Daddy Pasha.”
“Call me that one more time, I dare you.”
Mak grins and salutes me with his bottle of water. “Hey, come on, now. We’re all family here. I even brought you your favorite drink to wake you up.” He hands me another bottle of water—that is definitely not water—and sits down in the lounge chair next to me. “How are they doing?”
“Getting settled in their new room. Daphne’s still hurting from the stitches.” I try not to wince at the thought of her being torn up. It’s nothing that will ever turn me off; the fact that she’ll have battle scars from bringing my child into the world is actually giving me a boner just thinking about it.
I’m more put off by the fact that I indirectly caused her that pain. My seed, my baby.
I never wanted to hurt her—and yet here I am, ticking off all the boxes.
“Yeah.” Mak sips his drink and nods. “Kid’s got a big head. What?” he asks when I shoot him a glare. “She’s barely a day old and wicked smart! Frankly, I’m a little scared of her.”
