Page 144 of The Bratva King

“I can’t be kept in the dark about threats to my son. That isn’t a preference, Pasha. It’s the line.”

“I agree with you,” he says simply.

I wasn’t expecting that.

“I told him the same thing.” He sets the dinosaur on the side table. “I’m not here to defend what he did. But before you decide whether to stay or go, you should understand that Nik has his own way of doing things. It’s not wrong. It’s different.”

That’s exactly what I say about Luke. He’s not wrong. He’s different.

“He doesn’t know how to ask for what he needs,” Pasha goes on. “Most of the time, he doesn’t know what he needs. But I’ve watched him with your boy, and I’m telling you that what he feels for Luke is real. He will protect Luke like he’s his own. No second-guessing. No hesitation.”

I press my lips together and blink hard. I will not cry in front of a man I barely know.

“I appreciate you telling me that,” I say.

He stands and straightens his shirt.

“You’re hiding something. We all have our secrets. But understand this: The way you feel about Luke is the way I feel about Nik. What you would do to protect your son, I’ll do to protect my brother. Right or wrong, I won’t hesitate.”

Then, he turns and walks out.

I believe Nikolai would step in front of a bullet for Luke without thinking twice. And I know he loves him like his own.

That’s what makes this so hard.

It would be easier if Nik gave me a reason to hate him. A reason to fear him.

But protection isn’t love if it costs you your choice.

And I will not teach my son that it is.

34

Nikolai

Days pass. She’s in the house, but she makes sure our paths rarely cross. When they do, she doesn’t look at me like she used to. She’s there, but I can tell she’s already got one foot out the door.

I don’t know how to apologize. I’ve never been good at it. In my experience, apologies are words people use when they want forgiveness without changing anything.

I do what I know. I take action.

The sitting room in the east wing hasn’t been used since I bought this place. When I moved in, I had someone furnish it. Two chairs. A table. Nothing I chose. It gets a lot of sunlight, so I kept the curtains closed. It wasn’t like my office, where everything had a purpose.

I call Luke’s therapy center. Two phone calls later, my apology is underway. What should have taken a week is finished in two days. Kylie worked on the final touches in the evening while Luke was occupied in the cinema room or asleep.

The next morning, I stand in the middle of the finished room before I bring Luke in. I try to see it through his eyes. It’s quiet. Ordered. A place that makes sense. A place where the world outside can’t get too loud.

My mother would have loved this room for me.

I find Luke, knowing Gabby will be with him. She’s always with him or close enough to reach him. Ready for whatever threat comes next.

He’s in the kitchen eating cereal. Cocoa Puffs again. Gabby stands at the counter with her coffee, staring out at the backyard. She turns around when I walk in. Her eyes hold mine. I miss being the first thing she sees when she wakes up.

“Morning,” she says.

“Morning.”

I look at Luke. “I want to show you something.”