Page 102 of Bratva and Betrayal: Kirill

I shudder, seeing how my life could have unfolded. Violet gave me a reason to keep going, but she never completely filled the space Sandrine left behind. I take a breath and enjoy my stroke of luck. After so many dead ends, I pulled one thread correctly. Bam. That lead about the auction is something I could have easily overlooked.

Now she’s mine again. I put everything into place where it belongs.

I remove my suit jacket and fold it over a chair. Violet sees me first, her head snapping up.

“Daddy!” She’s on her feet, racing toward me with bright streaks of paint still glistening on her tiny hands.

“I’m home.” I catch her as she collides into me.

I lift her easily despite the paint-slick palms pressing against my shirt. Raw silk that costs more than most men make in a month. I don’t care.

“She got you,” Sandrine says, ambling toward us. “It’s watercolor. It will come out.”

“I don’t mind being your canvas, solnyshko.” I glance at Sandrine over Violet’s head.

Yours, too.

Violet smells like soap and sugar. She’s warm and wiggly. And healthy. No hint of that nasty cold from last week.

“I missed you today,” Violet confesses easily.

“I missed you, too,” I say, and cradle the back of her head as she laughs into my shoulder.

My gaze stays on Sandrine as she watches us. She gives me this moment with my daughter, looking unsure if she should join in the hug. Her eyes search my face and then drift down to my arms like she wants in.

I smile, shift Violet to one side, and hold out my hand for her to join us.

Sandrine visibly swallows and nods, coming toward us. She folds into my other arm, and she feels steadier now than she did two weeks ago. Her mind was altered, but her body is the same.

There’s a faint flush along her cheekbones as she rests her head against my chest.

“This feels nice,” she whispers.

“It does,” I agree and kiss her forehead.

But I set Violet down reluctantly, smoothing a hand over her hair before she darts back toward her paints. She trusts that I’m here to stay home for the night.

“We have something to discuss,” I say to Sandrine, my voice sharpening to mark the change in my focus.

“Okay.” Her spine straightens, transforming from mother to wife.

My wife.

Fuck, if a growl doesn’t grow in my chest as well as my cock.

“The coronation,” I continue, ignoring the surge in my pants. “It’s set. Everything is in place.”

She nods slowly. “Ksenia has been briefing me.”

Safety and hiding are not the truth of this life. I went to extraordinary lengths to make Sandrine De la Vega part of this world. I won’t build anything false between us.

“We will be crowned together,” I say, already feeling like a king.

Her jaw twitches. “It’s why you needed to find me. To take your place.”

I exhale. “No. It’s not the only reason I hunted you.”

Her gaze holds mine, searching, questioning if it was only to be a mother, then. The longer she’s here, I want my wife back, too. I can’t remember the lines I’ve drawn and the distance I intended to keep.