Page 66 of Bratva and Betrayal: Kirill

“You’ll see a doctor at Norridge tomorrow,” he says, his tone returning to formal and distant. “If you need lifetime care, you’ll have it. Medication, treatment, therapy, whatever is necessary.” His gaze flicks back to me. “I accept you as you are. And our daughter will, too. I understand you will have moments of confusion and other sensitivities, but I expect you to be a mother to our child.”

I scoff at his cold terms and conditions that are not the start of a love story. We had that. And according to him, I ruined it. Because I still left my family.

For a moment, his flustered expression suggests he realizes he said the wrong thing.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing.”

“No. Say it.” I cross my arms. “You didn’t have any problem telling me that all you want me for now is to help you co-parent Violet.”

“That’s not all I want.” His gaze drops to my mouth for the briefest second before he looks back into my eyes. “I mean… It’s like I said, you’ll have everything you need.”

“And what do you need, Kirill?”

He just stares at me. Again, what Lourdes said to me keeps ringing in my ears. I chose Kirill. Lived with him. I married him. Had his baby. And planned forever with him.

Right until the day I left. But why did I go if he specifically told me not to leave? This part of the story is all he’s been left with for five years. I’m just catching up after two days.

“I need to run my brotherhood without family complications getting in the way.”

Ouch. I look away, shaking my head.

“You left these, too.”

I turn to see him reach into his pocket and pull out a velvet pouch, emptying it into his hand. Rings. The diamond engagement ring I recognize from the video. The other, a plain platinum band.

“I didn’t realize you left without these at the time. I found them in your jewelry box weeks later.”

My breath catches at how that makes me look guilty. He thought I left him on purpose. That I left my child.

Did I, though?

I look down and notice the wedding band on his left ring finger. “Did you wear that the whole time?”

“I was married the whole time, wasn’t I?” he says wryly.

“Was I living here?” I ask.

“We didn’t live here. This is my father’s home,” he says simply. “Iron Keep is the base of the Volkov Brotherhood Operations. After my father’s third stroke, I moved us here.”

Us: He and Violet. I’m not part of that. Yet.

“Where did we live?” I poke my chest. “You and me?”

“In my penthouse. Downtown. We shared a bed, Sandrine. We had a very satisfying physical relationship. We made love nearly every night. You couldn’t get enough of me. And I felt the same. We fucked right up until Violet was born. Then…not again.”

I blink in surprise. “Why not?”

He tilts his head at my interest. “She was three weeks old. You weren’t ready.”

“Oh,” I manage through those harsh reminders. “Do you want a sexual relationship with me again?”

“I need a son,” he deadpans, and a beat passes. “Maybe two.”

“You’re keeping me as your wife solely to give you more children?”

“I’m not the same man I was five years ago,” he admits. “I don’t know what I’m emotionally capable of.”