Page 57 of The Pakhan’s Hidden Heir

Two lives I care about that I have to defend against my enemies.

Two chances for me to lose, for my life to be sucked out of me again. It’s almost too much.

The weight of it crushes me with every breath I take, reminding me how fragile this new reality feels after so many years of control.

I thought I’d be fine. Staying coolly detached is my signature move. It’s what I’m good at. I’ve perfected it, though that ability has been sorely tested for the past nine months, but I’m not a failure. And I’m not a weak man.

So why am I wringing my hands with anxious tension over the birth of my heir? The question circles my mind without an answer that satisfies me.

I’ve built an empire on calculated moves and unyielding strength, but this moment strips it all back to raw need.

A nurse hurries past the inner door with a stack of folded towels in her arms, and I catch it before it swings shut, straining to hear what’s happening.

Dr. Nikitin’s voice rumbles out to meet my ear, giving instructions I can’t quite make out.

Then Raina cries loudly again, longer this time.

I can’t believe how it makes tension ripple through every cell in my being. I let the door fall closed and drag a hand back through my hair to hide my nervous tension. Demid shouldn’t see his leader like this.

I’m practically falling apart here.

“She’s strong, boss,” Demid says. “And Ingrid’s in there with her. She’s not alone.”

“I know she’s not alone,” I snap, furious with myself that I’m the one needing reassurance right now. My focus stays locked on the door, willing it to give me some sign that this is progressing as it should.

It’s like I’ve lost Agnya all over again. The same swirling doubt and pain.

The unraveling of my thoughts until I’m spiraling into dark places that threaten to hold me captive again. I barely broke out of that, and I hurt a lot of people needlessly in the process. I can’t go there again.

I have to hold it together.

Memories of that old grief threaten to suffocate me, but I push them back, forcing my mind to stay in this room and this moment.

Raina is not Agnya, and this child represents something new I must protect with everything I have.

A thin little wail is muffled by the walls, and I stop by the door with my hand splayed on the cool wood to listen to it.

Demid gets to his feet and walks over to me as the wail grows louder.

Under it I can still hear Raina, who sounds like she’s crying now, maybe happy tears.

It pulls at my heart and I find myself taking two steps toward that door. But I make myself stop.

I don’t know if I can even look at them. For nine months I’ve battled this monster inside of me that’s so foolish.

It thinks I can have it all. It lures me and tempts me into desiring the gift of a family, a wife, a child—a real home.

And I know it’s all a lie. One day everything is happy, and the next day I’m standing over a grave after my enemies have attacked and slaughtered that which I held dear.

The battle inside me intensifies as that cry continues, pulling me closer to the edge of what I’ve kept locked away.

I clench my jaw harder, refusing to let the temptation win in this instant.

Only this time, it would be two lives. Not one.

When I turn around, thinking I’ll see Demid waiting for me, I see Akim as well. He stands aloof, glowering at the door behind which my son is still screaming his head off. It’s so loud there’s no doubt in my mind he’s healthy.

“What do you want us to do, boss?” Akim is awaiting orders, like any good soldier. Things have changed instantly, and my men know this. A baby means heightened risk.