Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 86242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Luka sips the milk slowly, his little body curling against mine as I stroke his hair, whispering soft words of comfort. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t sense the danger. He just trusts me, like he trusts Vadka. And that’s enough. For now, it’s enough.
I watch his eyelids flutter closed.
I glance over at Vadka, who stands in the doorway, watching us with that protective, quiet intensity of his. His gaze softens as he sees me holding Luka, and I swear, for a moment, the world seems to slow down. All the noise, all the urgency, fades away, and I see him—really see him. Not as my brother-in-law, not as some guy in the Bratva. I see him as… mine.
His eyes are warm, but there’s a hardness to them too. A resolve that comes from everything he’s been through, everything he’s seen. But in this moment, he’s just Vadka. The man who’s going to protect us, no matter what.
My heart swells with a mixture of love and gratitude. He walks over, his steps quiet, purposeful. He crouches down beside me, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from my face. His touch is warm, grounding, and in this moment, with Luka in my arms and Vadka beside me, everything feels right.
For a brief moment, it’s just the three of us, a family.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice barely above a breath.
He doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he simply presses his lips to my forehead, a soft, lingering kiss that speaks volumes. His strength, his steadiness—it’s everything I need. Everything I didn’t know I needed until now.
“Let’s get some rest,” he whispers. I’m exhausted.
I look around us as I follow him to the room. Back in the safe house, Rafail had apologized for putting the two of us in a room together.
Would they now? Will they be scandalized if we sleep in the same bed?
Does it matter?
We’re in a bedroom on the first floor, probably so we can be close to Luka, and I don’t have to use the stairs with this damn boot. Vadka takes our bags and opens the door for us. It’s quiet and well-furnished, with a sturdy king-sized bed, simple but elegant furniture, and thick blinds to block out the light. The walls hum with stillness. A pause. A breath.
The bedding is a stunning navy-blue-and-white pattern, heavy and welcoming. That bed looks like heaven after a long day like today.
While he puts our bags away, I walk to the bathroom and wash up for bed. I come back and find him stripped to his boxers. Squeee. I feel like I get a sleepover with my boy crush. The sight of his bare chest, those smoldering eyes, his strong, well-trained body…He pats the bed beside him. “Bed, baby.”
I stand awkwardly near the edge of the bed, my fingers working the buttons on my shirt. My hands shake more than I expected. Vadka watches from the bed, propped up on an elbow.
“You’re still limping.”
“I’m fine.”
He doesn’t answer but pushes off the bed and walks over to me. My fingers falter. One button left.
He brushes my hands aside. Wordless. Efficient. He undoes the last button and eases the fabric off my shoulder like he’s done this a thousand times in his mind.
I don’t breathe.
His hands are rough and scarred but precise. He doesn’t linger when he shouldn’t, at least not this time.
But I feel everything.
He reaches for the hem of my shirt next. Pauses.
I nod… barely.
He lifts it gently, tugging it over my head and discarding it. Then he kneels and undoes the straps of my ankle brace with care that has no place in this brutal world. Then he slides off my jeans, one leg at a time.
I would say there’s nothing sexual about him undressing me, that he’s taking care of me, that we’re tired and ready to sleep. But I would be lying. Every interaction with him is sexual. Every breath he takes turns me on. The back of his hand on my thigh as he has me slide one foot out of the jeans at a time has me molten.
But I’m so damn tired, and so is he; I can see it in the lines of his face and weariness in his movement.
I should feel vulnerable standing in front of him like this. I don’t. I feel… seen.
He pulls back the covers and motions for me to lie down. And when I climb in beside him, all warm and protective beside me, he tucks the blanket around me like I’m something precious.
Like I’m his.
“Sleep, baby,” he says softly, bending to give me a chaste kiss. “We need rest.”
Wordlessly, I lay my head on his chest. His arms encircle me, and I listen to the steady beating of his heart. I let myself relax under the reassuring weight of his arm around me. I sigh, close my eyes, and drift off to sleep.