“Then I’ll take back my good-luck wish.” Yulian kisses me again, deeper this time. I lose myself to it—the feeling of his fingers on my chin, the scrape of his beard on my face. His cologne,cedarwood and amber and dark, dark promises. “And buy a bottle of the finest sparkling cider the world has to offer.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I grin. “Tonight?”
Yulian’s face clouds briefly. “Not tonight,” he says. “I’ve got… business.” A strange sense of unease settles on my shoulders. But then Yulian’s expression clears as he adds, “Tomorrow. We’ll celebrate tomorrow.”
Tomorrow.A good word. A hopeful word. “I like the sound of that,” I whisper against his lips. I steal one more kiss, then dash out.
The courthouse is as solemn as I left it. I’m a little early, but that’s on purpose. I wanted to get here before my family and friends. Definitely before Isaak.
Apparently, someone else got the same idea.
Brad flashes me a victorious grin from across the hallway. Smithers isn’t there yet, but I knew he wouldn’t be. Brad was always an early bird. Today, he has even more incentive to be here before anyone else. He expects my surrender.
Too fucking bad.
As if to confirm that, he swaggers towards me. “Come to beg for mercy?”
“Should I?” I keep my tone casual. “Beg for mercy?”
“A smart woman would.”
“Thought you said I wasn’t smart.”
“You could change my mind.” He accompanies that comment with a sneer. “Or try to, anyway.”
I could tell him off right now. Nip this in the bud, end the game before we even get started on round three.
But I want to savor this.
It’s a very Bratva-esque feeling. It’s the kind of thing Yulian would do. Certainly not meek little Mia, with her BSc in running scared and a lifetime’s worth of experience in keeping her head down.
Guess I’ve changed, too.
Because this time, I’m holding my head way fucking high.
“And what would that look like?” I pretend to be interested. “Your mercy?”
Brad’s chest puffs up even more. He reminds me of a subway pigeon, strutting along the tracks, oblivious to the headlights coming up behind him. “Well, let’s see. You didn’t behave very gracefully last time I showed you kindness. You’re gonna have to earn that back. In fact, I’m thinking I could use a new maid.”
“A maid, huh?”
“Sure.” He leans down, tone lecherous. “Clean my house by day, clean my pipes by night. On your knees, like the bitch you are. With good behavior, you’ll be back in my bed within the year.”
His words make me sick. Everything about him makes me sick. I think back to that summer together, all those years ago, and can’t fathom what ever drew me to him. To this monster wearing the face of a man.
Because he wasn’t all bad.The memories fill my heart with a pang of regret.There was still hope for him. If he’d chosendifferently—if he’d chosen to be a good man instead of a bad one.
But he didn’t.
“What about the baby?”
“My doctor will take care of that.” He throws a disgusted glance at my belly. “You should’ve known better than to test me like this, sweet thing. It’s not smart.”
Fire rises through me. Fire and fucking brimstone. And then, to my surprise, a new feeling bubbles up right on its heels. I can’t help it—I laugh.
And laugh. And laugh. Andlaugh.
A vein starts popping on Brad’s temple. “Something funny?”
