Otets never trained me to be comfortable. He trained me to be relentless. To do what needs to be done.
And that’s exactly what I’m planning to do.
The sooner I get Sima pregnant, the sooner this thing between us ends, the sooner I can use her properly. That’s how it’s supposed to work. Clean, simple, transactional. She’s a powerful bargaining chip. Dangling her in front of Nikolai could end this guerrilla war in seconds.
But the more we go on, the less simple it feels. All of it.
I don’t just want her—Icraveher. When I’m at work, when I’m handling Bratva business, when I’m washing off the sweat of the day. My skin crawls with the addiction of her. It’s new, and not something I’ve trained for.
I think about the way her hair falls into her face when she’s beneath me. The little gasps she makes when I push into her just right. How gorgeous she looks flushed and breathless, like I’ve taken her apart piece by piece and put her back together just for me.
I’ve been enjoying every second of trying to get her pregnant far too much, and I know it. This was supposed to be duty. A means to an end.
But I’m greedy for her in ways that have nothing to do with heirs.
I throw a combination into the bag, hard enough to make the chain rattle. My father’s voice keeps pounding in my head.
“Duty comes first. Duty to your family, duty to your Bratva. To yourpakhan.”
Too bad I’m thepakhannow. No one can tell me what to do or what my duty is. It should be liberating, but it’s not. Thecrown weighs heavy. There are responsibilities that come with it, which makes it my job to keep my eye on the ball every second of every day. No one else to do it for me now.
No one but me.
“Don’t indulge in distractions.”The memory of my father’s words burns a hole in me.“They’ll get you killed faster than your enemies.”
I used to believe him completely, at least on this. Now, I’m not so sure. I can’t seem to stop myself with Sima, no matter how many times I recite his teachings. Even when I remind myself that letting her in is a mistake, my hands still reach for her.
She asks questions and I end up sharing. Much, much more than I ever planned. Keep giving her pieces of me.
But she lied—again. About her family. Always, always about her family.
“One brother, one sister.”She didn’t even fucking blink when she said it. I know it’s not the truth, and it pisses me off that I can’t call her out on it.
Maybe it’s hypocritical of me to be angry. God knows I’m the biggest liar out of the two of us. But every lie she tells is an itch under my skin, one I can’t seem to scratch out of me.
Because, in my world, secrets are a death sentence.
I drop to the mat for push-ups. Each rep is punctuated by the litany of my problems.
The Danilos inching in.
Mikhael circling like a shark.
The missing shipment.
And now, a wife who keeps parts of herself locked away like I’m the enemy.
You are,the darker part of me reminds me. The part that sounds too much like my father.You are her enemy. And she’s yours.
35
PETYR
I avoid Sima all day after that.
I rise early, go to work before she wakes, and don’t come back until deep into the night. But the uncertainty is a constant itch under my skin, so I have Luka keep tabs on her for me. He’s texting me hourly updates.
“She’s in class.”
