And then he lowers himself down.
“No,” Sver pounds on the glass as the other men pull him back. “I want my daughter. Give me my daughter!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Ryker
The word daughterslices through me as I let go of the rail and wrap one arm around Sasha’s waist.
She hears it too, her wide eyes tipping up to mine, her mouth forming a small O. I don’t ask, as I let her waist go again, and then heave a leg back over the rail.
Inside our bedroom, it’s gone quiet.
Sver has dropped to his hands and knees, pushing the two pistols away, sliding them toward Killian and Gris.
They both pick them up, Killian instantly checking the chamber and then leveling the gun at Sver’s head.
Gris does the same.
“Check him for other weapons,” Killian commands, Dimitri patting him down as I hold Sasha, watching.
She can’t see what’s happening, but she doesn’t need to. She’s already trembling in my arms. “Your hands, love,” I remind her. “Pull them in so you don’t irritate the wounds.”
“That’s what you’re thinking about?” she huffs, but still does as I command.
I kiss her temple, wishing I could hear more, but the glass blocks all but the loudest sounds.
“About your safety and care. You can bet on it.”
She shakes her head, rubbing her face against my shoulder. I have a moment where I doubt myself. I could be on the ground by now.
Sver lays on the floor, feet and arms spread wide. He lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine.
I step up to the glass, looking to my brothers for affirmation of what I should do next. We have always been a team.
I should not have forgotten that.
Killian gives me the barest glance and then barks an order, “Pull him away from the door.”
Rush and Triston each grab a leg, pulling him toward the bathroom. He doesn’t resist.
Placing my finger on the pad, I unlock the door.
As I step inside, I see Sver relax, his shoulders melting into the floor. “Thank you,” he says in a thick Russian accent.
Sasha unhooks one leg from my waist and then the other. I let her, but I have no intention of letting her stand on her own.
Today could break a person, and she needs both my physical and emotional support.
Which is why I keep my arms around her waist, her body leaned into mine.
“What did you mean, I’m your daughter?” Her voice is soft, quiet, but it carries in the silence of the room.
Sver picks up his head. “Try to understand…”
She jolts in my arms. “Understand what?”
“I was in love with your mother. And Ivan was the cruelest of all to her.”
