1
Leonid
Meow?
I toss my phone onto the desk, annoyed as hell. Why does it even matter that the kid called me like I’m a cat?
Suka,why am I even thinking about it?
He’s what? Three? Four?
Pizda. Four?
I freeze, my mind grinding to a halt.
Four…That’s… the time. That night. The one I’ve shoved deep into the back of my mind. Her. Red. Clara.Govno.
I can still feel how her body trembled as my cock moved inside her, her eyes filled with lust behind her mask. She eagerly licked her lips, craving more.
Yob tvoyu mat’.
I shake my head, trying to clear the memory, but it sticks to me like smoke.
No.It can’t be.
It’s impossible. I shouldn’t care. I don’t care.
But the timing. The way the kid looked at me. The way he looks like… Damn it. I can’t even finish that thought.
I stand up, pacing.Patience—it’s what I’m good at. It’s how I survived this long. But when it comes to this?Chyert,I’m not used to this feeling. All questions, no answers. And I’m not the type who waits for answers to come on their own.Fuck that.
The door creaks open behind me. Dmitry’s heavy boots barely make a sound as he walks in. “The kid’s sleeping now,” he says, voice low, quieter than usual. I glance up at him.
On the monitor, Clara is still out cold, lying on the bed, unmoving. The kid is curled up next to her, his small body pressed close against her, his little hand gripping her shirt like it’s his lifeline. He’s holding some toy—something weird-looking—but his fingers tremble, even in his sleep.
Dmitry’s massive hand hovers over the screen, fingers twitching like he wants to reach out, but he doesn’t. He just stands there, staring at the kid with something that looks too much like…regret.
Blyat’.
I grunt, trying to shake off the weight that’s pressing down on my chest.
“Good,” I mutter, though it doesn’t feel good at all. Not with that kid lying there, clutching onto her like he’s got no one else in the world.
Kayla’s voice echoes down the hall, a mix of panic and Spanish curses. She’s freaking out. I can picture her, eyes wide, pacing the kitchen. Dmitry scratches his head, looking at me. “Kayla’s… not handling it well. When she saw the kid, her eyes were as big as the fucking full moon.”
I huff out a breath, leaning on the desk.
Of course she’s panicking.
My eyes flick to the clock—2 AM.
I didn’t expect a fucking kid either, but here we are.
“Tell her to calm down,” I mutter, waving it off. My jaw clenches. My fingers drum against the wooden table.
A kid. I didn’t sign up for this.
But no one—no one—gets a free pass for trying to poison me. Not even Red.
