It was a rundown casino before I bought it, but with Timur’s help, we transformed it into a high-end club. The expensive wine list and the fine cocktails attract only the most prestigious guests. That was the plan from the get-go—to appeal to an upper-class demographic and make the place as luxurious as possible, and to conceal some of the big money moves that happen behind the scenes.
Today, Timur and I stay in the main room, each of us grabbing a glass of vodka from the bar. We walk over to the VIP section and corner ourselves into a booth, away from the hustle and bustle. It’s Friday night, so the place is teeming with people. The low murmur of conversations and clinking glasses creates the perfect cover for business talk.
“You seem quiet tonight.” Timur adjusts his shirt—a white one, the top button undone. “What’s bothering you, boss?”
I down half my vodka before answering. “Lauren’s pregnant. It’s mine.”
His brows lift, surprise flickering across his features. Clearly Sophia, even if Lauren told her, hasn’t passed on thenews. He doesn’t say anything—just shifts in his seat and looks away. The silence stretches between us. He knows what I’m thinking, and I know he’s thinking the same thing. That nothing good will come of this if Aslanov finds out.
“Congratulations… I guess? Is she keeping it?”
I rake a hand through my hair and take another gulp of vodka. “She’s more than three weeks in. She hasn’t booked an appointment for an abortion yet.”
Timur leans back, a knowing smirk crossing his face. “I take it she doesn’t want you involved in the kid’s life?”
I give him a side-eye. “Give her time.”
Timur sits forward, his expression turning serious as he watches me. “Co-parenting requires trust, Niko. She’s only going to let you in if she trusts you.”
I scoff. “All I’ve been trying to do is protect her. She has no reason not to trust me.”
“Protection is not the same as trust. Besides, what is protection to you is control to her. She thinks her father is controlling. The last thing she’s going to want is another man controlling her and her child.”
I stare at Timur over the rim of my glass, his words hitting me like a punch to the gut. I didn’t see that coming. Then again, he’s my right-hand man for a reason—he cuts through my bullshit and sees what I can’t.
“I would give my child the world,” I say, my voice low and steady. “Not take it away from them by trying to control their life.”
“You don’t have to prove that to me, boss,” Timur replies, swirling the vodka in his glass. “But to Lauren, you’re just another criminal she can’t trust," he says, addressing the elephant in the room.
Blyad.
The words sting because they’re true. In her eyes, that’s all I am—a ruthless mobster who’s invaded her life and turned it upside down.
But Lauren’s trust is a luxury I can’t afford to wait for.
Because whether she trusts me or not, one thing is crystal clear. As long as her father’s tangled up in Aslanov’s business, and as long as she’s carryingmybaby, she is in grave danger.
What started as a game has just become deadly serious.
Lauren can hate me all she wants. She can fight me every step of the way. But if I don’t step in now, she’s going to get herself killed. Just like her mother. And I’ll be damned if I let that happen.
Not to her.
Not to my child.
Chapter Thirteen
Lauren
I log into my desktop at the office, not really knowing where to start.
Emails flood my inbox. Last-minute adjustments, risk assessments, projected yield reports. Numbers I know by heart. Numbers that keep me valuable on the corporate ladder.
As long as I do good work, I remain an asset here.
But even better, as long as I’m working here, I have access to all of my father’s financial records that might, one day, all jigsaw together and reveal what I’m secretly looking for. Each file, each transaction could be the missing piece I need.
But it’s not just about that. I actually love what I do. All things aside, work keeps me sane, and I need it as a distraction now, more than ever, to prevent myself from spiraling into a not-so-pleasant state of mind. The familiar rhythm of analysis and calculation usually centers me, grounds me in something I can control.
