I sighed.
You couldn’t argue with someone this delusional.
Chapter 84
Vadim
When I woke it was to the scent of her floral shampoo. I smiled, thinking of the bonus fuck in the shower last night. Moving into the west wing—my ass. I tightened my arms around her, loving the feel of her naked body pressed against mine. Her leg was trapped between mine.
Before I could think of the various ways to wake her up I heard Runa softly babbling to herself. I untangled myself from Iskra and crossed the room, hoping to catch Runa unaware.
I peered over the cot to find her playing with her hands. A crack in the curtains sent a shaft of light across her cot and she moved her fingers through it, talking to herself in that private language of hers.
I edged slowly around the cot so I wouldn’t startle her. We had positioned the cot carefully—ensuring the poor girl would never be traumatised by her parents’antics. Mostly her shameless mother’s, if we were being accurate.
“Good morning, little one,” I whispered as I reached her side.
Her tiny head jerked up and she reached for me with an excited squeal.
For me.
I scooped her up, freeing her from the blanket, and rested my hand over her nappy. Not too bad this morning. A feed then a change. I cradled her in one arm, accepting her face pats until she calmed enough to find my cheek.
“Daddy’s got you. I’ll never let you go anywhere,moya printsessa. You’ll live in your castle forever.”
“I’ll break her out,” Iskra said from the bed, stretching out like a cat.
“Don’t listen to her,printsessa,” I said, covering her ear with my hand.
I was keeping her. Forever.
Just like my shameless wife.
“And you get her breakfast out,” I said, waiting for her to arrange the pillows for Runa.
“You’re so moody this morning. I can’t even tell which one of us is pregnant,” she muttered, fixing the pillow into place.
I remained silent.
A trip to the basement would sort her out.
??????
Before Runa, I’d never considered bloodlines. If there was a traitor to the Bratva they died. A fixed rule. I’d met Mirko twice at Bratva gatherings but had never spoken a word to him.
“You worked with him, Konstantin. What do you make of Mirko?”
“He’s a cold-blooded killer.”
“We all are,” I said, rolling my eyes at the obvious answer.
“Let me put it another way,” he said, patting his jacket for a smoke.“If I had a wife and child, I wouldn’t want him anywhere near them.”
He knew where my priorities lay.
“I asked because he is the last of Sergei,” I said, opening the compartment in front of me to pass him a packet of cigarettes.
“No offence, Pakhan, but you should probably be more worried about what Mrs Dragunova could do to him,” Bogdan muttered from the passenger seat.
