And that’s enough. Those words…they’re enough. Because I believe them.
He may be dangerous to half the world. But I know he would never hurt me. He’s already proven that.
With my hand still in his, I finally step out of the car. The walk to the house feels endless, and by the time we reach the porch, my nerves are back in full force.
Kirill knocks, and a few seconds later, the door opens halfway, my sister filling the frame. Her expression hardens the moment she sees me.
“What do you want?” she snaps. Then her eyes shift past me to Kirill. “And who the hell is this?”
He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even slow down. His hand squeezes around mine, and before she can even react, he steps forward, brushing right past her like she’s nothing more than an obstacle.
The door swings shut behind us while I’m still staring at Camille. I can’t help it. The look on her face is pure shock, like she can’t believe someone just marched into her house before she had time to protest.
“Excuse me!” She spins around. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
Kirill doesn’t release my hand. “The owner of this house. Not that I’m here to explain myself to you.”
“What?” she scoffs.
“I’m not here to answer your questions. What I need is simple. Go pack Milo’s things and get him.”
Her eyes flick between us, and then her lip curls.
“Really?” She lets out a piercing laugh. “You just shack up with any loser who wants to fuck you? Typical. You spread your legs for whoever you want, but Milo’s not going anywhere.”
The words rip through me before I even process them.
But Kirill does. He releases me and steps forward with a menacing prowl, the change in his posture both immediate and dangerous.
“What did you just say to her?”
Camille lifts her chin. “You heard me.”
The next movement is so quick, I barely register it.
He reaches beneath his jacket and pulls out his gun. The room freezes.
“You’re only alive right now because of the love I have for your sister.” He edges closer until Camille has to tilt her head back to meet his stare. “But I swear to you, one more wrong word and I will put a bullet right here.”
He taps the barrel between her eyes.
“Now go pack Milo’s things. Because he is coming home with us.”
Camille’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Probably smart.
“This isn’t a negotiation,” Kirill continues. “Believe me, you don’t want it to be, or you will find yourself not only homeless, but dead.”
It looks like she wants to argue. I can see it in the way her lips open and close. But the gun still in his grip stops her. She pivots and disappears down the hallway instead.
My legs go weak. This is actually happening. I’ll have my baby back.
Kirill’s fingers slice through mine like nothing just happened, while I wait eagerly to see Milo. Minutes later, Camille returnswith Milo’s small backpack and a duffel bag, Milo running down the stairs behind her the second he sees me.
“Mommy!”
The sound hits me straight in the chest. I drop to my knees just in time to catch him as he throws himself into my embrace, his arms locking around my neck like he’s afraid I might disappear again.
“I missed you,” he says into my shoulder.
