Page 25 of Inked in Devotion

“Is Irina fine with Chloe?”

“She is…she once told me she would never blame a child for her parents’ mistakes. And I think Aralina would be okay…maybe not. It might be awkward.”

“Are you using me, Ivan, because you’re a coward⁠—”

“I don’t want to cause anyone pain⁠—”

“You’re being a coward.”

Ivan smacked the back of my head. “Show some respect, pup. I may not be your pakhan any longer, but I’m still your elder.”

I laughed briefly. Ivan definitely was a wimp when it came to the women. Not that I blamed him. He had a charmed life now with Irina and Aralina. But this business of Chloe continued to haunt him.

Pain pinched my chest as I imagined an abandoned Chloe at four years old. I had a copy of the picture of her with Ivan.

The happiness in that child’s eyes versus the haunted look of the woman across from me during arbitration when Maksim mentioned Ivan, stirred unsettling emotions inside my chest and was the reason I hadn’t scheduled my first custody visit yet.

And Ivan was right. He was a cautionary tale where his selfishness might have ruined the life of a mother and child.

My phone rang.

“We got the kids, including the congressman’s daughter,” Sato said, his voice was strained. “Our sniper took out the four guards securing the place. Fuck, man, they were in cages.” It wasn’t the first time we’d found humans caged like animals.

But the horror was different when it was children. And despite my role as the bratva’s hit man, feeling my gut curl in disgust at the situation was a relief that maybe there was a shred of humanity that set me apart from these sick fuckers.

“So we’re done?” I asked.

“Yeah, whack him.”

“Got it.”

I stalked back into the room. My chat with Ivan amplified my aggression. Especially now that I have a son, the human trafficking of children became personal. I went straight to my duffel bag and extracted my face shield.

Ivan raised a brow. “Should I step outside?”

“If you don’t want to get splattered.” I stared pointedly at the bottle he had collared with his fingers. “Leave me some vodka.”

I unsheathed the machete.

Wilson started screaming.

Fifteen minutes later, I was done. The chair had toppled over, and Wilson was lying in a pool of his own blood and other bodily excrement, struggling with his final breaths.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with.” The words were barely audible.

It wasn’t the words that sent a chill through me.

The malicious smile that curved his mouth before he took his last breath?

That was unexpected.

Chapter

Six

Chloe

“Are you ready?” Marena Rodriguez stood at the threshold of the Renewed Hope office.