Page 8 of Inked in Devotion

“I don’t believe you.” She tipped her chin up defiantly.

“If you’re implying I was there to kill you, you would be dead.” My mouth twisted cruelly. “I had countless opportunities to break your neck, remember?”

Color climbed her cheeks. Yes. She remembered. She’d been on her knees sucking my cock. With my fingers controlling her head movements, I could have easily snapped her neck.

I stepped closer. She tried to evade me, but I reeled her in. Her chest rose and fell, and her breathing turned erratic.

Her hips seemed rounder, but her tits appeared the same.

“Where’s my son, Chloe?” I asked softly. Her entire body jerked.

Tears filled her eyes, and fear clouded them. “What are you going to do to Sebastian?” Her sob hitched. She was genuinely scared.

“What do you think I’m going to do?” I asked.

“You can’t have him.”

I stepped back and sighed. “You honestly think I’m going to take my son away from his mother?”

Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes. “Then…”

“He will need the bratva’s protection.”

“I’m handling his security.”

“No,” I growled. “He’s a Petrov. He will grow up in the bratva.”

“What are you saying? I’m not marrying you.”

Her statement was so absurd, I threw back my head and laughed. When I stopped, she was glaring at me as if I’d insulted her. I probably had, but better she knew the score now than later.

“Men like me don’t marry. We exist to protect the bratva. My son will do the same. I will support you, of course. Provide a house…”

The fear in her eyes morphed into undisguised contempt. “Absolutely not! You don’t get to dictate this after you disappeared on me and⁠—”

“No names. No regrets. Remember?” I reminded her. And the asshole in me couldn’t help taunting, “What’s the matter? You needed a cuddle? A sweet goodbye?”

Her lips curled into a sneer. “I certainly wasn’t expecting to be left behind like discarded trash.”

“I cleaned up after myself. You should be thankful.”

Why was I antagonizing her? I realized my setup was not ideal, but the Petrovs, especially my line, were steeped in centuries of tradition. We were bred to kill. Warriors. My son would have to go through stringent initiation and training when he came of age.

I can’t marry her. If I married her, she would become a target.

“We’ll discuss this after I see my son.”

The door to the apartment opened, and Dominic De Lucci walked in with that guy Trevor, who Kirill had wanted me to off, but Lucy found out and countermanded him. Kirill was jealous, but now I wondered if going behind his wife’s back would have been an excellent idea.

“Do they simply walk in here?” I glared at the newcomers.

“I own this place, asshole,” De Lucci growled. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Nic is Sebastian’s father.”

“Nic?” Dom’s brows furrowed before they shot up in realization. “Oh, fuck.”

I glared at Chloe. “Please call me anything but Nic—Kolya, or Nikolai.”