One night, Valentina had lied and told me that Kazimir met Ava and was fucking her. At first, I didn’t believe her. I phoned my security team monitoring Ava. They confirmed that Kazimir was inside of her penthouse. I couldn’t even look at the footage.
My cousin was the only man that I wouldn’t fight Ava over. I loved him too much. And with the way I’d been obsessed with Ava, I would’ve wanted to kill him.
Confused with what I would do, I went back home with Valentina and got drunk. Perhaps, she had gotten me intoxicated on purpose. That night we had some form of sex. Surely, my cock went in and out of that vile tunnel, but I had not been thinking about Valentina. Ava’s face had replaced hers.
I doubted Valentina had enjoyed either. In the midst of the fucking, she had moaned Olesya’s name.
Months later, Valentina told Kazimir that she was pregnant. I’d asked her if I was the father. She’d argued and came close to shooting me.
I left her alone.
She was pregnant after all.
There was no reason to get her and the baby sick and riled up with stress.
She fled to Canada after that heated discussion.
Trying to solve the situation, I delivered the stroller to her, hoping the gift would entice her to get a paternity test.
Valentina loved James Bond movies, especially when every Bond sped around in those luxury cars. What would be better than getting a stroller from the same manufacture that made Aston Martins—the signature Bond cars?
It’s just as beautiful as I thought it would be.
I stared at the stroller, too scared to get closer and see the baby.
The stroller was a Silver Cross Surf Aston Martin Edition. Well over four thousand dollars. Fine British engineering and craftsmanship. But high-end comfort and style for the baby. The company had only made six hundred units. There was supposed to be an engraved chrome plaque on the back.
Other factors drove up the price tag. The company had used the same suede from the Aston Martin’s roofs. Same pearlescent white paint finish on the stroller’s frame. They included silver custom wheels. And there was air-ride suspension, so the mother could have a smooth voyage to the park or wherever Valentina wanted to take her.
But the stroller didn’t help.
Whereas I thought it would be the most expensive present for the baby, here came Kazimir. The maniac bought Natalya a plane worth eighty million dollars.
No one could compete with that.
From the bedroom, Valentina yelled in broken English. “You break my heart, Maxwell!”
“Baby, we barely know each other.”
“Still, my heart is broken!”
“My shoes were missing!”
“Your shoes are not as precious as my heart!”
I returned to the stroller, hoping that her daughter was inside.
Finally, I’ll get see Natalya.
Kazimir was also the one to inform me of Natalia’s birth. He called in the middle of the night with the news.
Valentina wouldn’t answer my calls, so I had put cameras in her house. She found the cameras by the next day and moved to a new place. I’d found Valentina’s new Toronto address in a few hours. No one could truly hide from me. But it had been impossible to get cameras in there since her men were on guard.
Is Natalya in the stroller? What will I do?
I took another step forward.
There was barely two feet between the stroller and me.
Closer, I peeked in.
Valentina’s men didn’t look my way. There would be no reason to think that I would do the baby any harm. In some way, I was the baby’s cousin. Not by blood relation, but all knew that I cared for Valentina—no matter how much the blonde demon didn’t deserve it.
Okay. I’m here. Look.
I studied the little baby in the stroller.
My breath caught in my throat.
She was sleeping. Little pink teddy bear headphones covered her ears. I was about to remove them, thinking about the cord possibly choking her, but they were wireless. Blonde curls outlined her small face. She had pudgy little cheeks that were tinted pink. She was about six months old. I’d marked her birth date in my calendar.
Are you mine, little one? Why won’t your mother tell me? What’s the big deal?
I inched closer.
While Natalya slept, she held her left hand a little bit above her. Those tiny fingers had fisted something.
I reached in.
Movement came from my side.
I turned with my hand in mid-air.
The guard looked up from his newspaper. “I am sorry, Misha. But I must ask you to stop whatever you are going to do. Natalya is sleeping.”
“She is holding on to something.”
“Her pacifier.” He turned back to the newspaper.
“I just want to make sure she is safe.”
He nodded.
What else could he do?
I would kill him, if he made me step away from her.
But also another idea popped in my head.
The pacifier! It’ll have her saliva on it. DNA.