How did he do it? Leave me flushed and my stomach fluttering with just a look. My heart would do a pitter-patter dance every time I was in Lyov’s presence.
“My name means Lion. I am a hunter. I like to possess and own things until they are solely mine. But I am also the protector of my pride, Angel. It’s deeply ingrained in me. It means I protect those I love. That also means I am your protector because I happen to love you very much. Fuck, I more than just love you. Love is a weak word to describe what I feel for you. I am yours as much as you are mine. When I made you mine, I promised that you will never lack anything. There are no limits on the hell I would walk through to make sure you are always smiling…always happy. Do you understand that, Maria?”
There we go again. That pitter-patter dance was back, and my heart clenched. Tears stung my eyes, and I quickly blinked them away.
For months, I had been holding fear in a corner of my soul. Fear that this would be ripped away from me. I panicked at the thought of this only being a dream and I would wake up in a cage again—back into the dark hole where I had ceased to exist, where I had only been breathing. Not living.
I cupped Lyov’s face in my hands. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“I ask myself the same question every day, Angel. Pretty ironic, isn’t it?” He laughed with a slight shake of his head.
I found myself smiling too. There was a kick between us, where our bodies were pressed together. It appeared the little one was demanding our attention again.
“There, there. It’s time for you to sleep now,” Lyov chastised gently, his palm finding its way to my round, rigid stomach again.
After a few seconds of dancing and moving around, the baby finally settled down. My eyes also started to droop, tiredness seeping its way into me.
“Alessio Lyov Ivanshov,” Lyov whispered. “A strong name for a future King.”
My lips parted, and I wanted to agree, but sleep took me under.
That night, I dreamed of a baby boy. He had blue eyes, like mine. But Lyov’s smile and nose. I dreamed of holding him. And I dreamed of Lyov holding us.
It was perfect. It felt real.
And that was how I knew…my first born would be a son.
And his name would be Alessio Lyov Ivanshov.
Chapter 19
Maria
Lyov left early this morning with Boris and Isaak. Business. Work. The Clubs. I never asked for clarification. Partly because I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want the gruesome details of that side of Lyov’s life. I knew what he did and how cruel he was in the position as the Pakhan. He built his empire of blood and the brutality that came with it. It was all dirty money.
But now he was expanding his empire. The human trafficking rings had been shut down after great difficulty. Lyov was scared that this would bring war upon our grounds. But they solved it rather peacefully after everyone realized Lyov wouldn’t budge on the matter and there was no point in fighting him. He was the Master. The ruler. The King. The game belonged to Lyov Ivanshov and only him. His words were law, and everyone bent to it.
The Royalist was no longer active. It died the night I sobbed for my Sophia in Lyov’s embrace.
Now, Lyov was investing into other means. He promised me it would be safe, and I trusted him. He was a wealthy man. Powerful beyond words. Nothing was impossible for him.
My thoughts returned to the present when I stopped in front of Lena’s door. I knocked and waited for her reply. We decided to go baby shopping today. Feeling excitement coursing through me, I waited almost impatiently, bouncing on my tippy toes.
A minute passed, and there was no response. I knocked again and called out. Leaning into the door, I pressed my ear there and tried to listen for anything on the other side. Silence.
But I knew Lena was in there because she was nowhere else.
Grabbing the handle, I twisted it around to check. It was unlocked, and the door opened. Uneasiness crept its way into my body, and my stomach twisted with a strange feeling.
I walked inside and paused on the room’s threshold.
Something wasn’t right.
The room was tidy, with bright sunlight soaking in the wide span of it. It was a deceitful look because the atmosphere in the room felt all wrong.
“Lena,” I called out.
There was another few seconds of silence. My palms grew sweaty, and I hated this feeling brewing inside of me, a silent storm fighting to break free. My stomach tightened, and my happy baby stopped moving, as if the little one could tell something was wrong too. I cradled my bump, soothing both of us.