Adrian remains in his element, assembling a few pieces together. “Jeremy needed to come here sooner or later.”

“Any particular reason?”

“He’s Russian and needs more contact with his roots.” He turns Jeremy to face him. “Malysh, this is where your grandfather and ancestors were born. We come from Yaroslavl and have many generations. You’re the last member.”

Our son’s eyes widen. “I am?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Thank you, Papa.”

“He’s American-born,” I say.

“Doesn’t make him American.”

I roll my eyes but choose to probe instead of focusing on that. “Is that what your parents did to you, too?”

“Did what?”

“Bring you to Russia.”

His movements falter on a Lego piece and then he snaps it in place. “My father often brought me here, especially for Christmas.”

“How about your mother?”

“Not before she married my father.”

“Did you…come here with your stepmother?”

He nods once and I can see the shadow that darkens his expression whenever his past is brought up. “Remember when you asked me what the map of Russia tattoo means?”

I nod frantically. “You said it’s because of a vacation you were never able to have.”

“Yes. I was supposed to come here with Aunt Annika, but she passed away before I had the chance.”

“Is that why you brought us here?”

“Probably.” The word is quiet, low, as if it weighs on him.

I wrap my arm around his bicep and lean my head against the hard ridge of his muscles. “We’d never leave you, Adrian.”

He stares down at me with molten gray eyes. “Really?”

“I promise,” I murmur, then brush a quick kiss on his cheek.

Just when I pull back, he captures my lips in a slow, all-consuming kiss that steals my breath and apparently my logic, because for a brief second, I forget Jeremy is there.

I place a hand on his chest and push him away. He releases my lips with a low growl.

Jeremy stares at us with a grin, and even as my cheeks burn, I can’t help but grin back.

Because this moment? This peace? It feels like the beginning of our happiness.

If only the ghosts from the past don’t catch up to us.

18

Lia

Our vacation is surprisingly…warm.

Despite the freezing weather and the ice storms, the days we spend in the Russian countryside are so full of fire. And strangely, that isn’t entirely due to the lash of Adrian’s punishments at night or how he lights my body on fire every chance he gets.

It’s the fact that we’re spending uninterrupted time together and with our son. The fact that no work is keeping him from us. The fact that we built a snowman together before Jeremy and I ganged up on Adrian in a snowball fight.

We lost, by the way, and it was the best loss I’ve ever experienced. Jer and I ended up laughing until we snorted as Adrian buried us under his merciless snowballs.

I love seeing my husband carefree, without the endless weight that’s usually furrowing his features or making him overanalyze everything.

Ever since we stepped foot in Russia a week ago, he seems to have left all his burdens back in the States and is giving me the one thing I’ve always wanted—him.

I often fantasized about stealing him away from his work and demanding that he choose me over his endless Bratva responsibilities. But I’ve stopped due to my stupid pride.

And fear.

I was too afraid of Adrian’s nature to ever embrace him fully.

In truth, I still am.

I don’t think I will ever not be scared of him. There will always be that slight tinge of terror about how dangerous he is and how monstrous he can get to ensure his goals are met. However, I’m strong and mature enough to ignore that fear and focus on what he is.

Who he is.

The man who showed me a different world, one where I’m cared for and I come before anything else.

The man who fought for me when I didn’t have the will to fight for myself.

The man who saved me, even when he tortured me. Who took my hand when I thought there was no hope left for me.

The man who gave me the most precious gift in the form of Jeremy and nurtured him with me. He provided me light, even when he himself was always used to the darkness.

And to have him all to myself these last couple of days has been more exhilarating than anything I’ve experienced in recent memory.

I know he keeps himself updated by talking to his guards, especially Kolya, in hushed tones, but he doesn’t let it occupy his days and nights.

Jeremy and I do.

We have movie nights and lazy mornings. We cook together and mess up the kitchen before Adrian shoos me away so he can clean it. We take walks together whenever it’s not snowing hard, and Adrian is even teaching Jeremy how to ski.

At night, after we put our son to sleep, Adrian worships my body or makes up some sort of punishment just so he can satisfy his sadistic tendencies—and my masochistic ones.

But today, there’s a change of plans.

After Jeremy is in bed, I invite the guards over so we can play Scrabble. Something that Adrian isn’t very happy about, and he says that there’s no way in hell all the guards will come over and we’ll stay unprotected.

So Yan shoos the two younger guards outside, filling their hands with snacks.

I expect Kolya and Boris to scold him, but they just sit on the sofa across from me and Adrian. After Yan finishes his mission of getting rid of the younger guards, he settles on the chair on my right.

Tightening the wool scarf that’s draped over my shoulders, I angle my neck to soak in the warmth from the fireplace. Although the house is fully heated, I feel like a kitten in the cozy setting.

I prepared countless snacks and placed a case of beer on the table beside the Scrabble board Jeremy found in his exploration of the house.

Adrian loops an arm around my shoulder, his fingers digging into my skin. It’s not strong enough to hurt, but it’s firm enough to imply he’s not pleased with my idea of spending the evening playing with his guards.

His lips brush against the shell of my ear as he whispers in hot words, “Tell them you’re feeling unwell and go up to the bedroom. Now.”

“No,” I hiss.

“If you don’t, I’ll whip you hard, then fuck you just as hard so that you won’t be able to move tomorrow.”

“It’d be worth it,” I murmur, even as my core throbs at the promise.

It’s official. Adrian has ruined me beyond repair.

“I feel bad for them,” I tell Yan, who opens a bottle of beer and drinks from it, releasing a sigh of contentment. Kolya and Boris are dressed in army fatigues and Adrian is in his formal attire, but my friend is wearing a casual shirt and pants with a jacket.

I’m just glad he’s well enough to move and even drink now. I also saw him running with Adrian and the guards during their morning workouts. And yeah, these crazy people actually run in the snow when it’s below zero degrees.

“They’ll survive.” Yan throws up a dismissive hand. “The cold will make men out of them. They’re lucky they weren’t in the Special Forces.”