Her sharp glare cuts to me like a double-edged sword. “What if I said I don’t want to leave my apartment?”

“Then you’d be lying, and I told you not to do that. You’ve been suffocating in there for the past couple of weeks, getting more depressed by the day because it reminds you of ballet.”

“And your house will be the magical solution?”

“Probably. It’s also better secured.” And I can leave her without obsessively watching the cameras and splitting up my guards all over the place to keep her safe.

Her lips purse as if she wants to argue more but thinks better of it. “I want my things from my apartment.”

“They will be in my house tomorrow.”

“Why can’t we go now?”

“Because we have somewhere else to be.”

A delicate frown creases her features. “We’re not going to your house?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“You need to pay respects to my Pakhan first.”

Her face pales and her throat bobs with a gentle swallow as her voice lowers. “Do I have to?”

“Yes. We already got married without his presence and we can’t forgo this step. You don’t have to talk. Just kiss his hand when he offers it—that’s all.”

“Does this mean I’ll be part of your organization now?” She sounds spooked—terrified, even—but what she doesn’t understand is that her taking this step was merely a matter of time. It would’ve happened anyway, and the sooner she accepts it, the better.

“You’re part of me, Lia. That’s all you need to worry about.”

Her lips part as if to say something, but she purses them again and stares out the window until we reach Sergei’s house.

I help her out, then lift her in my arms when she struggles with her long dress and the crutch. I expect her to fight, but she doesn’t, her tiny body remains inert against mine as I carry her inside.

Only Kolya follows us in as Sergei’s guards nod at my entering. Lia watches her surroundings like a cornered animal searching for an escape, her brow creasing deeper the farther I stride up the stairs and down the hall.

While her arms are around my neck, her attention is elsewhere. I will have to deal with her attempts to pull away from me whether in body or in mind later.

I put her to her feet a few steps away from Sergei’s office, and Kolya hands her the crutch. Before I can say anything, the door opens and Vladimir steps outside.

He pauses at the sight of us and runs his gaze over Lia in a mechanical observation. Even though there’s no other intent behind it, I’m tempted to poke his eyes out.

Lia steps into my side and I relish in the fact that she’s chosen me as protection. In her eyes, Vladimir is a bulky bearded man with a permanent scowl, who appears as if he’s ready to murder everyone in his path.

Since I’ve known him for many years, I don’t see him as a threat. However, this is Lia’s first encounter with him, and the initial impression people usually have of Vladimir is that he’s deadly, probably the most dangerous-looking among the elite.

“Is this why you asked for a meeting with Sergei?” he asks in Russian.

“Yes, but I don’t see why you should be here,” I answer in the same language.

“I came for other matters.” He stares at Lia one last time, then shakes his head and leaves.

I take Lia’s frigid hand in mine and lead her to the door. “Not a word,” I remind her before I knock.

“Come in,” Sergei says in Russian.

I push the door open and she hobbles on her crutch, following me.

We stop in the middle of Sergei’s grandiose study which was originally his brother’s, the late Pakhan, Nikolai. He hasn’t changed a thing about it, as if he’s keeping Nikolai’s memory alive through the grim decor and the countless book editions in Russian.

Sergei is sitting in the lounge area with Igor across from him. I called him over, too, because he needs to see this for himself.

After I broke off the engagement with his daughter, Igor demanded my punishment from the Pakhan, but since I’m Sergei’s ‘golden boy,’ as Kirill likes to call me, he gave me a chance to explain myself.

I prefer action over words.

Igor’s features contort with obvious displeasure as he studies Lia in her wedding dress and the bands around each of our fingers.

She remains in place, but her features pale when she recognizes him.

“I thought you didn’t know her?” Igor doesn’t hide his accusatory tone as he speaks in accented English.

Lia’s fingers stiffen in mine.

“I didn’t,” I lie. “We had a one-night stand.”

I can sense Lia peeking at me, but thankfully, she keeps her words to herself. Any misstep in front of these men and everything will be over. It doesn’t matter that I put a baby in her or married her. Any show of disrespect, and they will take that baby and kill Lia.

“How dare you?” Igor slams his glass of vodka on the coffee table.

“Kristina said it was fine if I had any mistresses at the time,” I say. “You can confirm that with her if you like.”

“So what, Volkov?” Sergei’s critical gaze slides to Lia, measuring her up like she’s a maid he doesn’t approve of. “You chose to marry your one-night stand instead of Igor’s daughter. Is this your explanation?”

I can tell when Sergei gets angry. He turns eerily calm, like right now. That’s the difference between him and Nikolai. The late Pakhan would go on a killing rampage, but his younger brother will kill you with silence.

His point is logical. Sergei is taking offense on behalf of Igor, whom he hasn’t only known for the past forty years, but is also the closest of friends with in the brotherhood.

“No,” I speak in my signature composed, even tone. “I married her because she’s expecting my heir.”

Both of their gazes flit to her stomach, as if they can see a child there and question him about his origins. The attention causes Lia to squirm, so I retrieve the envelope from my jacket and hand it to Sergei. The sooner we’re done with this, the faster I can get her out of here.

The Pakhan places his drink on the table and studies the sonogram and the doctor’s report, then sighs. “Is this truly yours?”

“Why would I even give her the time of day if it wasn’t?” Lia flinches as if I’ve slapped her across the face.