Adrian still has the best aftercare and goes out of his way to make sure I’m comfortable, but it’s more mechanical now. It used to feel as if he enjoyed taking care of me; however, now, it feels like a duty.

My form of rebellion is muffling my voice. When I did that before Jeremy’s birth, Adrian used to demand hearing it. He used to whip me and bring me to the brink of orgasms so I’d say something. Now, he seems content with my being mute.

We hardly talk, and when we do, it’s usually about Jeremy. My little angel has become the only reason I wake up every morning.

Okay. That’s a lie.

A small part of me, the part that never fell out of love with Adrian, still hopes that today will be better, today Adrian will trust me.

But I wouldn’t trust me if I were him. He knows I want to leave, and even though I haven’t attempted to escape again for fear of his wrath, Adrian isn’t an idiot. He’s well aware that if I get the chance, I’ll leave.

He stopped me from going to those charity events for months, probably thinking I’d leave, anyway. When I started having nightmares and falling back into a depressive hole a few months later, I told him I wanted to go out, and surprisingly, he didn’t fight me on it.

By going back to my charity work, I’ve been able to meet with Luca in the bathroom, but only for short intervals.

I haven’t really had any important information for him, because Adrian is a fort. The few times he’s taken me to the brotherhood’s meetings, he’s treated me as if I’m an annoying rock in his shoe. I hate the Adrian from the Bratva. That Adrian feels like a completely different person, a cold-hearted one who doesn’t give two fucks about me.

I hate the brotherhood and everyone in it, too, except for maybe Rai, who’s never treated me as if I’m a pest.

They despise me because I took Kristina Petrov’s rightful place. They think I tricked Adrian into marrying me by getting pregnant, that I’m a shameless gold digger and without any notable origins. Adrian has never negated that, and I don’t have the state of mind to defend myself when no one believes me.

Part of the reason why I continue to meet Luca is because I need some sort of a friend, someone whom I can feel like my old self again around. He knows I probably won’t give him anything, but maybe he also likes seeing me.

I don’t even think about Mom anymore. I know Luca won’t give me that information unless I completely sell out Adrian. That foolish corner in my heart rebels against that idea and it’s not just because of my stupid feelings toward him. It’s also because he’s Jeremy’s father.

My baby boy loves his father so much. When my episodes of depression hit and I can’t get out of bed, Adrian takes him outside and plays with him.

Besides, if Adrian is gone, Jeremy and I are doomed. I’ve realized over the years just how much power he holds. Not only in the brotherhood, in which everyone respects him, but also among all the other crime organizations who look at Sergei with envy for having someone like Adrian with him.

Maybe that’s why Luca’s parting words from the other day are bugging me. After we had our usual meeting in the bathroom, he was shifty, and when I asked him if there was something wrong as he was leaving, he told me, “It’s nothing you should worry about. I’ll take care of it.” Then, he was out of the window before I could ask him what ‘it’ is.

It could be because of that or the fact that I didn’t get to put Jeremy to sleep tonight, but I’ve been on edge all evening.

Adrian brought me to Mikhail Kozlov’s birthday party. It’s being held by Sergei in honor of his ‘brother’ of almost fifty years. Sergei sure likes to throw parties for those closest to him, and doesn’t hold back.

I huddle in a corner, clutching a glass of champagne in my stiff fingers. Usually, Rai keeps me company, but she climbed V Corp’s ladder and became a hotshot who doesn’t have time for me anymore.

Adrian sure as hell doesn’t stand with me, let alone talk to me, when we’re in the midst of his own people. But I guess it’s better this way. At least no one pays attention to me until it’s time to go home and hug my angel.

Gripping my flute of champagne, I stare at my watch, then sigh heavily when I see it’s only eight in the evening.

My clutch bag feels heavy in my hand because Adrian now makes me carry a gun. After the attack on the day I gave birth, he trained me to shoot, even when I told him I didn’t want to. He said what I want doesn’t matter, then made me hold a gun and shoot for weeks until I learned how to use it.

He also trained me to use some self-defense moves.

Adrian said it’s for when I need to defend myself when neither he nor his guards are there. I’ve never encountered such a situation since Yan and Boris are basically my shadows.

I hate that Adrian is forcing me to carry a weapon of destruction, but I’ve come to know that he’s stiff and unmovable on matters like these.

I might win some arguments, like not having the nanny come in every day or being able to teach Jer instead of the Russian teachers. In fact, most of the arguments I win are about Jeremy. He lets me have freedom in raising him, but other than that, he’s been guarded since that night.

As if expecting me to run again.

Not that I could with the heavy security. Besides, the thought of him taking Jeremy away gives me damn nightmares.

“If it isn’t the lovely hidden beauty?” an amused voice calls from behind me before Damien joins me. Soon after, Kirill appears out of nowhere and stands next to him.

I groan internally, even as I nod in greeting. Their company is the last thing I need. Kirill is always somehow trying to interrogate me about Adrian, and Damien seems happy to throw jabs at me.

At the beginning, I found it hard to keep up with who’s who, so I made a long-ass digital document with Ogla’s help to specify who is who in the Bratva. Surprisingly, Adrian didn’t mind and even told Ogla to assist me. But then again, he fully expects me to stay by his side, so he wouldn’t worry about me making an educational file about his organization.

“Adrian said you were sick,” Kirill muses, running his cunning gaze over me. “You look pretty good for someone who’s sick.”

“I got better,” I speak in a quiet voice, glad that Adrian lies about my health all the time so I’m not expected to attend.

Even though he does it because I embarrass him, I’m happy that I don’t have to meet these people often. When I’m with Jeremy back at home or volunteering at the shelter, I feel like I’m detached from them and their criminal activities.