Page 37 of Born into Chaos

I hide my grin and check the hall as soon as the doors open. When I see that it’s clear, I motion for Sveta to follow me out. The anxious feeling I have doesn’t go away until we’re inside my apartment again and I see Samantha’s small body, her chest rising and falling as she continues to sleep.

“I need to start loading the SUV.” I look around at everything I’d put together to take with us. “This is going to take a few trips. Don’t leave this apartment for anything,” I warn her.

She pushes her suitcase towards me. “Don’t forget that one.”

Svetlana is the kind of woman who requires a spanking every now and then, and she’s long overdue. Ignoring the urge to put her over my knee, I start filling my arms with bags and get to work while she makes herself at home on my couch.

It takes several trips to load everything up, and by the time I’m done, Samantha is awake. Her big, brown eyes take everything in as Sveta feeds her one more bottle and then we do a quick diaper change. I buckle her in her car seat and tuck a pink, fluffy blanket around her so she won’t get cold. Glancing around one last time, I make sure I haven’t forgotten anything and then turn to Sveta.

“Is Niki going to clear the footage from today?”

“Yeah, he’s making sure it’s all gone. Come on, we need to leave before my dad does.”

Knowing she’s right and that the last thing I want is to run into her dad in the parking garage while I’m buckling a newborn into the SUV, I grab the handle of Samantha’s car seat and leave the apartment. It’s a tense elevator ride, but when the doors open and Vitaly’s not standing there waiting for us, we both let out a relieved sigh and hustle to the vehicle.

While Sveta gets in the front, I attach the car seat to the base I’d just put in a few minutes ago. She’s facing backwards, but I pull down the canopy so we can see the top of her head. Stroking her cheek withmy finger, I start her music up and tuck the blanket around her before getting in the front.

“You sure you just found her?” Sveta teases. “You’re a pro at this daddy stuff.”

She laughs at the look I give her. “Jesus Christ, Sveta, don’t say shit like that.”

“Just sayin’.” She shrugs and gives another laugh.

I start the motor and try to forget that she just said the D word. I’m not sure what’s going on with Samantha, but I’m not ready to start throwing that word around.

“We’re going to need to stop and buy some groceries,” I tell her, changing the subject. “She’s also going to need more diapers and formula.”

“Yeah, she will,” Sveta agrees. “That girl can go through it.”

“I want to wait until we’re almost out of the city. Less chance of anyone seeing us.”

“Agreed.” She throws her foot up on the dashboard and leans back in her seat. I’d usually say something about her damn boot, but I’m fully aware that she’s kind of saving my ass right now, and I can’t bring myself to complain. She turns her face and gives me a smug grin.

“I’m not forcing you to help,” I remind her.

“No, but I’m doing it anyway, and that means you can’t get upset about stupid stuff like me putting my foot up.”

I glance over at her. “You sure about that?”

I see the big smile she gives before I look back at the road. “Yes, I am.”

My response is my usual grunt, which just makes her give another laugh. I ignore her and focus on driving. Traffic is its usual big-city nightmare, and I’m very aware that I’m responsible for the tiny baby’s life in the back. I scan the vehicles around us, always checking to see if we’re being followed, because despite all the radical changes going on, I’m still Sveta’s bodyguard, and my job is to keep her safe.

When we get to the outskirts of the city, I see a big grocery store and pull into the parking lot. We’re past the Bratva’s territory, and weshould be fine, but I still make us wait in the car for a few minutes, making sure that no one looks familiar or suspicious. Sveta finally lets out an annoyed huff.

“Seriously, Vitya, we’re safe, and no one in my family is going to drive all the way out here to get milk.”

I look over at her. “Keep your ass glued to mine.”

She salutes me and says, “Yes, sir. Now, come on, I’m hungry.”

The things I put up with. I shake my head and get out, reaching in to grab Samantha’s car seat before we head inside. Thanks to a video I watched, I know how to attach the seat to the shopping cart, and when Sveta gives me an impressed smile, I try not to gloat.

“Let’s hit the baby aisle first, and then we can grab the food we need,” I tell her.

She doesn’t argue, just walks next to me as I push the cart and Samantha looks around at her strange surroundings. We fill the cart with enough diapers and formula to last a week and then go in search of groceries. Sveta immediately starts loading up on as much sugary, processed food she can find. When she tries to throw in yet another box of brownies, I take it and toss it back onto the shelf.

“Hey, those are good,” she argues, but when she tries to grab them again, I grab her arm and pull her along after me.

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