Page 39 of Bound By the Bratva

"No. We’re leaving." I adjust my hold on Nikolai, shielding him with my body. The wind bites against my skin again, but I don’t move.

Rolan glares at me without blinking as he steps forward and wraps his arms around my boy. "You want to go? Go. But he stays." I hear the gates hum behind me as Rolan attempts to pull Nikolai from my grasp.

"No," I whimper, holding Nikolai tighter. His small body shifts against me, murmuring in his sleep. I press my cheek to the top of his head. "Please… he’s not your hostage." My voice comes out rough, and I speak through clenched teeth as tears well up.

"He’s my heir." Rolan squares his shoulders as he pulls harder, wrenching my son from my arms. Nikolai stirs as I sob loudly.

"He’s a child." My knees nearly buckle as Rolan steps away and Nikolai wraps his stubby arms around his neck.

"He’s my child." He lifts his hand and gestures, and one guard steps forward. The others shift like they’re waiting for a signal. I glance at them and whip around, defending my back.

"Don’t you fucking touch me," I snap, stepping away with my eyes still on Nikolai. My heart is hammering and the men are advancing.

They don’t grab me, but they don’t stop, either. One reaches out, murmuring soft reassurances to the boy. Two more guards close in behind. It's like they are going to tear me limb from limb if I don't leave now.

Nikolai shifts again, lets out a soft sound, but stays asleep. His breath puffs out in clouds of crystalized air as I cover my mouth and stand closer to the man I'm starting to hate more than anything.

"You said you wanted to go," he says. His voice is calm, and he doesn’t acknowledge the fury he just unleashed. "You're free to go. But he stays with me."

I glare at him, shaking so hard I think I might fall apart. "You don’t get to use him like this." My hands curl uselessly. My breath catches in my chest.

"I’m not using him. I’m keeping him safe. You’re free to leave, Anya. Any time you want." He turns and walks away, ending the conversation, and I lunge, reaching for my son. Theguards pull me back before I touch him. My fingers claw at the air.

"You bastard." The words tear from my throat, raw and helpless. I want them to hurt him, but he doesn’t even turn around. My words won't ever touch his heart. It's made of coal, black as night, potent as rattlesnake venom.

Rolan doesn’t look back. Nikolai stays cradled in his arms as he disappears into the house and the door closes behind him.

I scream. I struggle. I use every ounce of strength I have, but it doesn’t matter. No one is coming to help. No one can intervene. The only command higher than mine is Rolan's, and he gave it without even uttering a word.

"Let me go, you sick fucks." My hand lashes out and swings, snagging one of them in the face, but as soon as my command is given, they let me go.

I will not leave without my son, but I can't get him back from Rolan tonight. The best I can hope for is to lie in bed holding him and pray that God gives me a pathway through the wilderness by parting the waters for me the way he did the Israelites in the Red Sea.

If a miracle doesn't happen, Nikolai will be lost to the world of crime forever.

20

ROLAN

It’s been a week since Anya tried to take my son and run. Since she walked out onto my driveway with my son in her arms and dared me to stop her. She hasn’t tried again, but I'm not foolish enough to think she won't try again the instant I let my guard down.

This morning, she walks the estate like a ghost with unfinished business, passing guards who know better than to speak to her. I let her pace the perimeter every morning without interruption to burn off what’s left of her fight, but it hasn't translated to her returning to my bed yet.

The feed from the outer garden plays across the security monitor, blurred slightly in the early light. Anya moves slowly along the gravel path with her arms locked around herself and her posture rigid. She might believe it calms her, but all I see is a woman with rage issues and no way to let go.

I could help her with that if she asked, but I don’t go to her. Nothing I offer now will mean anything to her. I know that. I've taken her freedom and reduced it to nothing, and she hates me for it.

Stepan waits behind me, tablet in hand as I watch her pacing, but he's not foolish enough to interrupt my thoughts until I look up at him. "Zharovs have gone quiet," he tells me cautiously. I've already bitten his head off once this week for distracting me from my thoughts. I didn't mean to crush her. I just needed her to understand what is safe.

He shifts his weight as he speaks, watching my face for any sign of reaction because he’s not sure how I’ll take it. I keep my eyes on the screen. "Define quiet." The last time things went "quiet", we had one of the barns at the track burned to the ground in a turf war we eventually won, but it cost us dearly.

His expression tells me he knows this isn’t good news. "There’s been no traffic, no chatter, and none of their usual warehouse check-ins," he replies. His fingers move quickly as he scrolls through the data. "They've gone completely dark, Boss. Just look at it."

He drags up satellite images and flips through timestamps. Their properties haven’t changed, but we both know silence can be louder than movement.

I sit back in the chair and glance over the top of the monitor. "Then they’re planning something," I say as my mind shifts to the inevitable. They discovered I have a son and they thought they could leverage that the way Pyotr did—the parasite. Who the fuck even knows where he is or what rock he crawled under after starting this war? Now that they can't get to Nikolai, they're looking for a different way in.

I tap one finger against the armrest while considering how fast this could unravel. Waiting always costs more than acting first, but without knowledge of what they're doing, acting first will seem like instigation or escalation. Neither of which is my desire. I just want Nikolai safe and my business protected.

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