Page 118 of Scarlet Thorns
“What the fuck, Osip? What’s the story?” Melor leans forward, suddenly interested. “You finally decided to sample the help?”
“It’s not—” I start, then stop. How do I explain this without sounding like a completemudak? “It’s complicated.”
“Complicated how?” Radimir presses. “Either you’re fucking her or you’re not. How else do you make a baby?”
The alcohol burns through my reservations. Before I can stop myself, the truth spills out.
“Her name is Ilona Shiradze.”
Both my brothers go statue-still, their faces cycling through confusion, recognition, and finally, horror.
“Shiradze’s daughter?” Melor chokes out. “Living in your house and having your baby? Are you fucking insane, Osip?”
“Keep your voice down,mudak,” I snap, glancing toward the hallway. The last thing I need is for Ilona to overhear this conversation.
Radimir leans back against the couch and lets out a long, slow breath, staring up at the ceiling like he’s asking God for patience.
“Actually,” he says without looking at us, “it’s the perfect cover-up. Who’d suspect you’d keep her this close?”
“That’s not why she’s here,” I growl, but even as I say it, I know how fucked-up it sounds.
“No?” Melor stands up, all six feet four inches of barely contained violence. “Then tell me, brother. Why is the daughter of our dead business partner— who betrayed us, who you killed— in your house? In your bed? Having your child?”
“Because,” I say finally, “I’m paying her to carry my baby.”
They stare at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“What the fuck, Osip?” Melor explodes. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? This is sheer insanity! Does she know that you killed her father?”
“Nyet!”I’m on my feet before I realize I’ve moved, my chair scraping against the floor. “And if either of youpizdyever mention anything about that to her, I’ll rip your fucking tongues out and shove them up your asses!”
The threat hangs in the air between us, real and violent and final. My brothers know I don’t make empty promises.
“I lost Galina,” I continue. “My child. I didn’t think I’d ever be a father after that. But Ilona Shiradze will give me that gift. She’s a good person and a perfect surrogate mother.”
Even as I say it, guilt gnaws at my insides. Deep down, I know it’s not as simple as I’m trying to make it sound. I did kill her father. Put a knife in his chest and watched him bleed out.And what’s worse— what makes me want to put my fist through the wall— is that I’m starting to have feelings for her. Real feelings. The kind that make a man weak.
She can never know the truth about how her father died. Never.
“What about Anett?” Radimir asks quietly. “Why not her?”
“Anett’s out of my life.” The words come out clipped, final.
Radimir finally looks up from his contemplation of the ceiling. “Right. Congratulations,bratishka. You’re fucking the daughter of someone you killed and she’s having your child. Perfect fucking storm.”
Melor pours himself another vodka, the bottle clinking against the glass in the heavy silence. “Men’s dicks make them stupid,” he says conversationally. “Stupid men make mistakes. Mistakes get you killed.”
“Or they save you,” I add quietly.
Blyad.
This is why I need my brothers, even when they’re being dickheads. They’re two of the few people who aren’t afraid to challenge me, to tell me when I’m being an idiot. Melor keeps me sane. Radimir keeps me rational.
But they’re wrong about Ilona. What they’ll never understand— what theycan’tunderstand— is the effect she has on me. What she means to me.
And that terrifies me more than any bullet ever could.
Chapter Forty-Seven
