Page 155 of Toxic Salvation
But as much as I want to do something about it, I don’t know what I can do. All I know is that I have to do something.
This may not be my world originally. But it is my fight now.
Ourfight.
52
KOVAN
I’m apakhan. Leader of over two hundred men who’d jump at my command without question.
But none of that means a damn thing to my infant son when he decides to have a blowout all over my chest.
“It’s been three hours since my last text to Osip,” I growl, holding Tali at arm’s length while he kicks his tiny legs and gurgles in delight. “He was supposed to give me hourly updates.”
Vesper takes the baby from my arms, wrinkling her nose. “My love, don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s hard to talk business when you smell like poop.”
I bark out a laugh. “I’ll go wash up.”
“Please do. I enjoy looking at those abs, but the fact that they’re covered in baby shit kinda ruins the fantasy.”
She stands there in a sheer nude slip that shows every curve—the swell of her breasts, her flat stomach that somehow bounced back faster than I thought possible. If I had three wishes right now, one would be for our doctor to clear Vesper for seximmediately so I could take her against every surface in this house until she screams my name.
Unfortunately, we’ve got another four weeks of this medical celibacy bullshit.
Four weeks of pure torture.
Forbothof us.
At least everything else has been perfect. I’ve spent every day with Luka, Tali, and Vesper—learning how to change diapers without getting pissed on, taking long walks with Tali strapped to my chest, watching Luka read stories to his baby brother with more patience than most adults possess. The downtime has been a luxury I never knew I wanted.
A luxury I can only afford because I’ve trusted Pavel and Osip to handle business while I’m on unofficial paternity leave.
But now, I’m starting to think they’ve taken that trust a little too literally.
The moment I step out of the shower, hair still dripping, Vesper notices my mood shift. “What’s wrong?”
“Radio silence from my lieutenants,” I reply. “That’s what’s wrong.”
“Maybe there’s nothing to report?”
“This is Ihor we’re talking about.” I grab my phone from the nightstand. “The man doesn’t know how to lie low. Yana told him about the baby—I guarantee it. And it wouldn’t take much digging to figure out you’re on maternity leave.”
“You think they’re hiding something from you?”
My phone finally pings with a text from Osip, as if summoned by our conversation.
OSIP:Hey brother, we’re handling things. No concrete intel to share.
I hold up the screen. “See? Same vague bullshit he’s been sending all week. Pavel, too.”
“Maybe there really is nothing happening.”
“Then why haven’t we seen them? When’s the last time either of them came by for dinner? Or just to check on the baby?” I yank a shirt over my head. “Something’s up. And I’m about to find out what.”
Vesper settles into the armchair by the window and lifts her shirt to feed Tali. Watching her nurse our son never gets old.
“I’ll be back tonight,” I tell her, kneeling beside the chair to stroke her arm. “If you need anything?—”
