Page 60 of Married to the Don (Kornilov Bratva Duet 1)

“I was at the concert to celebrate my last few weeks at home. I was ready to go off to college and get a degree and start my life.” She shakes her head as though the idea was idiotic. A pipe dream. “Then, a man kept bothering me. He was drunk and an asshole.”

Fedor.

“And then Fedor arrived,” she finishes, surprising me. “He pretended to be my boyfriend to frighten the guy away. He was … nice.”

My eyes flick to the floor, alarmed by the similarities between me and my baby brother. Now, to protect her from Fedor, I want to pretend to be her husband. We’ve come full circle.

“I thought he was handsome and a gentleman, so when he offered to buy me a shot, I accepted. I didn’t know he’d put anything in it.”

“Molly,” I say, changing my mind. I don’t want to hear any more. I don’t want to know what happened. “You don’t have to—”

“I don’t remember much after that,” she continues. “Which I’m grateful for sometimes. Other times, I wonder what happened. I remember being placed in the passenger seat of a car. I remember hands under my knees, carrying me upstairs. I thought maybe someone was taking me home, but it’s all a blur until the next morning. I woke up. Naked and uncovered. Fedor was still asleep next to me. Passed out, I guess, because he never stirred as I got dressed and left. That was only the second time I’d ever had sex.”

My hands clench so hard my knuckles turn white, and I feel sick.

“I found out I was pregnant a few days before I was supposed to leave. I contemplated getting an abortion and going anyway. I wanted to forget it had all happened. But I couldn’t. I don’t know why. So, I dropped out. Then my parents kicked me out of the house when they found out, and I’ve been surviving on my own ever since.”

“I’m sorry.” The words are tense and tight, and I hate having to say them, but I can’t think of anything else to say. “I didn’t mean that.”

She nods, acknowledging that she hears me, but doesn’t respond. Doesn’t accept my apology.

“My life was stolen from me that night, and I’ve spent years trying desperately to get back to it. To find a way to create a home for Theo. Stability.” Her eyes go glassy, a tear escaping the corner of her eye, and I want to reach out and brush it away. “When Theo was born, I almost left him at a fire station, hoping someone would adopt him and love him, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go through with it. Keeping him was my choice and raising him was my choice. I didn’t get to make the choice to have sex, but I knew I could make the choices after that. I have, and no matter what you want, I will continue to make my own choices.”

“It is your choice, Molly. I’m asking you to marry me, and you can choose to do that and protect yourself and Theo or—”

“Not,” she finishes. “I know my options, and I choose not.”

I let out a sharp breath through my nose.

This is all Fedor’s fault. I knew that before, but I see the full scope of the damage he caused for the first time. Not only did he change Molly’s life; he changed her view of the world. He took an eighteen-year-old, innocent girl, and made her calloused. He made her untrusting. Even now, as I’m extending a path to a better life for her, she can’t take it.

For the first time, I truly want to kill Fedor. For what he did to Molly and Theo. He deserves the punishment. Just as much as any other Bratva member I’ve executed for similar crimes.

“And since we are clearly an inconvenience for you,” Molly says, standing up and smoothing her hands down her jeans. “We’ll leave now. Tell Fedor what you want about Theo. I don’t care. Tell him the truth, even. I plan to be long gone before he starts looking for us.”

She’s walking towards the door, and faced with the reality that she’s going to turn her back on me and take Theo and leave, I snap.

“You are welcome to go back to your old life living on the streets and begging for food, but you won’t be taking Theo with you.”

Molly spins around, the emotion in her eyes hardening to ice, sharp and clear. “He’s my son.”

“For now,” I nod. “Like I said, one DNA test is all it will take.”

“I’ll tell the police he assaulted me,” she counters. “My statement is already on file.”

“Fedor will kill you for it. And if he doesn’t, I have enough money to bribe every officer in the fucking city. Care to wager who will win that legal battle?”

She swallows and narrows her eyes at me.

“I’ll prove that I’m his uncle and that you are an unfit mother.”

The words feel like daggers leaving my lips, and they hit their mark. Molly flinches, and then before I can read anything else in her expression, she turns on her heel and walks away, slamming the door behind her.

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