It’s hard to believe that it’s been seven years since we fled Russia. The moment we hit American soil we ditched our old surnames and married under the fake name of Gurin, but we kept our first names the same. Valery and Anya Gurin. Even so, we have to be vigilant. It may have been seven years, but the rumor is my father is furious about what Valery pulled. The price for the return of both of us alive is double what it was five years ago, meaning we have to keep our secret buried as deep as possible.
Valery is pakhan of the Gurin Bratva now. It became clear the moment we arrived that there’s so much opportunity to take advantage of here in Boston. A blank canvas that Valery decided he’d mold to his image. Even if he’s met a lot of resistance from the Italians and Irish, it’s been easier to get a foothold than in Moscow.
I clear my throat. “Are you almost finished?”
He looks up at me, a sinful smirk twisting his lips. “Why? Are you missing me, malishka?”
I shake my head. “Don’t be an idiot. Mikhail is still up.”
He checks his watch. “Well, it’s past his bedtime. Get Alice to take him to bed.”
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. “Or what?”
His eyes flash. “Don’t push me. Or our son will witness his mother having her ass spanked.”
Heat coils through me as I nod in agreement and head out of the room down the corridor to find Mikhail and Alice. He is sitting at the kitchen table and chattering to her in Russian.
“It’s past your bedtime, Mikhail.”
He pushes his bottom lip out. “But I’m having fun.”
I chuckle. “There’s always time for more fun tomorrow, but sleep is important.” I glance at Alice. “Would you mind getting him bathed and into bed?”
Alice smiles. “Of course not. We’ll play games in the bath and I’ll read you a story.” She ruffles his hair.
“Only if we get to read my favorite,” Mikhail says very seriously.
“The Gruffalo?” She confirms.
He nods enthusiastically.
“Of course.” She nods at me. “Say goodnight to your mom.”
He rushes over to me and wraps his arms around me. “Goodnight, mommy.”
I kiss him on the head. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Be good for Alice.”
He grins at me. “I’m always good.”
I arch a brow, as I’ve never met a more mischievous child in my life. “What have I told you about lying?”
He chuckles. “Okay, I’m good most of the time.”
I shake my head. “Go on.” I nod toward the door and Mikhail grabs Alice’s hand and drags her out of the kitchen toward the stairs. Alice has been a godsend since I got pregnant, as Mikhail is exhausting and her help makes it easier to cope.
I return to the study to find the room empty. Frowning, I head back into the corridor, searching for my husband.
Suddenly, a hand wraps around my neck from behind and yanks me backward. I slam into the hard wall of muscle that is my husband. “Looking for me?”
I shudder at the tone of his voice. “Perhaps.”
His hand tightens around the back of my neck. “Who else would you be looking for, printessa?”
I try to turn around, but he holds me still.
“Answer me.”
“I was looking for you,” I admit.