Lia’s body falls limp in my arms, her lids closed and sweat covers her temples. I hold her small frame against me by her waist as her legs lose all strength.

Placing my arm under her knees, I lift her up as I did earlier. Her head lolls in an awkward position before it lands on my shoulder. Her lips twitch and her face turns so pale, her veins peek more visibly through her skin.

“Mommy…?”

I stare down at Jeremy, who’s holding a toy soldier and fighting back tears. He’s supposed to be in his bed this late, yet here he is. He must’ve tricked his nanny so that he could come down and meet me. He’s been doing that a lot the past few weeks, wanting to see me and throwing tantrums so I’ll pay him attention.

I know exactly why he’s acting like this. After losing his mother, he didn’t want to lose me, too. He sometimes sneaks into my bedroom merely to make sure I’m there.

“She just fell asleep, Malysh,” I say with an American accent. The Russian accent is for certain situations and the American is for others.

Being brought up by a half-American mother and a pure Russian father, the accents come naturally to me.

Jeremy, however, has spent most of his time with Lia, who only speaks English, and, therefore, he gets confused when I talk to him in Russian. While that will change in the future, I won’t force him to understand now. It’s the worst time to add to his stress.

“Your mom just fell asleep.”

“Really?” He sniffles.

“Correct.”

“But…but you said she was spending a long time on a trip. Does this mean the trip is over, Papa?”

“It is, Malysh.”

“And she’ll be here every day?” His voice breaks as hope soars in his huge eyes.

My attention slides to her motionless body before I focus back on my son. “Every day.”

“Promise, Papa?”

“Promise.”

“You always keep your word.”

“I do. She’ll see you tomorrow, all right?”

He turns his head away, huffing. “I won’t see her.”

“Are you still mad at her?”

“Aren’t you, Papa?” He sniffles and wipes his tears with the back of his hand. “She left without saying goodbye.”

“But she’s here now.”

“I still won’t see her.” He stomps up the stairs, his small body emanating more energy than a kid twice his age.

He definitely has his mother’s temper.

Still carrying Lia, I approach the entrance and I click the intercom that connects with Kolya’s radio. “Come inside and make sure Jeremy goes to sleep.”

“Yes, sir.”

I take her upstairs two steps at a time and head to the master bedroom. When I place her on the high platform bed, I allow her head to fall softly on the pillow.

She doesn’t stir as I slowly remove her shoes and put them at the foot of the bed. A few cuts cover her ankles and the soles of her feet are rough to the touch. They’re also cold, so I lay them on the bed and pull the duvet up to cover them. When I maneuver her to remove her coat, she still doesn’t show any reaction.

I hold her hands in mine and stare at the blisters that shouldn’t be on her skin. They’re freezing, too, as if her brain still thinks she’s sleeping on the streets, in dirty, cold parking garages.

Lifting her palms to my mouth, I blow on them until they’re warm enough, then slide them under the covers. I’m about to make her more comfortable when a knock sounds on the door.

I pull the duvet to her chin and take one last look at her face. “I’ll be right back, Lenochka.”

After stepping out, I slowly close the door behind me, making sure not to make a sound.

Kolya is standing in the hall, his frame blocking my view and his brow furrowed.

“Is Jeremy asleep?”

“Yes, but he was stressed.” He pauses.

“If you have something to say, say it, Kolya. I don’t have all night.”

“He seemed scared after he told me that…well, his mommy fell asleep while standing.”

At least he believes she fell asleep.

“Sir.”

“What?”

“May I speak freely?”

I raise a brow. “When haven’t you?”

“This isn’t right.”

“This?”

“All of this.” He motions with his head at the closed bedroom door. “Her here. Now.”

“Is Yan bitching to you?”

“No.”

“You don’t have to protect him, Kolya. You’re spoiling him.”

“This isn’t about Yan and you’re well aware of that.

“Let me worry about things here while you keep an eye on what’s happening in the rest of the brotherhood. We cannot be left behind.”

“We won’t, but she…”

“Stop talking about her, Kolya. It’s done. She’s here and that’s that.”

“She fainted, sir.”

“How would you know that?”

“People don’t just fall asleep standing. I’m not Jeremy.”

“She’ll be fine.”

“What if she—”

“Kolya,” I cut him off, my voice hardening. “Drop it.”

“This could backfire.”

“I said to stop fucking talking about her.”

He gives me a disapproving stare, one that says, ‘you’re fucked up and I regret being by your side for thirty years,’ but he knows not to test me in circumstances like these, so he nods and leaves.

I unbutton my shirt on my way back to my room.

This will be a long fucking night.

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