Mile High Daddy: Chapter 23

I stand frozen in the doorway, my heart pounding too fast, too hard.

I can’t think past the words still echoing in my head.

“So you hid her?”

“I didn’t want her to get hurt.”

“Let it go, Mother.”

My hands tremble at my sides, my heartbeat hammering as I stare at Mikhail. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t said a word, he’s just watching me with that unreadable expression.

But I already know the truth.

He hid my mother.

Not to control me. Not to use her against me.

But to protect her. To keep her safe from people like his mother.

The realization crashes over me too fast, too heavy, and I don’t know what to do with it. I should be angry. I should be screaming at him, telling him he had no right. But all I feel is relief.

My mother is safe. Because of him.

My breath shudders as I wrap my arms around myself, trying to steady the storm raging inside me.

Mikhail takes a step toward me, his movements slow, deliberate. “Lila⁠—”

I hold up a hand, stopping him. I don’t need him to explain. I already heard everything.

“I just…” My voice is hoarse, barely a whisper. “I need a second.”

I see a flicker of something in his gaze—something dark, something dangerous—before he nods once, stepping back.

I turn away from him, pressing a hand to my stomach, trying to quiet the whirlwind inside me. My mother is safe. Because of Mikhail.

I don’t know what to do with that.

I spent months convincing myself that he was the villain, that running was my only choice. But now… Now I’m not sure of anything.

The room feels too small, like the walls are closing in, like his presence is everywhere, pressing down on me. I walk toward the kitchen on unsteady legs, needing something—distance, air, anything to keep me from looking at him.

I reach for a glass, my fingers trembling as I fill it with water from the sink. But before I can take a sip, I feel it—the heat of his body behind me. I don’t turn around.

“You’re shaking,” he says, his voice quiet, controlled.

I grip the glass tighter. “I’m fine.”

A pause. Then—a heavy exhale.

I feel his hand hover near my lower back, not touching, but close enough that I can feel the heat of him.

“Sit down,” he says, and for once, there’s no command in his voice.

I shake my head, taking a sip of water, trying to steady myself. “I don’t need⁠—”

“Lila,” he cuts me off, his tone firmer this time.

I squeeze my eyes shut. I hate how easily he can read me. Slowly, I turn around, my back pressing against the counter as I meet his gaze.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.

“Wouldn’t have made any difference,” he says.

I let out a sharp laugh, shaking my head. “You think keeping secrets is the way to keep me here?”

“I don’t care if you hate me. I just need you to be safe.”

Just then, the doorbell rings.

I freeze, my fingers tightening around the edge of the counter. Across from me, Mikhail goes still, his body going rigid like a predator sensing something is off.

A quiet, creeping tension settles into the room, thick and unnerving.

Before I can say anything, he’s already moving.

“I’ll get it,” he says, his voice flat, unreadable.

I frown. “Who would even⁠—”

But he’s already at the door, pulling it open, his entire frame blocking the entryway like a human shield.

And then I see them.

Maggie and Alex.

Maggie’s eyes widen the second she sees me, and before I can react, she throws herself forward, her arms wrapping around me in a crushing embrace.

“Thank God you’re okay!” she breathes against my shoulder, gripping me like she’s afraid I’ll vanish again.

I stumble, caught off guard. “Maggie⁠—?”

She pulls back, her hands still gripping my arms. “Alex said you jumped out of a moving car! Are you insane?”

My stomach twists, my gaze snapping to Alex. He’s watching me, arms crossed, face unreadable.

And just like that, everything comes rushing back.

The gas station.

His conversation with Ryan.

The way Ryan knew too much about him.

The way I was so sure Alex was working with Mikhail.

But now?

Now I look at Mikhail, standing tense and unmoving in the doorway, his eyes flickering between me and Alex—cold, calculating, assessing.

But there’s no recognition.

No flicker of awareness.

No sign that Mikhail knows who Alex is.

My pulse kicks up, something dark curling in my stomach.

I was wrong.

Could I have been wrong?

Alex, on the other hand, looks…casual. Too casual.

Like he’s not standing in the doorway of a man who could snap his neck in seconds.

Like he doesn’t know who Mikhail is.

But I do.

“You’re not saying anything,” Alex says, his eyes steady on mine. “Tell me you’re okay.”

I snap back into focus. “I’m fine,” I say, though my voice doesn’t sound convincing.

Maggie huffs, shifting beside him. “Yeah, well, you didn’t look fine when you disappeared into the night like some fugitive.”

I glance at Mikhail, whose expression doesn’t change.

Because I am a fugitive, aren’t I? I ran from him, from his world. And now? Now, I’m right back in it.

“I wasn’t thinking,” I lie, forcing a small, wavering smile. “It was stupid.”

Alex’s jaw tightens, his brows drawing together like he doesn’t quite buy it. “You sure?”

I nod. “Yeah. I just…I needed time to figure things out.”

Maggie sighs. “Well, you scared the crap out of us.”

I shift uncomfortably under her stare, but before I can respond, Alex speaks again. “You staying here?” he asks, his gaze cutting to Mikhail for the first time.

The air in the room tightens, the space between them suddenly too charged. Mikhail’s head tilts slightly, his gaze cool, assessing Alex like he’s a problem he hasn’t decided how to deal with yet. “She is,” he says simply.

“What about your mom?” Maggie says.

“She’s safe,” Mikhail says.

Alex frowns. “Are you going to let her answer? And who are you anyway?”

I clear my throat, forcing my lips into something that barely passes for a smile. “Uh…Alex, Maggie—this is Mikhail.”

Mikhail takes a step forward, and with a perfectly straight face, he adds, “I’m the husband.”

Maggie chokes on absolutely nothing.

Alex’s expression tightens, his gaze cutting to me so fast I feel whiplash.

I groan internally, closing my eyes for half a second before forcing another awkward smile. “It’s…um, complicated.”

Maggie recovers first. She blinks, eyes wide. “I—sorry, what?”

“Husband,” Mikhail repeats smoothly, slipping a hand into his pocket, like this is the most natural thing in the world. “You know, marriage. Vows. Legally binding commitment.”

Maggie gapes at me, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. “When were you planning to tell me that?”

“Well,” I mutter, shifting uncomfortably, “I was going to…eventually?”

She narrows her eyes, pointing a finger at me. “This is because I made you go to that party, isn’t it? You’re getting back at me for that.”

I let out a strained laugh. “Yeah, Maggie, I totally went and got married just to teach you a lesson about dragging me to college ragers.”

Alex hasn’t spoken yet. But when I look at him, his face is tightly controlled, his jaw tense, like he’s trying to figure out what the hell he just walked into.

“You’re married,” he finally says, voice carefully neutral.

I exhale, rubbing my temples. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?” Maggie hisses. “Leah, that’s not how marriage works.”

Mikhail smirks, clearly enjoying this way too much.

I shoot him a side glare, but he just arches a brow, like this is amusing, keep going, I’m entertained.

I turn back to Maggie, ignoring his smug expression. “It’s complicated, okay?”

“Clearly!” she exclaims. “You were single two seconds ago!”

Mikhail, because he is incapable of letting things be, leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, smirking like the devil himself. “You never questioned the pregnancy?”

Maggie’s eyes flicker between us, her expression suddenly more thoughtful than surprised. “Well,” she says, dragging the word out, “I’m pretty open-minded. I figured it was a bad relationship she didn’t want to talk about.”

The air shifts.

Alex stiffens.

Maggie winces as soon as she says it, realizing too late that she’s just stepped into something she shouldn’t have.

A heavy silence settles between us, thick and uncomfortable.

Mikhail’s smirk falters, just slightly. His eyes darken, his fingers tapping once against his forearm as he watches me.

I force out a strained laugh, shifting uncomfortably. “Yeah, well. It was…complicated.”

Maggie nods quickly, clearly desperate to move past the awkwardness. “Right, yeah. Totally. Makes sense.”

Mikhail’s gaze is still locked on me, his amusement replaced by something quieter, unreadable.

I don’t like it. I need to break this tension before it swallows me whole.

“Okay,” I say, clapping my hands together. “So, um, Maggie, Alex, what brings you guys here?”

Maggie, bless her, takes the bait immediately.

“Right!” she says, perking up. “We wanted to check on you after you, you know, threw yourself from a moving vehicle like a psychopath.”

Alex, however, doesn’t let it go so easily. He’s still watching Mikhail, his expression careful, unreadable.

Maggie keeps talking. “Okay! So, now that we’ve addressed the fact that Leah has a secret husband⁠—”

“I was never a secret,” Mikhail cuts in smoothly.

I glare at him. “Could you please not?”

Maggie waves me off. “Anyway, now that we know you’re alive and, uh, married, we should go get something to eat!” She spins toward Alex, smacking his arm. “Right? We were saying we should grab food.”

Alex doesn’t respond immediately. He’s still watching Mikhail, that too-calm, too-observant expression still on his face, like he’s trying to solve a puzzle that’s right in front of him but just out of reach.

Mikhail smiles lazily, completely unbothered by it. “Sure, we could eat. Unless, of course, my wife would rather I cook for her again.”

Maggie’s head whips around so fast I swear she gets whiplash. “I’m sorry, what?”

I rub my temples, so done with this entire conversation. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Maggie gasps dramatically, clutching her chest. “Excuse me? I have literally never seen you cook. Ever. You’ve burned toast, Leah. Toast.”

Mikhail chuckles, clearly enjoying my suffering.

I groan. “It’s not a competition, Maggie.”

She narrows her eyes, glancing between Mikhail and me. “Fine. But we’re still planning the baby shower, and we need to get started.”

Mikhail, who has been leaning lazily against the doorframe, straightens slightly. “What’s that?” he asks, brows furrowing.

Maggie blinks at him like he just asked what air is.

“You know,” she says slowly, enunciating every word. “A baby shower. The big fun event where we celebrate the mom-to-be, give her presents, and pretend like newborns don’t make you question every life decision you’ve ever made?”

Mikhail looks at me now, his expression completely serious. “You didn’t tell me about this.”

I blink at him. “Because I didn’t think you’d care.”

He frowns, like the very idea is offensive. “Of course I care.”

Maggie perks up immediately, spinning back to Alex. “You see this? Now this is the kind of enthusiasm we need for the party planning committee.”

Alex sighs. “Please don’t make me part of this.”

“You’re already in too deep,” Maggie declares, pointing at him dramatically.

Mikhail’s attention remains locked on me, his gray eyes intense. “When is it?”

Maggie grins. “Soon! We were going to finalize details today. You’re totally invited, by the way.”

Mikhail tilts his head slightly. “Obviously.”

Maggie giggles, clearly charmed by him, and I rub my temples again, realizing that this is my actual life now.

My mafia husband and my best friend planning a baby shower together.

What could possibly go wrong?