Twilight Sins: Chapter 66

I’m not the only person Yakov is ghosting. His household staff has no idea where he is, either.

“Nikandr came by early this morning,” Hope tells me just after noon. “I haven’t seen either of them since.”

I loiter outside his office door for an embarrassingly long time before I work up the nerve to knock. There’s no answer. I listen at the door, but I don’t hear any sign of movement inside.

By the time evening rolls around, I’m wondering if Yakov might’ve moved out without me noticing. I’m sure he has plenty of other houses scattered across the country and globe. Maybe he moved into one of those until he can get rid of me. That’s what he said he wanted, after all.

Our fight in the kitchen hits me all over again. My chest aches like it just happened.

As I ball myself up in my nest of blankets on the sofa, the only upside is that I’m not doing it because I’m nauseous. The medicine Dr. Mathers gave me is already helping with my morning sickness.

The downside is that I’m still just as miserable.

Mariya jumps over the arm of the couch and lands with her legs crossed, nearly squashing Gregory. He hisses and darts under the chair. “Someone is grouchy,” she remarks in his direction.

“He’s been sensitive. I think he misses Yakov.” Gregory mysteriously goes missing for hours at a time. I can’t prove it, but I think he’s slipping into Yakov’s office. Apparently, Yakov is still on speaking terms with my cat, just not with me.

“My brother is in a bromance with a cat. I never would have guessed.” She chuckles and hugs a pillow to her chest. “Speaking of, Yakov hasn’t broken down the front door demanding answers or locked you in a plastic bubble yet. I’m guessing that means he doesn’t know about the baby.”

“Or he knows and doesn’t care,” I mumble.

“Definitely not. If he knew, he’d be here.”

I know Mariya is right. Telling him I’m pregnant is a surefire way to make him talk to me. The problem is I don’t want to force him into talking to me.

“How are you feeling? Should I scrap the plans to install a permanent vomitorium?”

“I don’t feel like I’m going to hurl for the first time in three days, so I’m doing great.”

“High bar you’ve set for yourself.” Mariya smirks before her smile slides into something more cautious. “How are you feeling otherwise?”

My stomach flips in a way that has nothing at all to do with pregnancy. “I’m… not sure. It’s hard to know when I can’t talk to Yakov about any of this.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Everything. I don’t even know if he wants kids.”

“He does,” she says quickly.

I peek over my mound of blankets at her. “How do you know that?”

“Making heirs is the Bratva way.”

“‘Making heirs’?” I wince. “That makes it sound so… clinical. And that is not what Yakov and I were doing. There was no discussion about ‘heirs’ when we were… before we… Well, you get it.”

Mariya’s chin dimples sternly. “Are you saying you were using my brother for meaningless sex?” My eyes go wide and Mariya cackles. “I’m kidding. Obviously, you weren’t talking about having kids. But that doesn’t mean Yakov doesn’t want them. My brother is good at making the best of a shit situation.”

It’s my turn to glare at her. “Are you saying me being pregnant is a ‘shit situation’?”

“Well, isn’t it?” she counters.

“Touché.” I groan. “I thought finding out he wants kids would make me feel better, but now, I have to get on board with the fact that my child is going to inherit a Bratva. I don’t know if I want my child growing up in Yakov’s world. I mean, he kidnapped me and locked me up in his house. How is he going to treat a child?”

“This is definitely a lot to take in, but I can tell you that I absolutely believe Yakov is going to be an amazing dad.”

“How do you know that?” I ask.

“Because he grew up with an amazing dad.” She smiles softly. “Our dad was the best. He was strong and fucking terrifying when he needed to be, but he was also warm. Yakov idolized him.

Losing our dad changed Yakov,” Mariya continues. “I know I give him shit, but I do get it. He had to step up and be the leader of our family way earlier than he expected. It was a lot to take on. Especially after everything he went through.”

“Being there when your dad died?” I ask softly.

Mariya blows out a breath. “It was horrible, Luna. Worse than you can imagine. We were at a soccer game, surrounded by people and families. Only a monster would kill a man in front of all those kids—in front of his own children.”

There are tears in her eyes. I reach out and squeeze her hand. “Yakov hates that you saw your dad die. He beats himself up about it.”

“It wasn’t his fault.”

“You and I know that, but I don’t think he does. He thinks he should have protected you from it.”

“He tried. Nik tried, too,” she says. “But the shots went off and the only thing I could think about was getting to my dad. He was always my safe place. If I was close to him, nothing could touch me. Then I saw him on the ground, Yakov’s hands pressed to his chest. There was so much blood.”

I squeeze her hand tighter as I blink back my own tears. I can’t do anything to take any of this away, but I can be here for her.

She wipes tears off her cheeks. “I was so focused on my dad that I didn’t even realize I’d been shot until Yakov told me. It was just a graze, but⁠—”

“You must have been terrified.”

“We all were,” she says. “That day changed everything for all of us. My mom was scared of more attacks. She wanted all of us to go to Moscow, but Yakov refused and Nikandr would never go anywhere without Yakov. I was young enough that I didn’t have a choice.”

“Yakov was going through so much. He didn’t feel like he could keep you safe and take on your dad’s responsibilities at the same time.”

Mariya dips her head. “I know. But understanding that doesn’t make it any easier. The thing is, I grew up knowing that our world is dangerous. I thought we were built to get through it. Then shit hit the fan and my life imploded. I just wish I’d seen it coming.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I admit. “Yakov is so concerned with protecting us that he won’t tell us anything. How am I supposed to feel confident bringing a child into this world when I have no idea what I’m up against?”

“I’d tell you if I knew,” Mariya grumbles. “They won’t tell me anything, either.”

We sink in the cushions, both feeling sorry for ourselves. Then Mariya turns to me, her face serious.

“What?” I don’t feel great about the mischievous look on her face, but I know Mariya well enough to know that whatever just popped into her head, she’s going to do it with or without my help.

“If you really want to know what’s going on,” she says with a smirk, “I can help you find out.”