Heart of My Monster: A Dark Mafia Romance (Monster Trilogy Book 3)
Heart of My Monster: Chapter 22

“What are we doing here?” My gaze follows the patterns of the carpet in the waiting area of the in-house clinic.

Kirill brought me here first thing this morning after he kicked out Yulia. He told me about her posing a danger to Kristina’s pregnancy and that even Konstantin agreed to this.

It was so much drama. She refused to leave, and when Kirill ordered Viktor to remove her by force, she went ballistic. Since she couldn’t possibly hurt Kirill, she turned her malicious energy to Karina and tried to slap her.

Before anyone could stop her, I stood in front of a trembling Karina and pushed the woman away.

She’s now packing her things after Konstantin talked her out of whatever toxic plans she had.

I’m still uncomfortable with the exchange that took place this morning. I can almost see her venomous eyes glaring me down as if she wants me dead.

Today, I’d planned to spend time reading pregnancy books with Kristina—only from an e-reader, though, since I can’t be so obvious.

The most pressing question is—how long can I fool Kirill? Even though we’ve been fucking all the time, I try not to get completely naked. I’m scared he’ll notice how slightly bigger my breasts are or the bump in my stomach. It’s actually not as noticeable as Kristina’s and can be chalked up to gaining weight, but it’ll probably grow bigger.

And while I try to distract him so he doesn’t focus on my body for too long, that can’t last forever.

Kirill isn’t an idiot. He already senses that something is wrong. If I don’t tell him, he’ll eventually figure it out himself.

A part of me wants to say it. I even stopped myself from blurting it all out last night.

But the other part realizes that if I take this step, there’s no going back.

I’ll just be trapped in Kirill’s web with no way out and I’m not sure that’s where I want to be.

Especially since I’ve been trying to contact my uncle and haven’t been able to get through. The situation is muddied at best, and I’m at a crossroads where nothing makes sense.

Nothing but the baby.

I’ve been surprisingly elated since I found out about him. He’s the only thing I want with everything in me. The rest is blurry.

Okay, that’s a lie. I want Kirill, too. I want him to the point of madness, and I don’t only mean physically. I want his heart. I want to be so far inside him, he won’t be able to replace me.

But the wound is so raw; I don’t think I can ever throw caution to the wind this time.

Even when I was secretly happy when he introduced me to everyone as his wife.

And I don’t only mean his family, members of his staff, and the leaders of the brotherhood, but also his entire social circle.

He took me around the room with his hand on my lower back, saying, “Have you met my beautiful wife? She’s Russian.”

Yes, all the small talk was tiresome and I’m pretty sure he did it so everyone would know that I’m his and, therefore, off-limits, but I enjoyed every second of it.

Probably because I never dreamed that I’d be on his arm as a woman.

No, not on his arm.

His wife.

The only wife he’ll ever have.

“Kirill?” I step in front of him, so he stops walking.

He’s been ignoring my questions since we left the house. His expression is closed off, his eyes are more intense than those of an arctic wolf, and his jaw is set.

I touch the lapel of his jacket, taking in the hint of tattoos peeking through the top open buttons of his shirt.

Although I woke up with his cock sliding inside me, and he fucked me senseless just this morning, I can’t seem to get enough of him.

My sex drive matches his—if not more. I could blame the hormones, but then again, there has never been a day when I didn’t want Kirill Morozov.

Even during the time I planned to kill him.

“What’s going on?” I ask in a careful tone.

I hate it when he deliberately closes himself off from me.

“You’ll replace out soon enough.” He takes my hand in his and basically drags me into one of the rooms.

The nurse and doctor are waiting while carrying a tray with some equipment on it.

“You can get started,” he tells them and applies pressure on my shoulder so that I sit down on the bed.

“Get started on…what?”

Shit.

Don’t tell me he already found out I’m pregnant? And if he did, what is he getting started on?

Kirill looms over me, his shoulders appearing wider and more frightening. “The doctor will now put a tracker in your arm. It shouldn’t take long.”

My lips part. “W-what?”

“You heard me just fine, Sasha.”

“Yes, I did, but I’m trying to figure out if you’re joking.”

“I never joke.”

“You already track my damn phone. Why would you need this as well?”

“Because your phone isn’t reliable when it’s turned off or when you lose it intentionally or unintentionally.”

“So you’re putting a tracker in me? Just like that?”

“It’s the only option to ensure your safety.”

I stand up and jam a finger in his chest. “More like, the only option for you to monitor me. I’m not doing this.”

I start to move past him, but he grabs my arms and sits me back down so fast, dizziness assaults me.

He lowers himself so that his cold eyes are level with mine. “Don’t be difficult.”

“Difficult? So I’m the one who’s being difficult in this?”

“You have a tendency to disappear, so this is the best solution to make sure you’re safe.”

“Don’t do this,” I whisper gently. “This isn’t how you make me your partner, Kirill.”

“I can’t make you my fucking partner when you’re thinking about running off.” He looks back at the doctor and nurse, who have been watching the show silently. “Do it.”

I start to fight, kicking and clawing at his arm, but he pins me down on the bed with brute strength. His knees are on either side of my thighs, keeping them in place, and he imprisons my wrists above my head on the bed.

I have to loosen my muscles so he doesn’t crush my belly or something.

He hovers above me and releases a hand, but he keeps my shoulder flat and immobile on the bed.

The nurse disinfects my upper arm. The coldness of the alcohol isn’t even uncomfortable, but moisture gathers in my eyes.

I stare at him through my blurry vision, then whisper, “I hate you.”

“You can hate me all you like as long as you’re safe.”

“The one person I need to be safe from is you, asshole.”

“Get it all off your chest,” he says in a nearly sarcastic voice.

“I’m going to remove this the moment we’re divorced in a few weeks.”

He doesn’t like that. In fact, he dislikes it so much that I feel the weight of his negative emotions squashing my chest.

Good. I said it to hurt him as much as he’s hurting me.

I expect him to say that won’t happen or that I’m dreaming, but he says nothing and leaves me at the mercy of his darkness.

The prick of whatever the doctor is doing doesn’t hurt. The fact that Kirill is subjugating me to this does.

I glare up at him. “How would you feel if the roles were reversed and I forced you to do this?”

“I’d do it.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“If you want a tracker on me, I’ll get one this instant, Sasha.”

“Then do it. Let’s see how you feel when I monitor your every move.”

A second passes.

Two.

On the third, he lifts himself off me and sits on the foot of the bed. Then, he announces, “Put another tracker in me.”

The nurse is finishing with my arm, but I can’t focus on her as the doctor heads to the closet and then returns with another tray.

Kirill removes his jacket and unbuttons his shirt with meticulous, calm movements before he bares his left arm.

Once the nurse is done, I slowly sit up and settle beside him. “You’re really doing this?”

“If it makes you feel better that we’re on the same page, I don’t mind.”

I prefer that neither of us gets a tracker, but since that’s not possible, this puts some form of a balm on the wound.

There’s still the tiny fact that he’s doing it willingly, and I don’t have to hold him down for it.

If I weren’t scared about the baby’s safety, I would wrestle the asshole and pin him down.

The doctor finishes with him in record time and then says Viktor should be able to have it activated.

I leave the clinic first, my shoulders drooped and my steps forced.

Kirill catches up to me and wraps an arm around my waist. I try to push it away. “Don’t touch me.”

“Why wouldn’t I touch my wife?”

“I don’t know, maybe due to the fact that I want to claw your eyes out right now?”

“How will I look at you if you do that?”

I roll my eyes and focus on the horizon. “This is the last time you force me into anything. Do something like this again, and I’ll disappear to where you’ll never replace me, even if I have to cut my damn arm off for it.”

His fingers sink into my hip, bruising me. “I wouldn’t have to do this if you didn’t think about nonsense like that.”

“Maybe I’m thinking about it because of your actions.” I shoot him a glare. “I won’t tolerate it if you don’t see me as an equal or value my opinion. I mean it, Kirill. I stomped on my feelings for you when I left for Russia, and I can do it again in a heartbeat.”

A slow smirk tilts his lips. “So you have feelings for me.”

“Seriously? That’s all you took from what I said?”

“Isn’t that the highlight?”

“You know what? Forget it. We’re just going down a closed path.”

“So feelings are a closed path now?”

“When I’m mad at you, yes, they are.”

We pause in front of the house, where a dozen suitcases are being loaded into the back of a van. Kirill only stopped because I did. He’s so distant from the situation that he doesn’t spare the car or the staff any attention.

I wonder if he always wanted to do this but kept Yulia around for his brother’s sake. Now that Konstantin is wary of her, Kirill probably figured it was time for her to go.

He probably let her live in the house in a ‘keep your enemies closer’ way, but he’s the Pakhan with stakes in the bank her family owns now, so he doesn’t need to do that anymore.

When we go into the house, a palpable tension lingers in the air. Karina stands by the stairs, hugging one of the railings for dear life.

Kristina grabs her by the shoulder, fingers stroking it with comfort. Yulia gets into Konstantin’s space, and while she looks as elegant as usual in her knee-length dress and with her styled hair, a destructive energy emanates from her.

“You, of all people, can’t do this to me, Kosta. If I’m leaving, you’re coming with me.”

“He’s a grown married man, Yulia.” Kirill strolls inside with me in tow. “Get the fuck over it already.”

She swings around, her venom instantly directed at him. “I should’ve known you were the one who planted this nonsense in his head, you damn devil.”

“What can I say?” He grins, even though his expression is closed off. “I’m a better influence than you.”

“It’s not like that, Mother.” Konstantin tries to salvage the situation, but I think it’s too late.

“Let her believe whatever the fuck she wants.” Kirill stares down at her. “Konstantin isn’t your flashy toy or a pet you tell what to do or want. Let him go, or I’ll make you. Believe me when I say you won’t like the second option.”

“If you think you can take my son from me—”

“I’m not taking anyone. He’s choosing to stay here of his own accord because I actually respect him as an individual. Something you’ve never done—”

She raises her hand to him, but I’m already capturing and twisting it, then throwing it back. “I told you not to do that again.”

Yulia snarls at me, then at Kirill, “I should’ve killed you and your demon sister when I had the chance. I should’ve ended your miserable lives before you were born.”

A hiccup comes from the other side of the room, and Karina shakes in Kristina’s hold. She was always the emotionally weak one out of the three of them and seems to have never gotten used to her mother’s treatment.

“Mother, stop.” Konstantin hauls her back with surprising force, his voice rising on her for the first time. “Stop. Just stop it already!”

Her lips part. “Kosta, what are you—”

“I’m done trying to replace excuses for you, done being hated by my own brother and sister because they think I abandoned them all those years ago.” He stares at Kirill and Karina. “Mother said she’d send boats for you, too, if I went out of there first. Whenever I tried to explain that afterward, she’d threaten that she’d plot against Kirill’s next training mission or she’d have Kara sent to boarding school. The only way for me to keep you safe was to pretend I couldn’t care less about you anymore. Like you did when you tried to protect us from Papa, Kirill.”

My husband’s lips purse, and his whole wrath zooms in on Yulia.

But it’s Konstantin who goes on, “I never liked your suffocating care, Mother. I always felt like I had to walk on eggshells around you and had to meet your grandiose expectations. I started hating you when I realized you hated my siblings and didn’t hesitate to hurt them. I hated you more when you tried to make me loathe them as well. But do you know what the tipping point was? It was you trying to hurt my wife and child. That’s something I’ll never forgive you for.”

Yulia’s chin trembles, but she holds her head high. “I only want the best for you.”

“We’re your children, too,” Karina says in a small, brittle voice. “Why can’t you want the best for us?”

“Because your fucking father raped me!” she screams and turns to Kirill. “You’re the reason behind everything, you fucking devil. Roman wanted me and couldn’t have me, so he raped me over and over and fucking over again until I was pregnant with you. He made me marry him and tied me down because of you. He forced me to have you, even though I hated you and him more than anything in my life. Whenever I look at your fucking face, I remember how you were conceived, and I want to kill you with my bare hands. I want to stab you to death and watch you flounder in your own blood. You and your fucking sister were both conceived by rape, do you hear me? Every instance of sexual intercourse with your father was nonconsensual and painful, but you two came out of it like little demons. Konstantin is my son with the only man I ever loved, so, of course, I would love him and not you.”

Deafening silence falls on the living area as Yulia’s words slowly register.

Konstantin and Kristina are pale. Karina looks like she’s going to be sick, and even Yulia, who’s usually as emotionless as Kirill, is shaking.

On the one hand, all her deep hatred toward Karina and especially Kirill makes complete sense.

On the other hand, it’s still not right.

Out of everyone present, Kirill is the only one whose expression doesn’t change. But then again, he’s always eerily calm during extreme situations. It’s why he was the perfect captain in the military and is now highly fit to be Pakhan.

But just because he’s calm doesn’t mean he’s unaffected. He does such a wonderful job at erasing his emotions that he forgets they exist sometimes.

“Since Roman was adamantly against Konstantin having any form of power or inheritance, I suspected he might have a different father,” he says with baffling nonchalance. “Who is he?”

The others are still recovering from the weight of the news she just announced, but the woman herself glares at Kirill.

“Is that all that you care about?”

“What were you expecting? That I’d be a doting son when you were never a mother to me? News flash, Yulia, it’s not my or Karina’s fault that my scum of a father raped you. We didn’t ask to be fucking born to you or him. We had no choice in our existence, but you had all the choice to like or hate us, and you chose not to be our mother. I’m choosing not to be your son.”

“You killed him.” Karina leaves Kristina and slowly walks to her mother. “You killed Papa…right? All that time you were preparing his daily coffee…you…you’re the reason he got worse very quickly.”

Yulia lifts her head in the air. “It took years more than I would’ve preferred, but at least the idiot wasn’t suspicious.”

“You bitch!” Karina lunges at her, but Konstantin grabs her by the waist before she can hit her.

“What?” Yulia yells. “What? Are you all sad for that fool now? I’m the one wronged in this.”

“I’m the one wronged!” Karina screams back. “At least he loved me. He screwed my life up, but he loved me afterward. He kissed me good night and asked how I was doing. He might have been a horrible person, but he tried to be my father. You were never my mother!”

Yulia clicks her tongue as if she can’t stand the sight of her own daughter. “It’s pointless to communicate with you people. Let’s go, Kosta.”

Her son doesn’t move as Karina cries against him, her whole body trembling. He watches his mother with a dead expression. “Who’s my father, Mother?”

“We’ll talk about it once we’re out of this snake’s den.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you. Who’s my father? Is he still alive, or did you also get rid of him?”

“Konstantin!” Yulia clutches her pearls and then slowly releases them. “We’ll talk when you’re calmer and you realize no one cares about you as much as I do. Least of all this devil.”

She glares at Kirill on her way out. Her head is held high, and her steps are measured.

I admire that woman’s strength, but I still despise the role she played in her children’s lives.

Karina is sobbing as Konstantin pats her back. He exchanges a look with Kirill. I’m not sure if it’s comradery or understanding.

For some reason, it feels as if I’m intruding on the siblings’ relationship. Maybe they gave each other this look when they were growing up.

After a moment, Kirill goes up the stairs. I pat Karina’s and Konstantin’s shoulders, then follow after.

Even though I’m supposed to be mad at him, I can’t possibly leave him alone after that. He’s the type who hides his emotions to the point it backfires against him.

I replace him in the closet. His jacket has been discarded on the floor, and he’s removing his shirt.

“Are you okay?” I slowly approach him.

Kirill throws his shirt down, revealing tense muscles. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

I stand in front of him so that I’m between his body and the closet door. My fingers replace his scruff, and I stroke his cheek. “It’s okay not to be okay.”

“I’m perfectly fine. It’s actually good to know why she never liked me and never will. I have her assaulter’s genes, which isn’t something she’d ever approve of.”

“I feel sorry for what she’s been through, but she had no right to treat you and Karina as if it was your fault.”

He says nothing, but he leans into my touch, slowly closing his eyes.

I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face in his naked chest. Turns out, this is the type of consoling he needs, because Kirill circles my waist with his arms and engulfs me in his embrace.

His low whisper nearly stops my heart. “Thank you for being here, Solnyshko.”