I knock at Tigran’s door early the next morning. The relief on his face is almost visceral as he lets me inside his multi-million-dollar townhouse right in the heart of the best neighborhood in the city. He leads me into the kitchen and pours us both some coffee. “You’re back,” he says.
“I’m back.” I take a long drink. It’s hot and burns my tongue, but it’s a good thing. I need to feel right now.
The last few days have been hell.
“Want to tell me what happened?” he asks. Which is oddly touching. I expected him to be pissed. I figured he’d tell me off and remind me of my responsibilities as the patron. Maybe even call me a selfish prick for putting him in this position.
Instead, he just seems concerned.
“I had to go through it,” I tell him.
His face makes it clear that he doesn’t understand. “Okay, great, you went through it. But what’s it?”
I take a deep breath through my nose and blow it out. All this time, Tigran’s been my closest friend. He’s my brother, my confidante, my ally, my most trusted advisor. We’ve shared everything.
Now, for the first time in my life, I don’t want to tell him the truth.
“You know I’ve always struggled with my place in the family.”
He shrugs slightly, almost too casually. “You overthink shit.”
“I found out something from Aunt Sona—” from my mother, “—that changed the way I’ve been looking at our childhood and my role in all this. I had to step away for a few days and process. I had to figure out what it all means.”
“You’re losing me.”
“I know.” I nudge at my coffee cup. I don’t want to say it, but it’s what I came here to do. “Our dad isn’t my actual biological father. Our mom never gave birth to me either.”
His eyebrows raise. “What the fuck?”
“Aunt Sona’s my mother.” I tell him the whole story. He sits back in shock and listens. It’s painful, saying it all out loud, but not as painful as I had expected.
He doesn’t get pissed like I was afraid he might. Everything he’s done for me, all the sacrifices he’s made, all the scraps we’ve gotten through, all that shit was done under the belief that we’re brothers.
“That means we’re cousins,” I say at the end of it all. I sit back and drink my coffee. It tastes good. Hot and bold with just a splash of milk. The way I always take it.
Tigran’s frown deepens. “No, we’re not.”
“Aunt Sona’s my mother. Boris Zeitsev’s my father. I mean, at best—”
“Shut the fuck up, you idiot.”
My grip on the coffee mug tightens. “I know it’s hard—”
“You dumb asshole.” Tigran shoves back and gets to his feet. “God, you’re such a myopic piece of shit.”
“Okay, I knew you’d be angry, but you’re being an asshole.”
He throws up his hands. “We’re not cousins. Who gives a fuck which cunt you got squeezed out from?”
I grimace. “That’s an ugly image.”
“I don’t care which cock blasted you into life. We grew up together. We fought, bled, and killed together.” He comes around the table and leans down, wrapping one hand around the back of my head, and slams his forehead into mine. It fucking hurts. And it feels good. “You’re my brother.”
“Tigran, you don’t have to say that.”
His grip tightens. He shoves his forehead painfully hard into mine. “You’re my brother,” he snarls. “Do you hear me?”
I finally crack. Relief slithers down my spine. I nod against my brother’s forehead and lightly slap his cheek. “Let go now, you asshole,” I say and he releases me, grinning like a maniac. I rub my face. “I needed to hear that.”
“You’re such a prick. Seriously, Arsen. You overthink everything.”
“You really think nothing’s changed?”
“Not a goddamn thing. Except maybe now you can stop agonizing all the goddamn time and start taking care of business. I’ve been holding the Brotherhood together these past few days and people are starting to ask questions.”
“It’s okay. I’m back now.”
“Better fucking be,” he mutters and sits down in his chair again with a sigh. He’s quiet for a second as he lifts his mug and puts it back down again. “Aunt Sona, huh? I guess that explains why she always favored you.”
“Favored me?”
“Hell, yeah. Bro, she gave you the best presents for your birthday. One year, you got that fucking brand new gaming computer, remember that thing?”
“That was pretty cool,” I say, remembering the way she’d tried to help me set it up in my bedroom, but she didn’t know what she was doing.
“I never got more than a card and a twenty-dollar bill. But that makes total sense. I was her nephew, and you—”
“I’m not her son,” I say firmly, cutting him off. “She made that clear.”
He nods and looks away. “Something changed. I always wondered why she got so resentful of you. Maybe it’s guilt?”
“I don’t care.” I finish my coffee and get up from the table. “Sona’s nothing to me.”
“What’re you going to do about her?”
“I’m going to tell the Brotherhood the truth about me. She’ll have to live with the truth.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
I look back at him as I go refill my mug. “Why not?”
“You’re half Russian. You ever hear of a half-Russian patron before? Things are tenuous with the Brotherhood already. If they find out you’re not full-blood Armenian—”
He lets that hang in the air. I’m sure he wants me to picture all manner of terrible outcomes, but I’ve been through it all. That was part of what I was doing in the goddamn walls of my own house, imagining every terrible worst-case scenario.
“The Brotherhood is going to change,” I tell him. “Whether they want to or not.”
“The war just ended. You’re going to kick it off again.”
“No, I’m not. Everyone’s ready for the fighting to be over. Now it’s time for me to reshape the Brotherhood while we rebuild toward the future. This is my family, Tigran. I need to know you’re with me.”
“After all this time, you think I wouldn’t be?”
“I’m giving you the option.”
“Fucking prick.” He waves a hand at me dismissively. “I’m on your side. Always and forever.”
“Go tell the others I’ll be back from my honeymoon tonight. Tomorrow morning, we’ll have a big meeting of the family heads.”
“Alright, I think they can survive until then.”
“Make sure Sona’s present as well.”
His eyebrows raise. “You think that’s a good idea?”
“Doesn’t matter. I want her there.”
“Whatever you say, brother.”
I’m feeling light as I walk through the mansion. Maud’s happy to see me out and about, although she does her best not to smother me. Still, my favorite lunch is waiting: pasta fagioli soup with some homemade crusty bread. I have a taste and promise to sit down for a big bowl later on.
But first, I want to see my wife.
I find her in the nursery. She’s humming to herself as she folds some onesies and burp towels and puts them into a drawer. I watch her from the doorway, not hiding this time, but I don’t want to disturb the moment yet.
She’s so fucking perfect. The way she moves, almost twitchy and abrupt, the way she keeps shoving her hair from her face, the piercings, her off-pitch singing. Everything about her. It’s imperfect and messy, and fucking right.
“I guess it’s an improvement if you’re going to stare at me from over there instead of in the walls,” she says, grinning up at me. She throws a towel over and I snatch it from the air.
“Don’t tempt me.”
“Did I mention some of your guards thought the house was haunted?”
“Oh, it definitely is.” I fold the towel and put it away. “Or it was, but not anymore.”
“Yeah? You busted those ghosts?”
“Dealt with them at least.” I take her by the hips and kiss her. The kiss turns hungry as my tongue explores her mouth.
“I missed this,” she says when I crush her up against the wall.
“Yeah? Did you? What a filthy fucking girl.”
She laughs lightly as I bite her shoulder. “A girl’s got needs, you know.”
“You have lots and lots of needs.”
“Damn right I do. Gonna satisfy them or are you gonna keep talking?”
“Mouthy fucking girl.” I grab her hair roughly and unzip my pants with one hand. “Now I have to punish your pretty little mouth.”
She’s grinning wildly. “Go ahead and try, you big prick.”
I shove her down to her knees. She whimpers as I keep her hands above her head and slide my dick into her mouth. I moan as I fuck her face. Spit and drool drips down my shaft, down her chin. She gags and gasps for air, and I drag her over to the crib.
“Right here?” she whimpers as I rip down her sweats and tease her pussy with one hand. She’s dripping fucking wet.
“Right here,” I say and press the tip of my cock against her. I grab onto her hair and kiss her over her shoulder as I bury myself deep into her silky little pussy.
“Well, fuck,” she moans. I sink deep to the hilt. “I guess you can fuck me wherever and it’ll feel like goddamn heaven.”
“That’s right, baby,” I say as she grips the edge of the crib. I fuck her deeper and hard, spanking her ass roughly. I shove my fingers in her mouth, make her suck them and get them nice and wet, before I rub her swollen clit with them while fucking her from behind. “You’re my wife. You’re my everything. But most of all, you’re my filthy fucking slut, and I’m going to devour every inch of your dirty little cunt.”
“Bad boy,” she moans. “Watch your mouth. I’m pregnant with your child.”
“Right now, you’re nothing more than my beautiful, filthy fucking wife, doing your duty by taking my big cock.”
“Yeah? It’s my job to fuck you?”
“It’s your job to come until your knees give out.”
“Mmmm, suddenly I like work.” She bucks against me, grinning wildly. I fill her faster, pumping in and out as I stroke her clit. The crib bangs against the wall, the slats clattering, and a pin suddenly gives out. The side slumps down as one leg falls, and Lena lets out a loud yelp as we topple off balance.
We land in a heap on the floor. She curses, but I’m not done with her. I pin her to the floor, face down, and tug her hips up.
“Arsen, shit, the fucking crib—”
I fill her pussy. “Who fucking cares?” I tear into her like an animal.
“God damn it, you fucking crazy bastard,” she gasps, eyes rolling back as I grab her hair and fill her tight pussy over and over. The crib’s half broken beside us and I don’t give a shit.
I tear into her until she comes, squirming underneath me like she can barely take it. But instead of finishing in her pussy, I make her open her mouth and suck my cock, and she swallows every drop like a good little princess should.
“That’s my girl,” I say with a sigh. Cum dribbles from her mouth and she grabs a towel to wipe herself off.
“Guess we can’t use this one anymore,” she mutters, frowning at it, before she tosses it aside. She glares down at the wreckage of the crib. “Who the fuck made this thing? It broke, like, immediately. What if our kid was in there?”
“We probably wouldn’t be fucking like animals with our baby in the crib like that.”
“Idiot.” She nudges me with her toe. God, that woman. I love her so much it hurts. I stare up at her and smile like a moron as she glares down at me. “We need a new one.”
“I’ll make sure we get something good.”
“And I’m building it this time.” She nudges me again. “You didn’t tighten the bolts enough.”
“Whatever you say.” When she tries to nudge me a third time, I catch her ankle and drag her down to the floor. She yelps and struggles, but I pin her and hold her against my body, my dick between her ass cheek, my mouth on her neck. “Now shut up and let me cuddle you.”
“Big prick,” she murmurs, but she doesn’t struggle this time.
“That’s my good girl.” I pat her hip lightly. “There’s a big family meeting tomorrow. I need you there with me.”
“You think that’s a good idea?”
“You’re my wife.”
“Then I’ll be by your side.”
“I know you will.” I close my eyes. Everything’s changed, but maybe that’s good. I don’t have to define myself by my father anymore. He was only ever my abuser.
I can be whatever I want.
Now I want to be Lena’s husband, the father of our baby—
And the patron of the Brotherhood.
