Page 38 of Bound By the Bratva
"You think this place is safe because I say it is? If something happens to me, his legal guardianship has to be clear." He says it like he’s explaining a routine business matter, not something that fractures every piece of my world. His eyes never leave mine. "Everyone in my world must know what belongs to my son, even in my absence."
"You mean your ownership," I scoff. "You don't fucking own him, or me!" I try to maintain some semblance of control, but I can feel my pulse pounding in my ears.
Rolan tilts his head as he looks at me and says, "No. I mean what I said. I am his legal guardian, Anya." He crosses his arms and puffs out his chest in victory, but I'm not done. He’s done the math, and I’m just the variable he’s waiting to eliminate, and I refuse to be pushed around any longer.
I step toward him, heart slamming against my ribs. "You never even told me. You didn’t ask. You just filed papers like I’m nothing. But I gave birth to him," I scream, pounding my chest. "I am his mother. I carried him in my womb. I am his guardian." My voice shakes, but I don’t back down. His eyes flicker with amusement, but he keeps his expression blank. I’m not giving him the satisfaction of silence.
"You’re a threat to his stability, Anya. You and your precious'Batya'are going to see my son end up at the bottom of Lake Senezh."
The slap lands before I think. My palm stings, but Rolan doesn’t even react. His head barely turns. He just stares at me, unmoved. He doesn’t care that I’m shaking or that this is breaking me open. His heart is a fucking block of ice. I don't know why I ever for even a second thought he could be something good for me. He's an evil man.
"You kidnapped him, yousukin syn. You’re using him like a pawn." He lifts his glass and drains it, swallowing slowly, and I watch the movement of his throat, the way he sets the glass down with quiet control.
"He’s my son," I whimper, realizing my rage is doing nothing. If anger doesn't work, I'm not sure what to do. Rolan can't take him from me. Nikolai is all I have. But he doesn’t look away.
He wants me to hear it when he says, "He's my son…" To feel it down to the bone. There’s no apology in him even after all of this. I should’ve never returned to Mytishchi.
"He’s mine." I shift my stance, refusing to break the line between us. My spine stays straight, even though my heart wants to curl in on itself.
"He’s both." Rolan straightens his shoulders and reaches for me, but I back away one step.
"You don’t get to pretend this is about protection. This is control." I fold my arms tightly across my chest, trying to keep my breathing steady. I won’t be a name on his paperwork. I won’t be a footnote in his legacy.
"It’s not about control. It’s about what's right. You kept my son from me, and now I will have what belongs to me, whether you like it or not." His voice doesn’t rise but there’s finality in every word. He’s already made the decision for both of us.
"Then what about me?" My breath catches, but I force it out and keep my voice even. I wait, bracing for the lie or the truth—whichever hurts more.
He crosses the room in two long strides and his hands come to my waist, and I knock them away with another slap, harder this time. He recoils half an inch but holds his ground.
"Don’t touch me." I step back quickly, my jaw clenched so tightly I think I might crack a tooth. My fingers tremble, but I hold his gaze. I won't let him handle me again the way he did yesterday. He can't just make me melt because the chemistry is strong. I can't let him get in my head.
He breathes through his nose, eyes narrowing. "You’re mine too, whether you like it or not. You became mine the moment you walked into my house and chose to stay because you're his mother." He doesn’t move closer again, but it feels like he's shoved me backward. "You're my wife, Anya. You signed those papers of your own free will."
"You can’t file away my rights. You can’t erase who I am to him." My arms gesture wildly as I speak, and it feels better than hugging them over myself. The plan is already whirring around in my head. I have to get Nikolai out of here.
"I don’t want to erase you. I want you to realize that I'm right and you won't win." His tone darkens, a thread of something vicious beneath the surface. His words wrap around me like chains.
"You already forced me to stay and now you want me to sign Nikolai's death warrant?" My jaw shakes as the question comes out and the daggers hit me one by one. That's what is going to happen. Nikolai is going to die. Maybe not today, maybe not for a decade, but if he stays here under Rolan Vetrov's roof and is raised by this violent empire, he will lose his life. It terrifies me. I turn and run out, and all I can think of is getting toBatya'scontact now.
The house is dark. I run through the hall without stopping, barefoot on the cold tile. The guards glance up but say nothing. They’ve learned when to stay out of the way now after only a few simple orders from me.
Nikolai’s room is quiet. A single nightlight glows against the wall, casting soft shadows across his face. He’s curled in the center of the bed, one hand still clutching the blanket. I shove my feet into my shoes then gather him into my arms. He stirs once but doesn’t wake. His head rests against my shoulder, and I keep the blanket around him snugly.
I carry him through the corridor and down the stairs, without a thought to my coat or purse. The phone is in my robe pocket, and despite it being bitterly cold tonight, I don't even pause to think things through. My breath is steady now, cold in my chest because I'm determined not to stay here one more second. And no one stops me, not at the bottom of the stairs, not at the front door. My arms ache, but I don’t shift my grip.
The cold air bites my skin as soon as I step out, and when my feet hit the driveway, two guards step in front of me.
"I’m leaving," I say, holding Nikolai close. "Don’t make a scene." I lock eyes with them, waiting for one to challenge me, but even then they exchange glances and step away. Rolan's orders to heed my words have worked in my favor.
I keep moving forward and my arms tighten around Nikolai as I pass. He begins to stir, and I press kisses to his forehead as I let the plan form in my mind. I'll call a cab to take me to the contact's address and after that, I will go to the apartment to get the cash. After that, I will run far from here, where Rolan won't ever find me.
I make it halfway down the driveway. The gates rise ahead of me in the darkness. Beyond them, the night is wide and open and I can almost taste freedom. And then I hear Rolan again. His voice cuts through the night like the crack of a whip.
"Anya."
I freeze in place, every muscle clenched. I should run, but I stop. I begin to shiver as I turn and see him approaching quickly. His shirt is rumpled, his expression locked on me, and he's not even running. It's like he knows I won't ever ignore him. I'm so easily read. He knows how terrified I am of him.
"Put him down." He stops a few steps away, not reaching for me, but close enough that I can feel the pressure building. His tone is sharp and unforgiving—one he's never used on me, though I've heard him bark at his men like this.
