Deceitful Vows (Marital Privileges #2)

58. Andrik

58

ANDRIK

M y drunken climb up the stairs of my home slows when I hear giggling. It’s late. I think. I haven’t looked at a clock in hours. I’ve done nothing but drink—and plot. Both have done little to improve my mood. I’m a grouchy prick, hence my hesitation to head in the direction of the noise.

“Fuck it,” I murmur to myself before heading to Zakhar’s room.

Fury is the first emotion I feel when I crack open his door enough to see his bed. It is soon replaced with fond memories. Anoushka is tucking Zakhar in by using the same tactic she did when I was a child. She tells him he will be transported to another dimension anytime he sleeps. He’s not sick in that world. He can leave his bed and play sports. He can do anything he wants to do.

Before my head can talk me out of it, my drunken heart says, “I hear sweets grow on bushes over there.”

Zakhar’s tired eyes shoot to me before the biggest grin stretches across his face. “No, they don’t. Sweets don’t grow on bushes.” He laughs, but it doesn’t hide his hope that I’m telling the truth.

“It’s another dimension, Zak. Things aren’t the same there. You can be anything you want to be when you’re visiting another dimension.”

Anoushka smiles in gratitude that I haven’t kicked her out as I did previously before she continues her famous bedtime routine. “What do you want to be, Zak? You have to imagine it now to make sure you get the right world once you’re asleep.”

As she rakes her fingers through his locks that are two shades lighter than mine, Zakhar’s eyelids grow heavy.

“I don’t want to be sick anymore.” He yawns, muffling his words. “I want to be strong and healthy like Daddy.” His reply is already tugging at my heartstrings, so I’m knocked completely fucking down when he whispers, “Then maybe he’ll stop being mad at me. He might love me like Mommy does…” He hiccups like he is fighting not to cry. “Like Mommy did .”

“Your mother loves you, Zak.”

He can’t hide his tears when he shouts, “Then why did she make me come here? Why did she leave me with people who hate me? I want to go home!”

He clutches Anoushka’s shirt like I did multiple times when I wasn’t much older than him, hiding his shame.

I refuse to let him.

Not because I’m an ass, but because he needs to know he did nothing wrong.

“She had no choice, Zak.”

When he shakes his head, sending more tears flinging off his cheeks, I gently grip his arms and pull him back from Anoushka. I need him to see the honesty in my eyes when I repeat my statement.

“She had no choice. But I do. I have a choice, Zak, and I’m not going to leave you. I promise I will be here with you as long as you’ll have me.” He looks like he believes me, and it weakens the heaviness on my chest. “But you need to promise the same, okay? You need to keep fighting. Can you promise me you’ll do that, Zak? That you will stay for me?”

“I promise,” he answers, his voice barely a squeak.

“Then I’ll do the same,” I pledge before pulling him into my chest so my shirt can soak up more than the black slosh that’s been leaking from my heart over the past few days.

“You wonder where I get my stubbornness from,” I mutter as I exit Zakhar’s room hours after he fell asleep.

“Blood isn’t what makes families, Andrik.” I cringe over her choice of name, but since it is Anoushka, the only constant solid female presence in my life, I let it slide. “Can I please?—”

I cut her off before a single plea in her eyes can be voiced. “You should probably get some sleep. Zak isn’t a fan of sleep-ins, and we spent half the night watching him sleep instead of joining him.”

She does her best to ignore the thick stench of alcohol leaking from my pores when she hugs me, but the lines sprouting from her nose when she inches back make her efforts fraudulent.

“I need to shower.”

“You do,” she agrees, smiling gently before she squeezes my hand. “It will get better. You just need to take it one step at a time.”

Her reply announces that she doesn’t know the full catalyst of my downfall.

Since I want to keep it like that, I reply, “It will,” before walking away from her.

It won’t be easier, but there is only one way you can go when you’ve hit rock bottom. Up.

A peculiar smell plumes into my nostrils when I enter my room. It isn’t unappealing. More unexpected. It smells feminine and sweet. An odd fragrance considering I’ve never welcomed a woman into my home, much less my bed.

“It-it’s me,” stammers a voice with a bird-like tweet. “Don’t shoot.”

My hand stops reaching for my gun when Arabella steps forward, moving out of the shadows the light outside my room causes. She’s dressed in a mesh negligee with an in-built bra and a high split in the thigh. It clings to her skin so perfectly that it doesn’t take a genius to realize she is without panties. I can see the lines of her bare mound and the dots of perfume she sprayed on her chest. That’s how sheer her nightwear is.

“What are you doing here, Arabella?” This is the first time I’ve seen her since she left for her bachelorette party. I’m not the best company in general, but I’ve been a bear with a sore head for the past several days.

“Dr. Fairmont recommends a hands-on approach after insemination.”

When she steps closer, I realize the perfume spray on her neck isn’t the sole sign of wetness on her skin. Her pussy lips are glistening. I don’t know if it is because she has a thing for arrogant jerks or if IVF causes excess residue.

In all honesty, I don’t care.

“He said it is scientifically proven that the chances of conception are greater if the recipient’s womb is”—her eyes flick up for the quickest second before returning to me—“ stimulated close to the insemination time.”

Her negligee is already leaving nothing to the imagination, but the visual becomes more risqué when she slides down one of the straps, sending the scant material floating to the floor.

She is as naked as the day she was born, but instead of kicking her out as per the better judgment of my head, I order her into the kneeling position the submissive held in Mikhail’s apartment the day I met Zoya before I spin around to lock my bedroom door.