I part my lips to say something I shouldn’t. To open one of those doors.
Then I do the exact f*****g opposite instead.
“I’m not taking care of you,” I snap. “I’m taking care of the future don of the Uvarov Bratva.”
She blinks her eyes open and recoils sleepily. “Huh? The what of the… huh?”
I glance down at her hand where it’s splayed across her belly. “I have no children. Adrian’s child is the only one that remains. Which means—”
“It means nothing,” she says sharply, her eyes flecking with furious browns. “My child is not going to be the don of anything.”
“That’s not up to you. This is larger than you. It’s larger than both of us.”
She looks shocked as she struggles to push herself upright on drugged limbs that don’t want to cooperate. “I don’t care about your damn—”
Before she can
