Til Death Do Us Part (Kornilov Bratva Duet #2) - Nicole Fox Page 0,37
her and take Theo and my baby with them, so I don’t think it is a good idea to let them spend anymore alone time together. I push open the door without knocking and stand in the doorway, arms crossed.
Hannah jumps back, yanking her arm from Molly’s shoulder, and Molly yelps, her eyes going wide.
“You should be dressed by now,” I say.
Hannah steps forward again and lifts her chin. “She isn’t feeling well.”
I glare at her and then tip my head towards the door. “I’d like to speak to my wife alone.”
Hannah’s eyes narrow and she lays a hand on Molly’s shoulder. “Only if Molly wants me to go.”
We both look at Molly, and she seems to shrink under our gaze. Then, she pats Hannah’s hand and assures her it is okay.
“Of course it’s okay. I’m your husband,” I say. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Hannah doesn’t look convinced of that fact as she slinks from the room, sliding past me. I slam the door shut behind her.
“What the fuck was that about?”
Molly is sitting on the edge of the bed in maroon sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie. I can see that her dark hair is curled in soft waves, and her brown eyes are rimmed in smoky eyeshadow and mascaraed. She is partially ready, at least, but the dress is nowhere to be seen.
“She was helping me get ready.”
I roll my eyes, not wanting to argue with her right now. “She was doing a bad job. Where’s your dress?”
Molly points to the closet, and I open the doors and pull the slinky silver dress out from where it had been stuffed in the back.
“Do you not like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” Molly says softly. “It’s just … it’s not me. None of this is me.”
She gestures to her makeup and her hair. “I’m not a woman who goes to fancy dinners and mingles with the most powerful men in the city. I feel like everything in my life is a game of pretend, and I am so tired of playing.”
My anger dissipates when I look into her eyes and see the sadness there. The resignation.
Molly looks exhausted, and I wish I could lay her back on the bed, tuck her into my chest, and sleep next to her.
But I can’t.
We have to go.
I hang the dress from the top of the closet door and move to sit next to Molly on the bed. She instinctively turns towards me as I sit, and I reach out and lay a hand on her knee.
“Molly, you don’t have to pretend to be the most beautiful woman in any room.”
She gives me a small, sad smile, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me. So, I grab her hand and bring it to my chest, letting her feel my heard beating beneath my ribs. Letting her know I mean every word.
“You are my queen, Molly. I know you find it difficult in these situations, but it is only because you have spent so long fighting. You know what it means to struggle, which makes you stronger than any of the silver-spoon women you are going to talk with tonight.” I bring her hand to my lips and press a kiss to the center of her palm. “Plus, I’ll be with you every step of the way. Right by your side.”
Molly’s lashes flutter closed, and she nods. “I know. I know you’ll make sure nothing happens to me, but I’m just … scared. I’m so scared. For myself, but mostly for Theo and our baby. It makes it hard to leave the house.”
I drop her hand and slide mine to the front of her hoodie. To the place where our child is growing inside of her. “I’ll protect all of you.”
It is too soon to feel any kicks or movement, but a warmth seems to radiate from her center, and I find myself drawn to it, desperate to know the child growing there.
I can’t let her walk away with my baby.
The answer to the question I’ve been asking myself rises in my mind, and I yank my hand away quickly.
Emotional attachments are dangerous. They clutter my mind and muddy my thinking.
If I want to keep my family safe, I have to stay cold. Unaffected.
When Fedor is gone and no longer a threat, I can think about this. But right now, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters until I know they will all be safe.
I stand up and straighten my jacket. “I’ll let you get dressed.”