50. Mikhail

The plan, as far as Viviana knew, was to wake up early, have breakfast, and drive to Dante's new school together.

Which is why Dante and I left before sunrise.

I never planned to lie to her about this. She wanted to be there to help Dante settle in and I told her we could make that happen. Then she burst into tears while ordering him curtains.

Leaving him in a dorm room, no matter how nice it is, is going to break her. So I took a page out of her book and lied to spare her feelings.

It's early enough in the morning that Dante dozes on the drive there. The guard at the gate checks my ID and notes my license plate number before letting us onto the property. Another guard stationed by the front doors takes our names and prints a visitor's badge for me after we park and get out. Then we walk through a metal detector.

The director gave me a full tour of the building when I enrolled Dante. It's the only place in the city that might be even more secure than the mansion. The bonus is that this building isn't under attack from two different crime families. Dante will blend in here.

Still, I'm not taking any risks.

Raoul and I met in a parking garage halfway between the school and the mansion to switch cars just in case anyone was tailing us. And no one outside of Viviana and my brothers knows Dante is enrolled here.

I've done everything I can to keep him safe.

It's what I tell myself when I see his naked twin-sized bed and bare walls.

He has to jump to pull himself up onto the tall bed. Seeing his little legs dangle in the air almost swings me to Viviana's side of the issue. He's too young for this. He needs to be with his parents. He can't be alone.

But I'm not doing this because I want to get rid of him. I'm not doing this because I think he's ready.

I'm doing this because it's the right thing to do.

No matter how much it hurts, I have to do what is best for my family.

"Your mama will call you tomorrow," I tell Dante, hugging him tight to my chest. "We'll visit you often and you'll come back to the house for long weekends."

He sniffles, trying hard not to cry. "When it's safe, can I come back?"

I want to ask how he knows it isn't safe, but it's mine and Viviana's kid we're talking about here. It would be shocking if he minded his own business.

"As soon as it's safe, I'll come pack you up myself." I kiss the top of his head. "You're safe here and this is just for a little while."

I mean it. Still, on my way out, I shove a wad of cash into the hands of the administrator in charge of Dante's block of rooms. It's more than she makes in a year, and I promise her double if she takes extra good care of Dante.

Then I get in my car and leave my son behind.

But fucking hell, it hurts like the devil to do.

Anatoly is standing in the entryway with a pained look on his face when I walk through the door. I don't even have time to ask him what's going on before I hear a loud crash from upstairs.

"Welcome home," he greets with forced cheer. "How did the drop-off go? Was Dante okay?"

Another loud bang echoes through the house, followed by what sounds like splashing water. I point at the ceiling. "What the hell is that?"

"Oh, your wife is rampaging through the upstairs and destroying everything in her wake." He says it casually, breezily, like he's telling me she's in the shower.

"Why aren't you stopping her?"

He pulls a steak knife out of his back pocket and holds it in front of me. "Because she threw this at my eyeball and I've decided I don't care what she does as long as she's not trying to murder me."

Another thud rattles the entire second floor. It sounds like it's going to come down on top of us. I can't even begin to imagine what Viviana is doing to make that much noise.

"She's a third of your size, Nat."

"No, she's a mama bear without her cub," he retorts. "That woman is the most dangerous thing on the planet right now. I will go through hell and high water for you, brother, but I'm not setting foot near that."

I want to tell Anatoly he's exaggerating.

Then I make it up the stairs.

The pictures that were on the hallway walls are now in tatters on the floor. A vase is smashed into the carpet like someone not only shattered it, but stomped on it for good measure. And just like Anatoly said, there's a steak knife sticking out of the wall, still quivering with the impact force.

Viviana's old room is more of the same chaos. Shit everywhere, pillow feathers floating lazily through the air.

The only room I peek into that is untouched—aside from the clothes and stuffed animals we packed—is Dante's.

Something bounces off the inside of my bedroom door and I'm sure I won't be as lucky.

I ease down the hall, waiting for a break in the shredding and smashing that I realize isn't going to come. So I push the door open and step inside.

Or at least, I step as far as I can before there's a boiling sea of clothes, jewelry, and shoes blocking my path. I'm about to pick my way through the mess when another bundle of clothes comes flying out of the closet, followed by the drawer they must have been in.

The drawer is solid wood, but Viviana manages to hurl it across the room and hit the bed frame. A chunk of wood splinters away and the front of the drawer breaks off with a pained, groaning crack.

I don't give a shit about the furniture or the house. But if she doesn't stop this, she's going to hurt herself.

I hop over a tangled mass of hangers and make my way to the closet. Viviana is standing in the middle of it, our tipped-over dresser on the floor next to her with the bar she ripped out of the wall balanced on top. She's still in her cotton pajamas, her skin shimmering with sweat.

"Viviana."

Every muscle in her body goes rigid. She turns to me slowly and I almost expect not to recognize her. As if she's been possessed by some vengeful spirit.

But she looks at me and… it's still Viviana.

Her eyes are swollen from crying, but they're as green as they've ever been. Her mouth is twisted into a scowl, but her lower lip is ever-so-slightly fuller than the top.

She's the woman I love—and she's a wreck.

I stand in the doorway, my arms opened wide. "Take it out on me." Her brows pinch together and I wave her forward. "Whatever you're feeling, malysh, let it out on me."

Viviana is frozen in the middle of the room for only a second. Then she launches herself at me.