22. Inessa

My limbs are heavy, but my stomach is missing the weight I'm used to as I try to clear the fog in front of my eyes. My hand automatically goes to my stomach. It's still swollen, but there's no tension under my skin or movement. Vlad's swollen, inked hand lands on top of mine and he speaks too softly.

"She's been waiting for you to wake up."

He doesn't call her by her name and I croak it out, correcting him, "Verena."

His lips lift and I hate it. All that time I spent with the other Vartanovs, and they brainwashed me to pick a V name. Their suggestions were variations of their own names, but it was still a V name.

Leaning over me, he strokes my hair back and it's almost as though he cares. I shatter the illusion and stupidly hope clings to me as I ask, "Have you seen her?"

He hides his lack of emotion as he blinks and clears his throat. "My brothers have been sitting with her, so she isn't alone."

But not Vlad because he refuses to care about my daughter.

I don't know why I keep talking or asking him for help as he wraps his arm around my shoulders to help me sit up. "Take me to her."

My legs tingle as though there's static under my skin. I expect him to run away, but he does the opposite. His hands are gentle, unclipping the wires from the monitors and disconnecting the IV. Looking at my exposed back, he pauses and rests me against the pillows. There are no words exchanged as he shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over my shoulders.

He turns into a nurse and fills a glass with water before bringing it to my lips. I don't know if he's sustained an injury to the head, but he's caring and patient. Which are not traits I would associate with him on any given day. This is the fourth time he's done this, or fifth. Every time I've woken up he's given me water and I couldn't lift my head before. I have more energy now, enough to go to my daughter because she's alone rather than have a pointless argument.

He sets the glass down and scoops me up with his arms under my knees and back. I lay my head on his shoulder as he carries me out of the room towards another private room. My eyes close and my breathing shallows as I turn lightheaded. We slow down and I'm imagining things as soft lips brush my forehead.

I want to hold her, at least once, and I reserve my energy.

My eyes open as we enter the room. Everyone else is sitting there around a transparent crib with lights shining on it. Viktor's hand is through the arm hole as he comforts his cousin, and his smile is the widest in the room as he whispers, full of excitement, "She's kind of wrinkly, but Dad said all babies are."

Dani gets up from the seat she's in and pushes it closer, joining the other adults all ignoring Vlad. Whatever he's done has them pissed and disappointed. But I don't care about any of it, I just want to see my daughter.

He gently sets me down in the seat as they make their excuses to leave. I don't look away from the small bundle in front of me. Her skin is pink and delicate, but she doesn't look like she's in pain. The card above her head has her name filled as ‘girl' Vladislavovich Vartanova. A dry laugh leaves me full of air. He gave her a patronymic name, but he won't even look at her.

I move away from the infuriating idiot who refuses to make sense and go to the sink on shaky legs to scrub my hands. The V insignia on my ring finger isn't for him anymore. It will forever symbolize my little girl. Refusing to let anything stop me, I ignore Vlad's sudden need to hover around me. He doesn't touch me, just follows me like a bad smell in case I fall.She won't hear arguing, or someone cursing her parent. There's no hope for he and I, but he still has the right to be a father.

I make sure there's no sound to wake her as I carefully lift the top of the crib and gently cradle her in my hands. I've held babies before. They've never felt this delicate, and she doesn't twitch as I lift her out. My smile is watery, counting her little fingers, and Vlad clears his throat, mumbling an excuse to leave.

"Let me know if you need anything."

I won't allow her to hear my voice full of ire the first time she hears it and don't respond. Without turning to look at me, he walks away. I'm not used to the sight of him leaving despite that being his default. He's never asked me to stay or even entertained the idea. But he didn't lie about my use — this is how it was always going to end.I lower into the seat and move the little hat on her head out of her eyes. She looks grumpy, pissed off at the circumstances that brought her into the world.

"Hi, little wriggler, I'm sorry I didn't see you first. I'm your mama."

* * *

Spendingfour weeks in a hospital has me craving normal smells. Hope is a merciless bitch and I expect Vlad to be at the door as we're both discharged. Verena is asleep and I turn at the sound of the steps as I smell the top of her head. But it isn't the one man who should be here, it's Valentin. He gives me a small smile, knowing my expectations and speaks softly so as not to wake the baby.

"You two ready to come home?"

I feel less nervous knowing I'm not going to be on my own and he's done this before, so he can help me. I have more appreciation for him being a teenager and raising a child now that I know how terrifying it is. I'm not an adult and I wish I had parents who I could run to. Verena lets out a small warble and I feel my insides collapse. Every sound she makes does it and he must see how far out of my depth I am as he steps forward.

His voice is soothing as he takes her from my arms and gently positions her in the crook of his arm to massage her stomach.

"Hey Vero, are you scaring your mama?"

I burped her but she lets out a series of smaller ones as he continues massaging her. I'm failing already. I can't even burp my own child. Tears burn the back of my eyes, and he speaks in the same soft cadence to me.

"I didn't know shit with Vik. I honestly thought he was going to turn out feral because whatever he wanted to do, I'd let him. He spent six months not wearing shoes anywhere because he liked this cartoon about a kid who lived in the jungle."

I smile at his honesty and ask, "How did you learn to do it all then?"

His face hardens instantly, and he takes a controlled breath. He doesn't answer me and picks up my bag, placing it on his other shoulder, as he nods towards the door. "Come on, Tali is waiting for you guys. We can't keep the puppy waiting."

Val doesn't lose the tension as we leave the hospital, and he already has the car seat set up when we reach the car. Every little twinge on Verena's features guts me as we get in the car, and I know that it will never change for as long as I live. I always thought I'd gain more understanding regarding my parents' attitude when I have a child, but it just makes me realize they're pieces of shit. I couldn't leave her or ignore her existence. I would burn the world and its entire population before I ever allowed anyone to take her from me.

His jaw is going to pop if he keeps clenching on the drive home and his knuckles aren't fairing any better as he chokes the steering wheel. I'm sitting behind him, and all I can see are his knuckles pushing through his skin, but he isn't speeding or driving erratically. Despite the anger coursing through him, his voice is gentle, not wanting to wake his niece.

"We set up the rooms for you. She's got a nursery." There's more and he gives me a sad smile through the mirror before he hesitates, "and he's moved, so you don't have to see him."

No one mentions Vlad's name like I've written a rule saying he can't be spoken about.

None of this is my first choice, I would have gone home to our room if he had given me the option nine months ago. But he didn't, and somehow it's stuck to me as the reason for his coldness.I won't forgive him for abandoning my daughter. She hasn't got any expectations of what a father should be, and I'll make sure that asshole isn't there to plant insecurity or doubt into her head. She has two uncles who adore her, who have already proven they will drop everything to give her what she needs, and they can fill some of the gap Vlad has left.

Pulling up to the house, Tali comes out to help me carry her inside. He's like a child, excited about any time he gets to steal with Verena and holds her car seat so she's facing him. Blinking awake, grumpily, she scowls at him, and he acts like it's a wide smile, engrossed in his one-sided conversation as Dani comes to my side.

"Your uncle Val is annoying. I'd be grumpy if I had to sit around him for so long too, Veroushka."

Her face doesn't soften, looking more like Vlad each day.She closes one eye, dismissing the shit talk as we walk inside.

The father is nowhere in sight as we go to our floor, and the rest of his family show me the nursery they've created. Dani has painted a large mural on one wall to mimic a bright night with stars and the moon. Val looks proud of himself for the feeding station he's created as he puffs out his chest.

"It's a pain in the ass when they cry in the middle of the night. You'll love that more than the dumbass bear Tali got."

We keep walking through until I get to the same room that I should have shared with Vlad. It's now mine, like it was before. The only difference is the few items that proved he was here are gone. Life with a newborn is tiring and I don't think I slept more than an hour in the hospital. Setting Verena in her new crib, I kick everyone out.They'll end up coming back in when she cries or fusses with Tali stealing the baby monitor and making no attempt to be discreet about it. Gratitude fills me because he's doing it thinking I'll sleep as I lay on the bed, facing her crib.

I can't sleep. There's this fear of Len coming back from the dead and finishing the job. Every time I managed to fall asleep in the hospital, I'd wake up to darkness and hear him. My dreams are plagued with images of him pouring gasoline over Verena, and I'm scared to blink as I watch her. She'll be safer here. Val and Tali won't allow anyone to get close to her and the house is guarded with its own private road. No one can get to her.

There are two weeks left until I need to file for divorce. All the paperwork needs to be signed again, and even with the quiet, there's no peace. Two weeks until I have to leave this place and I'll live in fear of Len coming back. Focusing on our future, I drag my laptop closer and search through listings. New York would be the obvious choice, but I idiotically built my life here. I can't commute to Steorra every day with a newborn. When she starts school, I'd have to miss out on pick-ups and drop-offs. No, we'll stay close so she can grow up with Viktor, and I refuse to have anyone who isn't me raise my child like my parents did.

But nothing feels like home, I should have a reaction or something to stand out and imagine a future within the walls or gardens shown. But they all seem perfect for someone who isn't me.All of the large estates are too big despite how they meet the security requirements I'll need. One has an annex, Ana could move in and become my permanent guard to keep me company rather than protect me. It's still too big.

My eyes snap closed when the door opens. It's stupid but only one person would invade my space without knocking. Cardamom and sandalwood lightly perfume the air as Vlad walks in. He doesn't say anything as he moves closer. The bed doesn't dip as warmth ghosts over my cheek, and then my laptop is moved from underneath my limp fingers. He turns into a nosey fuck and clicks through my searches. He doesn't believe my fake sleep, and his voice is low, being mindful of the baby.

"Why do you want to move, meelaya?" he asks.

I slowly sit up since I've been caught and swing my legs over the side of the bed. I won't allow her to hear her parents' bitter arguments even if she isn't cognizant of the world around her and walk away, hoping he'll follow.

There's a delay as I push through into the hall, but he slowly emerges and closes the door silently. Frustration laces each word at his behavior as I ask, "What do you want?"

He's ignored us both, but the neurotic dickhead suddenly wants to be in control of my fucking life. He stands opposite me at the mouth of the hallway, his office door at his back and he's his usual calm, collected self, pissing me off further.

"I haven't asked you for anything," he lies like a motherfucker.

I could hit him, my hands curl into fists, itching to do it.

Taking a step closer, he muddles my senses and cups my cheek.

"Why do you want to move?"

His repeated question gets an answer and hurt coats my voice.

"You don't want us, and I won't teach my daughter to allow anyone to treat her like she's a choice when she's worth more."

Rather than say I'm wrong, he looks at me with pride. My emotions get the better of me, hoping for a reaction as I move my head back because his touch is addictive.

"I won't stop you seeing her, but if you do anything to hurt that little girl, I will kill you. I won't give a fuck about what will happen to me. Decide whether you're in her life or out of it, Vlad."

My parents always kept the door open for when my presence would benefit them. A last resort to occupy their time when there was no fun adventure, Vlad won't be allowed the opportunity to do the same. He doesn't say anything, turning fucking mute when his stupid brain always has something to say. Anger comes back at the mannequin in front of me and I look him up and down for proof he's a person.

"Have you even held her?" I ask, already knowing the answer will be no.

He doesn't answer and I move further away from the bedroom as disgust contorts my features and sticks to my words.

"Do you even fucking care?"

Refusing to act like a normal human being in a conversation, he takes a step back and ignores my questions.

"Send me the listing of whatever house you choose. If you can't find one, go through our portfolio and I'll transfer it into your name."

I grab his arm so he can't walk away from me again. His face is set in hard lines as I repeat myself. "I asked you a question. Don't you fucking dare walk away from me."

His nostrils flare when he doesn't have the right to be angry. His hand comes up, wrapping around my neck, but he doesn't squeeze as he walks me backwards, and the rough tone comforts me.

"What the fuck do you want from me? You wanted to fucking leave, and I let you. You want to leave again, and I'm fucking giving you it." My back touches the wall and he leans down, filling my vision. The world drops away as he strokes my cheek with his knuckles and whispers his confession. "I care too much, there's your answer. More than I should, and I'll take the pain so you two don't have to." Pressing his lips to my forehead, he says the same bullshit excuse as always. "You deserve better, meelaya."

Pushing against his chest, my hiss is full of disappointment.

"So be fucking better, you coward."

Hiding behind the excuse is bullshit and he knows it. You don't say you care, and someone deserves better because if you really did, you'd put in the fucking work. He would become the better option, not just fucking release me into the wild like he's fucking fishing.

His fingers flex, squeezing the sides of my neck, and he bites out, "I can't. This is the best version I will ever be."

Bullshit. I watched him kill his father. I saw how much hurt was inside of him. He has the capacity to feel, to be different, all he has to do is give that to his own daughter. Not me. I'll happily move on with my life without him in it. I don't give a fuck about him anymore. Or I won't once I manage to convince myself. But he doesn't get to walk away from his own child without consequences. My disgust increases and I meet his eyes, seeing nothing worthwhile for the man he's turning into.

"Fuck you. You're a coward. Just like your fucking father, both of you gave big speeches about not being weak because deep down you're insecure little bitches, and you know that is exactly what you are."

He takes a deep breath and slowly blinks. The cruelty is back, more intense than ever, lashing against my skin as he looks me up and down. Taking a step closer to me, he tilts my head up, so he's looking down at me and snarls, "Did you think me fucking you meant I'd want to keep you?"

My hand comes up at the venom in his tone. There's enough time for him to catch my wrist but he doesn't. He takes the slap, keeping his face in position to feel the full impact, but my anger doesn't allow remorse to sink in. It steels my spine instead as I peel his fingers off my neck.

"You're right, it's better for us both if you stay the fuck away. My daughter doesn't need you as any kind of example of what a man is."

Dickhead Vlad is back, and he laughs. It's horrible and menacing as he pushes closer to my body and keeps his hand around my neck to continue lashing me verbally.

"Is that why you built up the fantasy? Your father kept leaving you wherever he could, and you knew I didn't want you. Your daddy issues came out and you thought I'd fix them for you?"

His hand isn't balled into a fist, and I want him to hurt, I want him to be writhing in fucking pain while I walk away this time. But he stops me speaking, and the cruelty intensifies as he says, "You didn't deserve the little I gave you."

I lean into his palm to get closer to his face. He loosens his hold, proving he's a lying fucking prick as I spit, "At least my father didn't kill the love of my life."

He rocks back like I've punched him with a ton of force and his face drops.I haven't had any confirmation on who Vanya is, but she meant enough to Vlad for him to obliterate his father for the crime of killing her. And she was significant enough in his life for Len to see her as a threat. Given everything else his parents have done and managed to survive, that alone proves how deeply he held her. A twisted smile lifts his lips, and pain fills his eyes as he takes a controlled breath, ready to continue hurting each other. But he doesn't insult me or twist a knife in my back. He shows his pain in a whisper, "I hope you never experience the same, meelaya."

There's no satisfaction as he lets me go and walks away. I've accomplished what I wanted. I've hurt him, but why does it hurt me at the same time?

His steps are slow as though there are demons on his back weighing him down as he walks to the elevator. He doesn't press the button and stands numb to the spot. The glass panel shows a muted reflection of the pain on his features, which guts me further.

The human part of him pulls me closer. It's so visceral and raw as though he's shutting down and tears spring to my eyes. I can't process anything other than watching the man who literally terrifies everyone break and wrap my arms around him from behind. I must be moving faster than I thought because he rocks forwards from the force as I wrap both arms around him with my cheek pressed to the center of his back. I can't see his face in this position, and he doesn't pick his hands up. His heart is beating slower, like it's slowly withering away, and I squeeze him tighter to get the organ to work correctly.

His voice is cold and robotic as he speaks to me as though I'm a stranger.

"Take your hands off me, Inessa." I flinch as he barks out. "Now!"

A cry pierces the air, and I abruptly let go. My body aches as I run away, and the bedroom door slams from the force of me closing it. There's a lock on the door, and I slide it across before going to the crib and picking up my baby. Verena kicks her feet in the swaddle, and I hug her to my chest as I hold the back of her head. Tears fill my voice as I stare at the door in fear and softly rock her side to side.

"Shh, it's okay, my little wriggler."

He has never spoken to me in that tone. The one he uses on other people that promises pain and blood. The part of me that is fearful isn't over my safety, it's over his. Verena doesn't settle, and she tries to eat my cheek, so I hesitantly leave the room. I expect to see destruction, given the mood he was in, but Vlad is standing at the end of the hallway with his hands on the back of his head. His voice is softer, apology and remorse coloring his face as he stares at the little bundle in my arms.

"I made her cry."

My stomach churns, lead mixing in with it, at the soul-crushing agony on his face over something as small as a cry. She doesn't wake up from noise, or she didn't in the hospital when we were talking. So, I speak confidently despite not knowing if it's true.

"She's hungry, not upset."

He nods but doesn't remove his hands from his head as I slowly walk into the nursery.

I can't imagine him ever surrendering to anyone. It's messing with my head to see it, and he keeps doing this shit. Showing little moments of vulnerability that make me think it's deeper, that he really does care. He proves my point as he stands guard at the door, dripping in fear. He can't be scared of her, or of me. But his eyes are wide, and he doesn't blink as I take a seat in the plush chair and position Verena, ready to eat. When I lift my t-shirt, he blinks and turns his head. Those icy eyes full of pain swing to me as I wince when she latches on to my nipple.

Softening my voice, I stroke my finger through her dark hair that is just like her father's.

"Go easy on me, baby girl, I'm new to this too."

She doesn't give a fuck, also like her father. Vlad fully steps into the room before he speaks, and his eyes are wild as he asks, "Are you in pain?"

He's an enigma. He doesn't believe in any religion, but he never breaks the superstition of not talking through a threshold. He's not looking at my face, and he has the softest smile lifting his lips as he watches Verena eat, or drink, whatever it's called.

That gentleness forces me to speak and hate him a little less. "Just a little sore, especially with the stitches."

His head snaps up and his jaw hardens. The asshole is back, but he speaks quietly and takes another step. "Should you be lifting her?"

My arms automatically tighten around her little body as though he's about to rip her from me, and I remove all the anger out of my voice.

"She is my daughter."

He takes another step, his strides getting smaller and smaller. I thought he was lying when he said a baby could destroy him, but he's filled with fear and looks younger as he puts his hands in his pockets. He looks ready to cross his arms over his chest like I used to around glassware as a child. He's not afraid of her, he's terrified of hurting her. The big fucking idiot is pushing her away because he thinks that it will help her, not him.

I treat him like a wounded animal and speak softly, coaxing him closer. "Vlad?"

His eyes keep pinging between Verena and me. He looks so lost, fragile. I nearly laugh at the descriptor. This man is not fragile. But he's slowly losing color and there's sweat beading at his hairline. I've seen him after a fight, he wasn't sweaty or struggling to breathe. Now he is. He moves another inch forward as I wince again. He's getting paler with each step.

"Vlad, can you take out a bottle?"

He nods and remains a statue. I'm sure he's going to pass out. Fuck, if he passes out, I won't be able to lift him. The floor is soft, but his hard head will slam off the ground. Removing his hands from his pockets, he loosens his tie and undoes his top button. Tears blur my vision as I watch him force his steps. He carries a big enough ego to power everyone in the house, but this one task is choking him. His Adam's apple bobs as he audibly gulps and goes to the feeding station Val created. The pre-pumped milk is all labeled, and Vlad is already familiar with it. I'm too sore to continue feeding her myself, and she's too hungry for my supply to fill her up.

He doesn't look at me as he fills her bottle and some of the tension eases from his muscles until he turns with it in hand. I have to tell him to move as I get Verena to unlatch.

"Come here, lapachka."

She lets out a warble, and he turns as white as a ghost, rushing forward. He doesn't see me as he takes her from my arms, and I lose the battle with my tears as he kisses her head and speaks so gently he becomes a different person.

"Shhh, it's okay, malen'kaya zvezda."

She settles into his chest and looks so small as he holds her with one arm and strokes her cheek to get her to move towards the bottle.

He cares about her.

It's there in the way he doesn't look away from her little grumpy face as he hums bayu bayushki with nothing other than love in his eyes. He loves her, and I right my t-shirt before I stand. He doesn't even notice me until I gently hold his arm, so he sits down, and the fear is in his eyes. Leaning up on my toes, I press my lips to his jawline, and he relaxes.

"Sit down, lapachka, spend time with your daughter."

He freezes. His eyes close, and he stops humming.

That should warn me that he's going to ruin everything, but it doesn't prepare me for the blankness when he opens them again. Vlad's voice is back to being cold, detached, as he forces out, "Sit down. You can feed her yourself. I have things to do."

He's such a bastard.

I take my daughter from his arms and wait until I'm seated so I can cover her little ears before I give him the only rule I will ever have regarding anything.

"Do not make her feel like less because of your own inadequacies. She deserves more than you."

He turns, walking away, again, without saying anything or looking at us. No parting glance to ensure she's safe. All of the care and love has vanished because she's no longer in his proximity. The saying that girls marry their fathers must be true considering it's the exact same as my own.