Inked Athena (Litvinov Bratva Book 2)

I probably didn’t need the best doctor in Sardinia to administer a simple pregnancy test.

But if there’s a single fucking person on the planet who thought I wouldn’t get said doctor, they’re out of their goddamn mind.

This is Nova.

This is my child.

I’m not cutting any fucking corners.

That’s why we’re on this yacht in the first place. That’s why, the second my eyes opened this morning, I called Myles and told him to start working on Plan B.

And C.

And D through Z, for good measure.

It’s also why, right this second, I’m staring holes through Dr. Floris, ready if necessary to drill straight into his skull to get the information I want to know. The information I need.

If Nova is pregnant, I need to start making plans fucking yesterday. Everything has to be accounted for. Every precaution, every defense.

Not one man on this earth will hurt my family.

My phone rings for the third time in five minutes, and I move to silence it. But Nova’s hand slips into mine. “The doctor said it’ll be a bit before the test is ready.” She pushes me gently towards the door. “Take the call.”

“It’s just Myles.”

Probably with an important update about my twenty-five ongoing backup plans. But all of that feels distant for the time being. All I want is the answer to the question that’s been burning inside of me since I found Nova in the bathroom yesterday. Since I threw her birth control overboard and fucked her like I’d never get the chance to do it again.

I need to know if she’s pregnant with my baby.

And if she is, I need to turn the world upside down to keep her safe.

Her hand slips into mine and she squeezes my fingers. “I’ll wait for you. Just take it.”

I bring her knuckles to my lips, pressing a kiss there before I reluctantly slip into the hallway.

“What?” I bark into the phone.

“Who is this?” Myles sounds confused. “This can’t be Samuil. I know that because my best friend, Sam, woke me in the middle of a damn good dream involving several bikini-clad supermodels to start making calls around Europe for him and his on-the-run mistress. And that Samuil would be nothing but grateful to me for all of my hard, thankless work.”

“Go annoy someone else if you want a gold star. I’m busy.”

“So was I when you called last night,” he grumbles. “Some of us are seven hours behind. Some of us are tracking sniveling little brothers around the city instead of living it up on a bougie-ass yacht in the Mediterranean. Some of us⁠—”

“—are wasting my time,” I finish. “If you have something useful to tell me, Myles, spit it out.”

“I thought beach vacations were supposed to be relaxing. You shouldn’t be in such a bad mood.”

I have to bite my tongue to keep the news from spilling out.

The truth is, I couldn’t be in a better mood. For the last twenty-four hours, my head has been swimming with images of what my future could look like. And for the first time since I took over the Litvinov Group, it isn’t spreadsheets and blood feuds filling my head.

It’s images of brown-haired, silver-eyed kids clustered around a breakfast table. It’s the sight of Nova carrying my children, sundresses draping over her growing belly. It’s thoughts of our lives becoming inextricably linked in a way that a signature on divorce proceedings could never undo.

I wasn’t kidding with her earlier. If Nova isn’t pregnant already, then she will be before we step foot off of this yacht.

No matter how many tries it takes.

“Is Nova okay?” Myles prods.

“She’s great.”

She’s perfect. She’s mine.

Having children was always on my to-do list, but only in an abstract sort of way, floating somewhere between diversifying my investment portfolio and cleaning out the freezer. It was an organizational must—to secure my legacy, if nothing else—but I didn’t long for it. I wasn’t striving towards it with any kind of meaningful effort.

Now, the possessive beast in me roars with approval at the image of Nova growing large with my child, marked forever by her connection to me.

“No need to elaborate.” Myles whistles. “I’m suddenly understanding why you’re so ‘busy,’ so I’ll make it quick.”

“Finally.”

“John and May Morris got back to me, and everything will be ready for your arrival. They’re thrilled, actually. They didn’t think you’d ever actually make good on your investment.”

That makes two of us.

“Great. If that’s all⁠—”

“Yeah, yeah. Go take care of your woman,” he grumbles. “I’ll just keep slaving away for next to no gratitude. Don’t mind me.”

“I won’t.”

I hang up with the sound of Myles’s curse in my ears and a smile on my face.

My woman. It has a nice ring to it.

My wife would be even better.

When I burst back into the suite, my attention stalls on Nova. She’s lying on our bed, a blanket pulled over her lap. She looks like a different woman from the one who limped into that cabin a few short weeks ago. Her face is fuller and glowing, the bruises along her jaw are healed, and the bite marks along her arm are fading to soft, pink scars that I’ll learn to love just like I love the rest of her.

The thought stops me in place, ringing through me like a frying pan to the top of the head.

I love her.

Fucking hell, I love her.

My face splits into a wide smile, and Nova matches it. She’s radiant as she blinks back tears. “I’m sorry—I couldn’t wait. I had to know. Did he already tell you, too?”

“Tell me what?”

“You’re smiling, so I thought—” She shakes her head, still grinning. “It doesn’t matter. I’m pregnant, Sam. For real.”

The air leaves my lungs in one heavy exhale. “Pregnant.”

She bites nervously at the corner of her mouth, her fingers twisting in the comforter. “Are you happy?”

I turn to the bushy set of eyebrows in the white lab coat. Dr. Floris is marking something on a chart and humming under his breath. “Are you sure?”

“Most definitely,” he assures me in a crisp Sardinian accent. “Early, but absolutely pregnant. I’ve prescribed some folic acid, but that’s standard. At this point, everything is healthy and stable.”

There’s relief, but somewhere deep down, there’s something else. Some part of me that snags on his words.

At this point.

As in, at some point in the future, things could turn to shit. At some unknown time, maybe not too far off, everything could turn sideways.

Because that’s what love is, isn’t it? Giving someone else the opportunity to rip your world to shreds. It’s breaking off a piece of your heart and offering it up to the universe or fate or whatever fucked-up force makes decisions about who lives and who dies and who gets happily-ever-afters.

It’s not usually men with blood on their hands.

It’s not usually men like me.

“Sam?”

Nova’s voice cuts through the jarring, unpleasant turn my thoughts have taken. I give her a tight smile and then usher the doctor to the upper deck and onto the transport boat.

I watch the boat glide through the water, reaching the shore, and I wonder if maybe Nova and I should stay here on this ship forever. Maybe I should tell Oleg Pavlov to fuck off when he comes to reclaim The Sofia. This little bubble is mine now. It’s where I’ll keep Nova and our child safe—away from the world, my past.

But when I close my eyes, even the bright, clear sun and open skies can’t shake the troubling images from my head.

Images of the dank kennels and damp forests where my father taught me lasting, lingering lessons.

That’s my picture of childhood. That is what I know about what it means to be a father.

Nova being pregnant is good news. I want this.

So why the fuck can’t I envision a world where this doesn’t all end in disaster?

Gritting my teeth, I head back downstairs to Nova. I find her standing in front of the porthole, looking out at the ocean with her arms wrapped around her body.

She turns when the door clicks closed. “Are you okay?”

I clear my throat. “The doctor is returning to the mainland, but I’ll bring him back if you need anything. Just say the word, and he’ll be on this boat for good.”

Her eyes are fixed on me, searching. “Are you okay?”

I thought so. I was.

Now? I don’t know.

That wholesome image of children thronging underfoot, of sundresses and soft smiles and bedsheets fluttering in sunlit breeze… I can’t find it anymore.

All I see is darkness in the back of a cage.

All I hear is barking.

Loud, angry, endless barking.

“Of course I am.” Or at least, I should be. I want this. I want this so fucking much. “But I have to make some calls.”

“What calls?”

“I need to get things organized in Chicago. Make preparations.” The energy zipping through my veins suddenly has purpose, and I cling to it. “Now that it’s certain we have a baby on the way, I need to make sure I can keep you both safe no matter where we’re at.”

Nova’s mouth slants down in a frown. “And you have to do that right now?”

“I should’ve had it done already.”

“It’s not like we knew this was going to happen,” she says cautiously.

“But I should’ve had a plan,” I grit out. “We knew it was a possibility. I need to be ready.”

“I don’t think anyone is ever ready to be a parent.” She lets out a soft laugh like this is funny.

“Other people don’t have enemies like I do, Nova. I can’t afford to take any of this lightly.”

She gestures to the wood-paneled walls surrounding us. “We’re floating around on forty million dollars of security. I know you aren’t taking this lightly. But we have time to celebrate. This is good news, Sam. I’m happy. Aren’t you happy?”

I want to reach out and hold her so much, but the longer I look at her, the more I feel that missing piece of my heart. I feel how weak I am—how vulnerable.

“We can’t stay on this yacht forever.”

I start to turn away from her, but she catches my arm. Her hand slides to my face. “I know this is overwhelming. I know it’s scary⁠—”

“I’m not scared.”

“Well, I am,” she insists, her voice shaky. “Things feel so much realer now. There’s no going back. We’re going to be parents, Sam. A family. And it’s not like either of us have a working blueprint of what a happy, healthy family looks like.”

“This is a great pep talk,” I drawl sarcastically. “I feel much better.”

She drops her hand, brows knit together. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.”

“By pointing out that neither of us knows what the fuck we’re doing?” She opens her mouth to say something, but I pull away from her. “You must be tired. Go lie down.”

“Sam!” she cries, but I don’t stop.

Because if I stop, I might just say more shit I’ll regret later.

Shit like, Why the fuck did I think I could do this?

Why the fuck did I think I could be someone’s father?

Why the fuck did I think my past was finished with me?

Nova doesn’t follow me above deck, and she stays out of sight for most of the evening.

Fucking fantastic. Not only have I psyched myself out of what should be the happy delirium of impending fatherhood, I’ve also scared away the mother of my child.

Because I can’t just accept something good.

I can’t just be fucking happy without calculating the thousands of ways it could all be snatched away from me.

I prop my elbows on my knees and drag my hands through my hair. I don’t know the first thing about what it takes to be a father. Short of wrapping my child in a plastic bubble and locking them in a steel bunker, I have no idea what it takes.

What the fuck was I thinking?

“Can I join you?”

I glance over my shoulder to find Nova standing behind me. She’s barefoot, dressed in a sheer blue cover-up that doesn’t cover up much of anything.

“Knock yourself out.”

She slides onto the lounge chair beside mine and rakes her hair over one shoulder. “Have you finished making all your arrangements? Is the penthouse decked out with a shark-infested moat and a death ray?”

“Not yet, but I’ll add those to the list.”

She smiles, but there’s an edge to her smile, a sadness in the tilt of her eyes. “Can we talk now?”

I sigh. “You talk; I’ll listen.”

She fidgets for a moment, like maybe she regrets coming out here to start this conversation. I wonder if she’ll turn back. But then she draws in a big breath, straightens her posture, and blurts out, “I’m scared, too.”

She lets those words hang in the salty air between us for a long few seconds. “I’m so happy about this baby, Sam—but I’m terrified, too. I mean, my mother left me. Will I wake up one day and regret this? Will I change my mind and abandon my child the way my mother abandoned me?”

“No.” I know I’m supposed to be listening, but I can’t bite my tongue. “No, you won’t. I know you, Nova Pierce. You’re protective and loyal. You’re devoted to a bunch of flea-bitten dogs you barely know. Our child is going to have your entire heart and soul.”

“And I know you, Samuil Litvinov.” She reaches across the gap between our chairs to touch my wrist. “You’re not your father. You would never do to a child what he did to you.”

Her hand grazes up and down my arm, giving me comfort I don’t deserve.

Like she can still sense the wall between us, Nova crashes through it. She stands up and settles herself on my lap, her legs wrapped around me, her hands hooked behind my neck. “We can’t allow our pasts to get in the way of our future, Sam. This is our chance to do better—to be better—than our parents were.”

Her words settle deep in my chest, taking root there.

We have a chance to learn from our traumas. We have a chance to turn our pasts into something beautiful for the children and family we’re going to build together.

And just like that, I can see the picture again: Nova and I, surrounded by our children and a mess of dogs.

Happy.

Whole.

Together.

She laughs, shifting her hips against the erection growing between us. “Looks like you’re feeling better.”

I pull the transparent fabric over her shoulder to admire the scraps of the bikini she’s wearing beneath it. “It’s hard not to feel better when you’re wearing this.”

“It’s my last chance before I’m too big to pull off the outfit.”

I shake my head. “You’ll always be able to pull this off, Nova. Watching you grow my child is only going to make me want you even more.”

I slide my hands down her back and squeeze her waist. Her body rocks against me, and we both groan.

Surely nothing that feels this good could be wrong.

I’ve made mistakes before. I married the wrong person, trusted the wrong people.

But Nova is the right woman.

A woman I know will go to any lengths to protect our children and love our family. And if she believes I can do this, then damn me to hell if I don’t do my best to prove her right.