Satin Princess(95)

He raises his eyebrows. “Did you not understand what I just said?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m just saying that a lot of what you told me is based on assumptions. Maybe if you allowed yourself to have a real conversation with your brother, you might realize that what you’re scared of is actually a non-issue.”

He shakes his head. “You didn’t see his face when he found out that Marina was still alive. That’s on me. I fucked up.”

“Mistakes happen all the time, Yulian.”

“Yes, but when they happen in our world, people die,” he retorts. “You almost did.”

“Almost,” I underscore. “But I didn’t. I’m still here.”

He shakes his head. “It’s nice of you to want to give me a pass, but I have to hold myself accountable for my mistakes.”

“If I have a son, I’m going to make sure he knows that it’s okay to screw up,” I say firmly. “I’m going to make sure he doesn’t beat himself up because he made one wrong move.”

Yulian smiles. “Not sure how well that’ll go down with Anton, but you can certainly try.”

“Anton will want his children to be happy.”

“He’ll want them to survive,” Yulian corrects. “The two things don’t always go hand in hand.”

I feel a sense of unease spread through me as Yulian says those words. It forces me to confront the simple truth I’ve been avoiding: that living with Anton, raising a child with him, is not going to be anything like I expect. He’s cut from a different cloth.

And this child will belong to his world more than to mine.

“You’re going to be a great mom, Jessa,” Yulian says, surprising me with his heartfelt words.

“You think?”

He nods. “You’re warm and kind and patient. That baby’s going to need you a lot. Especially if he’s raised in this world.”

“It’s funny—I’ve always known I was going to be a mother. I’ve looked forward to this day for a long time.”

He smiles with understanding. “It’s not anything like you pictured it, though?”

I sigh. “Not even close.”

“Maybe it’ll be better than what you pictured,” he says. “Ever thought of that?”

I glance at Yulian and feel my heart swell a little. I see Anton in him, of course. The posture, the width of the shoulder, the dark eyes. But whereas Anton broods and simmers, Yulian is lightness incarnate. He tries to pretend otherwise, but it shines through him no matter what he does to hide it.

Maybe that’s why, before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “Yulian, will you be my baby’s godfather?”

I’m not even sure I have the right to make that decision. But apparently, I just did.

Yulian’s eyes go wide. “Are you serious?”

“You’ll be the baby’s uncle, of course. His only uncle. But I think I would like you to be his godfather, too.”

He looks amazed, but there’s a kind of reservation in his reaction. “Um… have you and Anton discussed this?”

“Well, no,” I’m forced to admit. “But I’m sure he’d agree. You are his brother, after all.”

“His screwup of a younger brother.”

“Come on, Yulian. He may have been pissed at you, but I doubt he’s going to hold it over your head for the rest of your life.”

“Then you don’t know Anton very well. The Bratva is everything to him.”

“You’re his family.”

“So are you now,” he says. “That doesn’t mean that he won’t put the Bratva first every time.”

I frown. Those words land heavy on my already-fragile heart.

“I’m sorry, Jessa,” Yulian says quickly. “I ruined the moment.”

“No, no—”

“I did,” he cuts in apologetically. “I didn’t mean to; I was just surprised. And touched. And I don’t really know how to process it.”

“Little by little,” I tell him with a shy smile.

He smiles back. “You’re good for my brother, you know? He needed someone like you to soften him up.”

“You don’t think he’ll get bored?”

I’m laying my biggest insecurity bare, but I trust Yulian. He won’t judge me.

“Don’t underestimate yourself,” he says.

“Sometimes, I wonder how Anton and I are gonna make anything work,” I admit. “Especially given what happened between him and Marina.”

“What does that have to do with you?”

I shrug, trying to act carelessly detached from the situation. “She was born into the Bratva. She knew what to expect and so did he. And still, the marriage blew up in their faces.”

“Because they were all wrong for each other,” Yulian says. “Maybe what Anton needed was not a mirror of himself, but someone completely different.”

“A mirror of himself?”

He smiles, though it’s thin and tight. “I know you may not want to hear it, but Marina was a lot like Anton in many ways.”

“How?”

“She was confident and opinionated. She was all alpha, all the time. She was highly intelligent, very perceptive. She knew when to be charming and when to be ruthless. She could wrap people around her little finger without them being any the wiser. She would have made the perfect wife—if only Anton had known how to handle her.”