Page 40 of Bound For You
I walk in and, sitting behind a large clear glass desk, is a man in his early sixties, with short white hair, wearing in a gray suit. He has a warm smile. I walk up to his desk and shake his hand.
“Hi, Mr. Foster.” He smiles and indicates for me to take a seat, and I do.
I clear my throat as he enquires, “So, what brings you to me, Ms. Gibson?”
I wring my hands in my lap as I croak, “You’re apart of the Irish Mafia, correct?” He sits up taller, more alert, his eyes hardening, and I continue, “I mean, you’re protected by them because your part of the family, yes?”
He leans forward, linking his fingers together, and leans on his desk. “What’s this about, Avery?” I clear my throat; he’s using my first name, so I know he means business.
“I’m pregnant with Sergi Popov’s twins. He’s second to Damian Volkov. I didn’t know who he really was until a few months ago, and he cheated on me a few weeks later. I’m here because I’m hoping you may be able to help me draw up legal paperwork to ensure he can’t take my babies from me. I am completely alone; my birth mother is dead, and my adoptive parents are also dead. I won’t let him have these children. I’m willing to split custody, but he can’t have them overnight until after I’ve finished nursing them.”
His eyes widen with each word, and he picks up his phone, then holds one finger up to me. “Noah,” he speaks into the phone, I clear my throat again. He grabs a bottle of water from the little fridge on the other side of his desk, and hands it to me. I give a small smile and take a healthy swallow. He talks to the person he just called, “I want to confirm, if I take on a client with ties to the Russians and the Italians, that my law firm will not be under threat.” He listens to the other person, and looks at me. He raises a brow, and I take a deep breath; he’s asking permission to share details on the matter with Noah. I give asmall nod. “She’s an orphan, who has found out she’s pregnant with twins by a member of the Bratva.” He stops talking, listens to what’s being said on the other end, then thanks the person, and hangs up.
He looks at me, my nerves ratcheting up. “I suggest we start with a formal letter which I will produce now. You can either give it to him or I can send it. Now, normally, I’d encourage you sending it, but because of who we are dealing with, I would suggest you personally deliver it. It shows you have more respect for the families. This letter will confirm what you’re willing to offer, and it will also offer security for yourself, okay? If he doesn’t agree, then we take him to court. But we’ll deal with that later, if needed.” I let out a relieved breath; he’s taking my case. Never have I been happier about my savings. It’s enough for a house for myself and the twins, and for the lawyer, and I won’t even have to touch my med school funding.
I nod and sit quietly while he drafts the formal letter, hoping Sergi will just agree to it. Twenty minutes later, he’s handing me the letter in an envelope, and I get up and shake his hand.
“I will contact you when I hear from his attorney.”
I nod and thank him again, then head out. I give the receptionist a small, sad smile, and she smiles back warmly, definitely a lot nicer than when I arrived. I head out to the SUV, even more grateful to my dad for putting it in my name; it’s the perfect size for twins. I get in and head to the next destination.
Another twenty minutes later, I’m standing outside of a building, trying to get the nerve to go in. I know I need to, I just don’t know how. My palms are sweaty, the paperwork in my hand is crinkling increasingly, and my breathing is shallow. My feet and body just don’t get the memo even as my brain keeps telling them to move. Several people nearly bump into me, then frown, looking at me like I’m weird. It’s almost 5 PM, and they want to get home. Volkov & Co doesn’t close for another hour,so I know he's here. I finally have the courage and say “fuck it,” heading into the building with a lump in my throat. I go to the reception area.
A tall Barbie-like woman sneers at me. “What can I do for you?” she asks in a nasally voice.
I clear my throat for what feels like the hundredth time today. “I have an appointment with Sergi Popov; a Mr. Foster made the appointment twenty minutes ago.”
Her eyes widen a little and she nods. “If you could quickly sign in, then go to the elevator and press the 50thfloor. The receptionist should be there to see you in.” I give her a small smile before I sign in head to the elevators. Once inside, I do as she stated and press the 50th floor, a lump forming in my throat again.
When I get to the floor indicated, the receptionist is nowhere to be seen, and I hear shouting coming from behind a black door. I take a deep breath and walk over to it and knock loud enough for them to hear me.
Sergi shouts, “What?”
I take a deep breath, open the door, and walk in.
twenty-one
Sergi
I’m sittingin my office waiting for Damian, Alexandr, Phoebe, Dmitri, and Maria. Al and Phoebe aren’t going away until tomorrow, and Phoebe insisted we confront the parents this evening; the kids will be with my receptionist a few doors down. I’m fucking glad that I she replaced the last one.
My office door opens, and everyone walks in, making themselves comfortable.
Phoebe speaks first. “How you doing, Serg?”
I just shrug and look at the man I consider a father, Dimitri, and he slowly closes his eyes on a sigh. I look at Maria and she has tears in hers, and that’s when I know they said something to Avery when I asked them to keep her company all those months ago. Before I can open my mouth, my office door opens again, and Basil, Peter, and Juan walk in. I furrow my brows.
Basil is the one to speak, while Juan decides to make himself comfortable, making me narrow my eyes at him, but he just smirks.
Great I inherited his smirk, too.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Juan just chuckles and Basil rolls his eyes and supplies, “He’s not with us; we met in the hallway.” He looks toward Phoebe, handing her two envelopes. “Alexandr’s receptionist said you were here. These are for you, well the bottom one is for both of you, a wedding gift, the top one arrived this morning. It’s for you only.” She furrows her brows and goes to take them both. She kisses her father’s cheek, and passes the bottom one to Al. She opens the top envelope, then goes still, looking around the room.
She clears her throat. “It’s an invitation to the New York University Medical School graduation on July 5th. It’s one ticket, with my name on it.”
I see Peter go still but my rage at not being invited too takes control and I ignore the reaction. Juan watches me closely, brows furrowed, eyes full of concern, but I ignore him, too. He has no knowledge of Avery, I made sure of it. Both Maria and Dimitri also still as well. Phoebe clears her throat again and pulls out a piece of paper. She looks at me, and I raise a brow; she knows we don’t have secrets, especially after she kept her life as an assassin a secret from me.
“She’s asking me not to bring anyone from our family, and she only gave me the invitation because she considers me a close friend. She hasn’t said it, but I think I’ll be the only person there for her.”