Page 68 of Den of Thieves

There were pockets of good times during his stay in Kapotnya, but mostly the city reminded him of feeling helpless. That no matter how much he tried to help his family, the world always dealt them more of their fair share of burdens. They were too poor to have heat. Too unhappy to know joy. And too hungry after a meal to ever sate the grumbling of their stomachs.

Vladimir steeled himself and told his wife the story only one other person knew. “There was a bad man in our old building. His name was Boris.”

“Fitting,” she clipped.

“Aye. He hurt Dimitri. He hurt many boys, and he was going to do it again. So, I did what I thought would save my best friend.”

“How old were you?” she asked, reading between the lines.

“Eight. My parents died the next evening. AK and I hid in the closet. It wasn’t until much later that I discovered who killed them and why. There were a lot of strings that lead to their deaths. I can’t say that me not killing Boris would have avoided it.

“Anyway. Gustaf took us in. Gave us whatever we wanted. He couldn’t bear to see AK cry. Which she used to her advantage more often than not. I connected more with Ivan, Gustaf’s second. I was looking for guidance and a father. Structure. But that wasn’t Gustaf’s way, so we butted heads a lot. He did the best he could, given the circumstances.”

“He really is great with kids,” Karina said softly. Vladimir looked at her with adoration and opened his mouth to speak when her wet hands covered his mouth.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“What?” he asked innocently.

“No, Vlad. I mean it. I am done having kids. I barely bounced back from the last one.”

Vladimir simply nuzzled her neck with his nose, losing himself in her fresh lavender scent. “Ty vyglyadish’ chertovski goryacho s moim semenem.” You look so fucking hot rounded with my seed.

“Oh, the fuck well, Mr. Kovalyova. I’m not doing this again with you. That’s why I had an IUD put in. You’re too damn fertile for my own good.”

Vladimir laughed out loud, while secretly reminding himself to look up how to get rid of this IUD. “Whatever you wish, Solynchnka,” he said.

If Vladimir had his way, his wife would be pregnant every year for the next decade. His shaft thickened at the thought.

“Vlad, put that thing away.” She giggled. “This is as good a time as any to talk about the children’s futures.”

“My little angels,” he hummed.

“Your little tasmanskiye d’yavoly.” Tasmanian devils. She huffed. “Alexander is a little Houdini, Anya is Aksana 2.0, and Artym barely speaks.”

“All talents that will be useful the older they get,” he said, massaging her shoulders. “Alexander’s knack for hiding in and out of plain sight will be great in the event he needs to evade his enemies. Anastasia is a firecracker, and her mind is akin to a sponge. Great for learning negotiation tactics. Little Artym is perhaps the smartest out of the three, even though he is the youngest of the bunch. Despite his distaste for verbal communication, he sees and knows more than he lets on.”

“You’ve been paying attention.” Karina’s smile vanished. “Wait, does this mean you want them to join the ‘family business?’.”

“Da. You know positions within the Bratva are often inherited through the paternal side, as much as they are taken by force.”

“I know. It’s just hard to picture my babies in this life. I want them to have a choice in their futures.”

“Your American ways are making us Russians soft,” Vladimir grumbled, but he couldn’t begrudge her. He knew that if one of his little ones wanted to become an astronaut or a painter, he would support them as much, if not more, than if they followed in his footsteps.

“Let’s get out of here. I’m getting all pruney.”

He stood up, but Karina’s eyes lingered on his bobbing erection that was more or less face level. “Don’t look at me like that. I know you’re so sore you can barely walk.”

“My royal lady may be out of commission, but my mouth is still eager to please.”

Before Vladimir could process her words, Karina licked her man from base to tip before sucking him back as far as he would go.

“Fuck, woman,” Vladimir growled, tangling his fingers in her hair.

They missed breakfast and most of lunch. By the time they stumbled from their suite, the happy couple barely had enough time to make it to the airport to board their plane before the impending storm.

25. “Love is so Short, Forgetting is so Long.”