Page 78 of Daddy Brigadier

As I approach the receptionist’s desk, the seemingly friendly girl picks up the phone, pretending to engage in a conversation, but her lips remain sealed.

I wait for the elevator, pulling out a bottle from my pocket. I take two pills, swallowing them quickly while focusing on my breathing, hoping to ease the relentless pain in my chest.

The elevator door slides open, and Elise emerges, cradling her son as she balances his weight. With a resigned sigh, she slips off her jacket, the unmistakable evidence of the baby’s spit-up staining her top.

“Where the fuck were you?” I demand, stepping closer to her.

“Demyan is sick. I took him to the doctor,” she replies, her eyes wide with worry. “What’s going on?” she asks, sounding as if this wasn’t her plan all along.

“I am no longer a Brigadier,” I say, my frustration clear as I press my finger against her chest.

The baby starts to cry softly, clearly shaken by my abrupt voice.

“Brigadier,” Elise whispers, her wide eyes darting nervously to the onlookers gathered around. “Valentin.”

I smirk, unbothered. I don’t care if they fucking hear me. They’re nothing to me.

Approaching cautiously, I’m fully aware of the influence she wields. “You promised to help me,” I remind her, gripping her arm firmly.

She maintains eye contact and mirrors my posture. “This is for your own good. Now, go home, Brigadier.” Her voice softensinto a compelling, almost dangerous whisper. “You know what you need to do now.”

I step into the elevator and pause to glance back. Elise is still standing there, cradling her cranky baby, her hair swaying gently with the movement. For the first time, I notice a tattoo on her left shoulder—a small coffee cup. It’s a detail I’ve never noticed before.

As the door begins to close, I stop it, catching her attention. “She’s your sister,” I growl, frustrated that I didn’t realize this earlier. “Lexi Summer is Alexis Walsh.”

She locks her gaze onto mine, the truth concealed behind her eyes. “That’s why she isn’t part of the deal. She’s mine,” she scowls, biting back defiantly.

I incline my head in a short nod, fully aware of our agreement.

Once the door closes behind her and I’m left in silence, I fight back the lump in my throat, finally grasping that Petrov’s assault on Lexi was merely a ploy to strike at the Savins. If you can’t kill Elise directly, then target someone she cares about instead. Lexi is the vulnerable link—just an innocent little sister trapped in a dangerous game she never chose to play.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

LEXI

When I wake up, it’s with a deep anxiety, the kind that keeps my mind racing even when I’m sleeping. I have been waiting all day for Valentin, hoping he would come home right away. Each time I called, my heart sank as it went straight to voicemail.

Groaning, I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling while my stomach rumbles loudly. I push myself out of bed and stretch, making my way across the room. The loft is eerily quiet. It’s late at night, and Valentin should have joined me in bed long before now.

After grabbing a glass of water, I find him in his office, the door slightly ajar.

He’s sitting at his desk. He glances up when he hears me, his eyes deep, piercing black. His expression stays cold, with not even a hint of a smile or any warmth.

“Are you coming to bed?” I ask, dressed in nothing but his oversized shirt.

He checks his watch and sighs. “Tempting, but I’m still working,” he says, raising his glass of Scotch. I can’t help but notice that the bottle on his desk is nearly empty.

“What did you do today?” he asks.

There’s a quality to his tone that makes me hesitate. Tension knots his jaw, and a fleeting, unreadable expression crosses his face, hinting that he’s troubled by something.

“I went to work, but I didn’t stay long.”

He studies me for a long moment. Whatever is going on, it’s weighing heavily on him.

“What else did you do?”

I pause, blinking in mild confusion. “I just came home, here.”