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“His name. Our son’s name,” she offers awkwardly. “It’s Pasha.” I turn to her but don’t say anything. Pasha is a Russian derivative of Pavel. Which means… “I named him after your brother,” she confirms. “Pasha Leonardo Solovev.”
“But even if I have to choose between the two, know this: I would burn my Bratva to the ground before I let anyone hurt my family.”
“I have to say,” she remarks, “I can see why she made the mistake of falling in love.” “Indeed,” I murmur. But in my head, I’m thinking, She’s not the only one who fell.
Edging makes me… edgy. I need Leo. Now.
