Vlad
I want to comfort my bride, but there’s nothing to say. I’m the cause of her distress and what’s done is done.
Still, it bothers me more than I care to admit to feel her shaking in my arms. To see her come undone.
“Will you let her go?” Mika mutters in Russian so quietly I barely hear it. He doesn’t look at me when he asks.
“Yes. Eventually,” I tell him, also in Russian.
He flicks his wary gaze at me and gives a single nod before looking out the window.
“I won’t hurt her, and I won’t force sex.” It’s a f*****g awkward conversation to have with a twelve-year-old, but I feel like I have to tell him. I don’t know what the kid’s seen. His mother was a w***e. I don’t know how Aleksi or other johns treated her. Mika may be scarred from things that were done to her.
Worse, he might be
