245. KIRILL IN CRISIS

245. KIRILL IN CRISIS
Kirill looked at Lilly, who was hanging upside down from the pull-up bar fixed to the living room doorframe like a tiny acrobat.
He sighed. “Why am I not surprised anymore?”
“Pew, pew!” Lilly shot invisible webs at his face. “Look, I’m Spider-Man!”
“Of course,” he muttered, brushing imaginary webbing off his cheek.
Meanwhile, Luna sat curled in Zaley’s lap, her sketchpad balanced carefully on her knees. The little one was usually quiet, far too observant for her age. But lately, she’d been shadowing her sister’s antics. And the last thing Kirill wanted was another Lilly running around. Or worse, one he’d be assigned to guard.
Lilly was already a nightmare to track down. Too clever at hiding, too quick at escaping.
Luna suddenly looked up from her drawing, wide-eyed, and pointed a tiny finger straight at Kirill. “Big scary man.”
Zaley smirked. “He is, isn’t he?”
“I didn’t come here for any of you,” Kirill said flatly, trying to ignore the sting of being called out by a toddler. He squared his shoulders. “Layla. A word. Now.”
Zaley’s posture stiffened instantly, eyes narrowing. “Why do you need my fiancée? What work could you possibly have with her?”
Just then, Layla walked in, wiping streaks of blue paint off her hands with a rag. She barely got two steps in before Kirill seized her wrist and started pulling her toward the spare room, now her workroom.
“Do you want to lose your hand, Kirill?” Zaley’s voice was sharp, almost dangerous.
Before the tension could thicken, a tiny but fierce echo came from Zaley’s lap.
“Do you wanna yoose your hand, Kiwi?” Luna hollered, mangling Kirill’s name but copying her father’s tone perfectly.
Zaley laughed under his breath. Kirill didn’t.
“What happened to you?” Layla asked, watching Kirill pace the room like a caged animal. His eyes flicked over her half-finished paintings, distracted for a second, before he resumed his restless stride.
“Remember the cow expert?” he asked suddenly.
Layla blinked. “You mean the veterinary geneticist who treated Captain Moo Moo?”
“Yeah. Her. Doctor Neve Solberg. She got knocked up.”
Layla’s eyes narrowed. “You mean you knocked her up?”
Kirill dragged his hand through his hair with a long, suffering sigh. “I did. We met at a bar. She started talking about cows, and I had no fucking clue what to do with a cow; thanks to Lilly, by the way. One thing led to another and… now she’s pregnant.” He stopped pacing long enough to look at Layla, his jaw tight. “She wants to keep it. So what do I do? Pack my bags and run for the hills?”
Before Layla could answer, a sharp knock rattled the door.
“Open the fuc—frogging door, Kirill,” Zaley’s voice thundered through.
The pounding continued until Layla shouted back, “Give us a minute!”
The silence on the other side was immediate, but heavy. She could feel Zaley’s frown through the wood.
“What do I do?” Kirill repeated, his voice quieter now, almost defeated.
Layla tilted her head, watching this man who could order executions without blinking but was now unravelling over a pregnant woman and a cow conversation. She dropped into her chair, smearing a streak of blue paint across her wrist.
“You don’t run,” she said simply.
Kirill groaned. “That’s exactly what I was afraid you’d say.”
“You got her pregnant, Kirill. That means you have a choice: step up, or be the coward you always swore you weren’t. You don’t have to marry her if you don’t want to, but don’t leave her alone in this. Babies… they change everything.” Layla’s eyes softened, though her tone stayed firm. “And they make you grow up faster than you’re ready for. Eventually, it's your choice. But facing that entire pregnancy alone is tough. I know that.”
Kirill muttered something under his breath, pacing again. “Fuck. Why does this feel scarier than walking into a warzone?”
“Because it is,” Layla said with a half-smile. “War ends. Parenthood doesn’t.”
Before he could respond, the door slammed open with a loud crack.
Zaley filled the doorway, dark eyes sweeping from Layla to Kirill like he was calculating who he’d kill first. “What the hell are you doing in here with her?”
Kirill threw his hands up. “Relax, Daddy Warbucks. I’m not here to steal your woman. I’m here to ruin my own life.”
Zaley’s jaw clenched. “You’re already halfway there.” He stalked into the room, wrapping an arm possessively around Layla’s waist as if to underline his point. “Now tell me why she had to be dragged into your mess.”
Kirill smirked, though his eyes were still troubled. “Because she gives better advice than you. You’d just tell me to kill the problem.”
Zaley’s lips twitched in a humourless smile. “Depends on who the problem is.”
Layla sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You two are impossible.”
Zaley’s arm tightened around Layla’s waist. His gaze pinned Kirill like he was interrogating a suspect.
“What problem?”
Kirill dragged a hand down his face. “The vet. The cow expert. She’s pregnant. With my kid.”
There was a long silence. Layla braced herself for Zaley’s inevitable explosion. Instead, he pulled his phone from his pocket, tapped a few times, and then, like he was signing a death warrant, he scribbled on his chequebook.
“Here.” Zaley tore off the slip and handed it to him. “Problem solved.”
Kirill blinked. “What the fuck is this?”
“Money.” Zaley’s tone was flat, practical. “For the kid. For the mother. For the cow, if necessary. You don’t need to panic anymore.”
Layla smacked his arm. “Zaley!”
“What?” His brows knit. “He said it’s a problem. I solved it.”
Kirill stared at the cheque like it was radioactive. His lips pressed together, and for a moment, just a moment, he actually considered it. “You know… that’s not… the worst idea.”
“Kirill!” Layla exploded, throwing her hands up.
He quickly tucked the cheque behind his back like a guilty schoolboy. “I mean, not that I would! Obviously. Totally irresponsible. Terrible. But still…”
Zaley leaned back in his chair, entirely unbothered. “He’s not wrong. It would work.”
Layla groaned, planting both hands over her face. “I cannot believe I’m marrying one and friends with the other.”
Kirill peeked at the cheque again. “How much is this?”
“Kirill!” she barked.
“…Right, right. Bad idea. Terrible idea. Forget I said anything.”
Zaley shrugged. “Offer stands.”
Kirill groaned, running a hand through his hair, but his eyes flicked to Zaley, serious for once. “You know what baffles me? You’re a complete idiot when it comes to your girls; soft, emotional, sentimental. But the second it’s someone else’s life, you’re cold as ice. Practical. Cheques and solutions.”
Zaley didn’t flinch. He only pulled Layla closer into his side, eyes never leaving Kirill. “Because they’re mine. Everyone else? Replaceable.”
Kirill stared at him for a long moment, then muttered, “And people think I’m the scary one.”
"If you decided not to have anything to do with the baby, you need to stay on that. One day, Neve might marry someone else, and the baby could have a father." Layla suggested. "Just don't do half-ass things. Remember, we are talking about another life."