The gangster's little unknown assassin - Part 2 ✔

Chapter 62 - Dead flea

SAGE'S POV

"Bea, did you bring my package? I need it for a flea." The code was well understood by the ones present.

Even Czar looked at me differently upon the mention of a flea.

Flea was an uncommon word used to refer to a tiny irritating problem, normally assassins that made a hit and run without getting caught by the family they targeted.

Czar straightened his spine from beside his father and, with a poker face better than an adult, offered his help. "If you accept, I will extend my help to you." He very formally proposed.

Usually, I wouldn't accept help from the Mikhailov heir or anyone in general; however, since my daughter was the target, every helping hand is precious.

"Thank you," I conceded with a stiff nod. My daughter was the target," I revealed, and Beatrove's right eye started ticking like a tick-tack bomb. His hands clenched into fists, and his mouth opened and closed like a gaping fool struggling to speak.

"I'm done with this conversation." I quickly raised my hand to stop his oncoming questions. "If you want to meet her, follow me. If not, then crawl to whichever hotel you rented and stay out of my way until you're calm."

"Your face is pissing me off," I grumbled and turned my back on him with my dad and Vin on either side of me. We made a 'dramatic' exit towards our cars, and once inside, we saw Beatrove and his family getting shown to one of our cars.

It seemed they decided to meet her.

To my surprise, young Czar was the most taken with my baby.

"Она такая крошечная. (She is so tiny.)" He mumbled, amazed, much to his mother's happiness. The woman was practically vibrating with excitement, seeing him interact with Ziva. I pity Beatrove's arm. She's clutching on it so tightly with her manicured claws semi-jumping in place that one wrong move might completely pierce his skin.

"Sage, please tell the little punk to step away from my niece, or I will sever his hand if he touches her again." Vin hissed in my left ear.

"I don't care if he's a Mikhailov. I'll do it." Diesel ground out from my right side, with a sharp blade already in hand.

"Maybe we should wake up Cameron. They're almost the same age." Dad grumbled from behind me, and my uncles actually pondered it in between whispers.

"Stop with that shit!" I hissed at them with an icy glare, and just to spit them, I made a milk bottle for Ziva and carefully walked over to Czar.

"Do you wish to hold her?" The way his eyes shined was all the answer I needed. My family looked at me in shock, like I had committed a big betrayal. "Climb the bed, and I'll help you position her."

If looks could kill, I'd be dead right now.

"I was going to feed her. Do you want to do that with me?" He seemed so mesmerized with her. It gave me chills... remembering Igor's laser focus on me when he was all doped up. He used to give me a look close to that one on the nights he was more out of it.

I hope I don't regret this decision in the future.

At first, Czar accepted helping me give her the bottle, but halfway down, he decided he wanted to be the only one feeding her.

Throughout the last few days, I stopped breastfeeding her. Aside from my milk supply declining a lot, I've also been on a lot of meds. I don't want those to affect her, so we switched her to formula, and surprisingly, her tiny stomach is adapting well.