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My last thought before unconsciousness claims me is that maybe this is better. Maybe this way, he won’t have to live with pulling the trigger. The black takes me before I can find out if I’m right.
I’m not sure what’s worse: knowing she’s hurting herself more with every step or knowing that what she’s running from is me.
“I’m going to kill whoever did this to you.” But only because they beat you to it, right? Because someone else broke the toy that was yours to shatter?
Let myself imagine, just for a heartbeat, that we could be something other than what we are: A mafia prince and his latest victim. A captor and his prey. A man who kills traitors and the woman who betrayed him.
“Ya ne pozvolyu nikomu tebya obizhet’.” I will never let anyone hurt you again.
“Ya ne mogu tebya poteryat,” I whisper into her hair. I can’t lose you.
Instead, I hold her tighter and whisper more dangerous truths into the dark. “Ya budu zashchishchat tebya vechno.” I will protect you forever.
For years, I’ve built walls of wealth and violence, collecting power like ammunition. Every decision calculated to expand my control, to ensure no one could ever make me weak. Now, I find myself dismantling those walls, brick by brick, to let this woman breathe.
“When things get dark—when you’re scared or overwhelmed—don’t shut me out.” I thread our fingers together. “Let me be your strength until you find your own again.”
“I’ll take you to the edge. But I’ll never, ever hurt you, Nova Pierce.”
“There,” he says, voice rough and deep. “One less thing to stress about. You don’t have to worry about getting pregnant anymore.” His hand reaches for my stomach but stops just shy of touching. “Because if you’re not already, you soon will be.”
“Mine,” he growls against my lips, his voice thick with possessiveness. “All mine. To fill. To breed.”
Some things are meant to stay fractured. Some men are meant to stay damned. And sometimes, love isn’t enough to save us.
I tell myself I’m nothing like my father. But maybe we’re just different shades of the same toxic fucking color.
I keep my spine straight, refusing to turn until Jonathan has already extended his hand to my father, the two of them shaking over my shoulder. Only then do I look, meeting my father’s cold blue eyes as they lock onto mine with predatory interest.
“Be mad. Be fucking furious. But be mine.”
“Zaychik.” His voice breaks on the endearment. “How do you see straight through my armor?” “Because I recognize the cracks.” I press my lips to his throat. “They match mine.”
But I’m going to fucking make it up to her. I’m going to take the punishment I’ve earned and then give her the apologies and the happy endings that she has earned. Because Nova Pierce is my woman, goddammit. She is my family and my future and I’m never going to leave her alone again. Not. Fucking. Once.
All this time, all these resources, all my careful planning… The best IT team in the world at my disposal, surveillance networks spanning continents, decades of Bratva connections… And who’s responsible for tracking down Katerina? A pint-sized dog walker and her busy-bodied best friend.
“Duh. He’s walking, talking book boyfriend material. Ink, muscle, danger—the unholy trinity. My lady bits are doing the mambo.”
“The man moves mountains for you. His methods are questionable as fuck, but his devotion isn’t. I’m here living large literally just because he wanted to see you smile.”
The quiet strength it takes to remain soft in a hard world. To choose kindness over cruelty, time and time again.
Everything the man tried to make me—selfish, callous, violent, cruel—lives on in the second son. Ilya is what Leonid wanted. But me? I’m not. Not anymore. Not ever again.
