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The words hit me harder than I expect, but I don’t show it. I can’t.
“I understand,” I say softly, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest. “You have every right to feel that way. But, Lila, whether you believe it or not, this marriage isn’t just about me or your father. It’s about you. Your safety. Your future.”
She shakes her head, tears slipping down her cheeks as she looks away. “I don’t care. You had no right. None of you did.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to hate you for this,” she says, her voice low but full of venom. “Forever, Mikhail. For what you did to me.”
I meet her gaze, my jaw tightening. “If that’s what you need to feel, Lila, then so be it.”
Her eyes narrow, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “You don’t get to decide what I feel, Mikhail.”
“Maybe not, but someday you’ll understand,” I say.
“I won’t be there when that happens.”
A fierce wave of protectiveness washes over me. I’m not going to let go of her, ever.
“Lila,” I say, my voice low but firm.
She doesn’t turn, doesn’t even acknowledge me.
“Lila,” I repeat, sliding closer to her. “We still have to kiss.”
Her shoulders stiffen further, her head tilting slightly as if she didn’t hear me correctly. “What?”
“It’s tradition,” I say, my voice steady despite the storm brewing between us. “The vows aren’t complete until we kiss.”
She finally looks at me. “You have got to be kidding me. You think I’m going to stand here andkiss youafter everything you’ve done?”
I take another step toward her, closing the distance between us. “Yes,” I say simply. “Because you don’t have a choice.”
Her jaw drops, and for a moment, she just stares at me, her disbelief mingling with her rage.
“You’re unbelievable,” she snaps, her voice shaking. “You’ve taken everything from me, and now you want this too?”
“It’s not about what I want,” I reply, my voice calm but firm. “It’s about what has to be done.”
Her hands clench into fists, and I can see the fight in her, the war she’s waging with herself. But after a long moment, she exhales sharply, her gaze narrowing.
“Fine,” she bites out. “Let’s get this over with.”
My hands lift to frame her face. She flinches slightly at the contact but doesn’t pull away. Her skin is soft beneath my fingertips, her cheeks flushed with anger and something else.
I tilt her head up, my gaze locking onto hers. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
Her lips part, her breath hitching, but she doesn’t respond.
I lean in, my lips brushing against hers softly at first, testing, waiting for her reaction.
She stiffens, her body rigid, but she doesn’t pull away. Slowly, her lips move against mine, hesitant at first, then with more purpose. I can feel her resistance melting, the way her body relaxes ever so slightly as the kiss deepens. Her hands, whichhad been clenched at her sides, lift and press against my chest but she doesn’t push away.
When I finally pull back, her eyes flutter open, and for a brief moment, she looks at me with something other than hatred.
But then reality crashes back in and she steps away, her gaze hardening once more.
“Don’t think this changes anything,” she says, her voice cold. “I still hate you.”