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Dario adjusts his hold on her, and for a brief moment, I see the same terror reflected in his eyes.
Then, from the corner of my eye, I see both twins move. They are quick, moving in a synchronised way that is almost unsettling.
Nikolai’s hand reaches out for Chiara’s wrist as he checks for a pulse, and Mikhail hovers close, looking down at her like he might lose his mind if she does not wake up at this immediate moment.
I look at both men, searching their faces for any signs of doubt after everything that has been revealed, but I find nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
At this moment, they are looking to keep Chiara safe too.
“Get her on the sofa!” Mikhail barks out. “I’ll call someone to come in to check on Chiara.”
I hate it.
I despise that they are here, that they have played their part in contributing to this hell.
But I cannot deny what is evident in front of me.
These men care about my daughter.
I see it in the way they act quickly; how they frantically check her, and the way their rapid breaths catch in their throats.
This is not just for show. They really are desperate.
They want Chiara to be okay.
But why?
Why do these Bratva men care for her so much? Why is my daughter so important to them, even after everything that has been revealed?
The thought gnaws at me, twisting deep in my gut.
There is too much that I do not understand. There is too much that does not add up.
These Russians have torn us all apart, and yet these twins, men who should be my enemies for taking my daughter, are so protective over her.
As Dario continues to look over at Chiara, and so does Nikolai and Mikhail, I find my eyes moving to look at Isaak. He stands there, watching this entire scene unfold in front of him. His expression has not changed—it is still as hard as it is unyielding—but there is also something else there.
Something that feels like loss.
Hisloss.
Rage rises in my chest again, but this time, it is not just aimed at him.
It is aimed ateverything.
All of it.
The lies.
The deceit.
The broken promises.
We are all part of this same twisted game, each of us losing something in this damn mess.
And for what?