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Nikolai nods, adding to his brother’s words.
“She’ll always be happy with us.”
Always.
Damn them for meaning it.
Leaning back into my chair, I feel the tension slowly leave me.
It doesn’t mean that I trust them—fuck no—but…I believe them.
And somehow, that’s even worse.
“If you hurt her,” I say in a low voice. “That’s it. I don’t care who you are, and I don’t care what power you’ve got—I’ll come for you both.”
Mikhail winks in my direction.
“We would expect nothing less.”
Nikolai agrees.
“True. It’s what a brother should say.”
My jaw tightens.
I’m her brother. Her protector. And now…I’m supposed to let her go.
Chiara’s hand tightens around mine again, and I glance over at her, finding her smiling softly at me.
I somehow find it in me to smile back at my little sister too.
Even if I hate it—this situation, this arrangement—I’ll accept it.
What more can I do when these two men bring my sister happiness?
Isaak
The door shuts behind us both.
Francesco takes a seat at the desk, and I take a seat across from him.
As he pours two glasses of whiskey, he slides one across to me.
“Peace.”
I say simply.
Francesco eyes his drink before he downs it in one go, slamming the glass to the desk before he looks at me.
“Easy for you to say.” He almost sneers. “You are not losing your daughter.”
For a moment, just a breath long, I see it.
The flash of regret.
The weight of choices that were made many long years ago.
I throw back the vodka, letting the burn scorch down my throat.