Page 70 of Unbroken

It feels like hell.

Guilt clings to me like a second skin. I feel inadequate, tainted.

But if I’m being honest… I didn’t feel worthy of love even when Mariah was alive.

The drive back to my place is quiet. When we get to my car, Vadka opens the door for me like always. I slide into the seat as he mindlessly reaches across to buckle me in. He checks it, pulls on it as if to make sure it’s secure, and then stands with a satisfiednod.

He’s always been like this—a caretaker. Not hard like Rafail, cold like Semyon, or a little unhinged like Matvei. No. Vadka’s a protector.

And maybe… just maybe, I need to let someone take care of me. Something warm and unfamiliar unfurls in my chest.

“Heading into the office?” I ask, my voice strangely husky.

He nods, eyes flicking away. “Yeah. Eventually. I’ve got a few things to deal with. Need to talk to Rafail. Matvei intercepted communication. We’ve got to review it.”

I nod and shrug. “Sounds good.”

I shove my hands deep into my coat pockets—one of those futile gestures that hides too much, even from myself.

“Drive safe,” he says, voice quiet again. “You coming by tonight?”

He catches himself. “No, wait—you’re working.” His eyes flicker with something like disappointment. Hope? I can’t tell.

“Maybe after work,” I say, but it comes out more like a question than an answer.

He leans in, bracing his arm on the car door, his warm brown eyes searching mine. “You’d be safer with me.”

Would I? Physically, yes. Emotionally, I’m not so sure.

“I’ll think about it,” I murmur.

“Ruthie, if you?—”

“Vadka,” I cut him off gently. “Please. I know youwant me safe. But this… this is new. I’ve never gone home to a man in my life. Not like this.”

Especially one who was married to my sister.God.

“It’s not about that,” he says, shaking his head slowly. “God, I don’t mean it like that.”

I look away, startled at the sharp sting of rejection.

“Ruthie,” he says, softer this time. “Listen. The closer we stay, the easier it is for me to protect you.”

“You’ve got guards at the bar, yes?” I ask.

He sighs through clenched teeth. “Yes.”

“I’ve got location sharing on. You can track me.”

“I know, Ruthie, but?—”

“I’m not one of the Kopolovs, Vadka,” I tell him gently. I’m not one of their wives, a Bratva princess, or even someone who works for them.

“Well aware, Ruth Marie.” My heart does a little flip in my chest even as I narrow my eyes. “Oh, so we’re pulling out middle names now? Getting all big brotherly now?”

We both know there’s nothing big brotherly about it.

“You’re so fucking stubborn,” he growls.