Page 56 of Beautifully Damned (Sinful Fates #2)
AYLA
My hand stretches across the bed, searching for Roman, but finds nothing but cold sheets. Panic strikes me, and my eyes snap open. Then the scent of something warm and savory drifts in from the kitchen, and a tremor of relief slides down my spine.
He didn’t leave me this time. I swing my legs over the bed and pad to the bathroom. Steam rises around me as the warm water hits my skin, carrying away the tension and soreness left from the night.
The shower door opens, and Roman stands there with his arms crossed.
“I wanted to surprise you,” he grumbles. “Breakfast in bed.”
I step out, wrapping my towel tightly around me, squeezing water from my hair.
“Thank you,” I tell him. “It’s the thought that counts.”
He presses his lips to my shoulder in a kiss before scooping me up, carrying me back to the bed. I can’t help the laugh that bursts from me as I land, and the towel slips. I clutch it, eyes wide and cheeks warm.
“Don’t move,” he warns, heading to the kitchen. “I’ll get your breakfast.”
He returns with a tray stacked with eggs, pancakes, and French toast, syrup glistening. He sets the tray on my lap and sits beside me.
“I had no idea you could cook this well,” I say around the bite.
He eats from the same fork. “I couldn’t have not learned,” he says quietly. “Food always mattered. I couldn’t afford not to know.”
I swallow, feeling the omelet stick slightly in my throat. He has endured so much, carried so much.
“You’re really good at it,” I say. He grins, shoving more bites into my mouth, and I let him.
“Do you know what’s more delicious than this?” he asks, raising a brow.
“What?” I mimic the gesture, raising one brow.
“You,” he says simply. He pushes the tray aside and leans into me, mouth attacking my neck and jawline. I feel the heat of him press through the towel. My pulse hammers as my body stiffens in anticipation. Then my phone rings from somewhere in the house, breaking the spell.
“I need to see who’s calling,” I murmur, pushing him away reluctantly. As I walk to answer the phone, I feel the echo of him behind me.
When I see Elena’s name on the screen, a little of the dread in my stomach loosens. I sink into the couch, Roman settling beside me.
“Mrs. Volkov,” Elena’s voice sighs through the line.
“You’re not on speaker, Elena,” I murmur, fingers tangling in my damp hair.
“Ayla,” she shifts immediately. “Pakhan with you, da ?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. Everything’s fine,” I assure her. Even with all his darkness, his brutal control over the Bratva, they still care about him deeply.
“Thank God. He eat? Still get fever?” Elena’s words tumble.
“Yes, and no fever,” I say, tightening the towel around me when it threatens to slip again, avoiding Roman’s gaze.
“Okay, perfect. Listen, Ayla,” she hurries on.
“I’m listening,” I say through a yawn.
“Pakhan not respond calls. Viktor—he call nonstop for deal approval. Mikhail, he try, but no one, no one like Pakhan. Lola—she take more work. Bad, da ? She maybe pregnant.”
Pregnant. The word hits me like ice. Lola and Mikhail’s child would be beautiful… and chaotic. My hands instinctively go to my stomach. I’ve had unprotected sex two times. Could I…? My breakfast feels heavy, suddenly cloying.
“Okay, Elena. I will tell Roman to get back to him,” I say, voice tight.
“Yes, please, you do,” she urges, the metallic clang of dishes and the rush of water coming faintly from her background. “Pakhan never neglect Bratva. He live, breathe, eat Bratva. You bring him back. People smell opportunity… take advantage.”
She’s right. Roman has been here, in my world, turning his life over to me. Cooking, cleaning, worshipping, waiting. I have pulled him away from his responsibilities.
I swallow, feeling the gravity of the decision I’m about to make settle. I will leave vet school if I have to. I will step back into his world, into the chaos he rules, into the hard lines of his life that I have no right to soften, but somehow, I am meant to.
Because I belong with him. To him. To his world. To be the soft to his hard. The quiet to his storm. To love while he destroys, to care while he builds, and to take my place beside him, fully, entirely. I am meant to rule beside him, to soften the beast that he is. And rule beside him I will.
Elena has closed the line, and I put my phone down.
“Roman,” I start, “we should really go back to the Bratva.”
He frowns, brows pulling together. “Ayla… what about your school?”
“I’ve been trying to chase my dream, but… ruling beside you, helping you, protecting the Bratva… it’s become my dream too. I can’t ignore it anymore. Besides, I joined vet school late, I’m behind in my courses. And I miss the Bratva.”
“You don’t have to give it up. I can step back. I can leave everything to Viktor. My title, my control… I know Mikhail would never want it. You focus on your dream, and I’ll stay here, with you. I’ll carry everything else.”
My chest tightens at just how much he’s willing to give up for me.
“You don’t have to. Maybe we can find a closer campus?
But not now. Now all I want is to focus on the Bratva.
I… I hate how much I’ve grown to care about it.
All my life, all I wanted was to leave the underground.
And now I’m struggling to even think about walking away. ”
“Ayla… this house is in your name. If things get too much, if the Bratva overwhelms you… this is your line of safety. You can breathe here, and I’ll stay. I’ll wait, I’ll guard, and I’ll fight. Whatever you need.”
He bought the house for me? Put it in my name?
It’s a twisted kind of sweet, how he wants to ensure I have a warm refuge when the blood becomes too much.
I’ve spent so long hating this world, hating the underground, wanting out.
And now, I realize I’ve already gone too far to leave.
I’ve come to care, to love it, to love him—and I can’t imagine life without both.
“Viktor’s been trying to reach you,” I say slowly. “He’s been calling nonstop about a deal. Mikhail is holding things together, but you’re the only one they trust fully. You’ve been… distracted.”
“I know. I’ve been distracted,” he admits. “For you. Everything else… it can wait. I can give Viktor the authority to handle it. I can step away from the Bratva until you finish school, if that’s what you want.” He offers again.
I shake my head. “No. You’re not stepping away. And I don’t want to finish without you. I want to pause school for now. Later, we will figure out how to do both.”
“Then we pause. Whatever choice you make, Ayla. I’m always with you.”
I exhale, relief and surrender washing through me. The underground, the danger, the weight of the Bratva—it doesn’t scare me as much when he’s here. When I realize that I’ve already chosen this life, this man, this chaos as mine.