Page 6 of Bride of the Bratva King (Blood & Bride #1)

There are at least a dozen small wooden figurines arranged on a shelf above the table. All of them carved with incredible detail and skill. All of them showing the same face.

Viktor's face.

My brother, captured in wood again and again and again. Some of the figurines show him smiling, others serious. One looks like him as a teenager, all sharp angles and defiant eyes. Another shows him as I remember him last—older, worried, like he was carrying the weight of the world.

"What the hell is this?" I whisper.

Alexei doesn't answer immediately. He moves to stand beside me, close enough that our shoulders are almost touching.

"Penance," he says finally.

"Penance for what?"

"For failing to save him."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I turn to stare at Alexei, trying to process what I'm seeing, what I'm hearing.

"You... you've been carving my brother's face for three years?"

"Every night."

"Why?"

"Because I can't sleep without seeing his face anyway. At least this way, I can make something beautiful out of the memory."

I reach out to touch one of the figurines—the one that looks like Viktor as a kid—then remember his warning about not touching anything. My hand hovers in the air, shaking.

"I don't understand," I say. "If you didn't kill him, if you tried to save him, why do you need penance?"

Alexei is quiet for so long I think he's not going to answer. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough with old grief.

"Because I wasn't fast enough. Because I made choices that put him in danger. Because he died believing I would keep you safe, and for three years, I didn't even know where you were."

"You were looking for me?"

"Every day."

The simple words hang in the air between us, loaded with implications I'm not ready to think about. He was looking for me. For three years, while I was planning my revenge against him, he was trying to find me.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because I promised him I would."

"Promised him what?"

Alexei turns to face me fully, and the pain in his pale green eyes makes my chest ache.

"That I would take care of you. That I would keep you safe. That I would make sure you never had to worry about money or danger or being alone in the world."

"So you bought me at an auction?"

"So I married you the only way I could, given the circumstances."

I stare at him, trying to reconcile this version of events with the story I've been telling myself for three years. The story where he's the villain and I'm the avenging angel. The story where everything is simple and clear and I know exactly who to blame.

"You're lying," I say, but there's no conviction in it.

"Why would I lie?"

"To manipulate me. To make me trust you."

"Mila." He steps closer, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. "If I wanted to manipulate you, I wouldn't have brought you in here. I wouldn't have shown you this."

He gestures toward the shelf of Viktor figurines, and I see his hands are shaking slightly.

"This is my shame," he continues. "My failure. The fact that I couldn't save the man who trusted me to protect what mattered most to him. Why would I show you that unless I was telling you the truth?"

I don't have an answer for that. Can't think of a single reason why he would expose himself like this if it was all some elaborate lie.

Which means...

Which means I've been wrong. About everything.

"I need to get out of here," I say suddenly. The room feels too small, too warm. I can't breathe.

"Mila—"

"No. I need... I need to think. I need..."

I push past him and bolt for the door, my heart hammering and my vision starting to blur around the edges. This changes everything. If Alexei didn't kill Viktor, if he tried to save him, if he's been looking for me all this time...

Then who did kill my brother? And what the hell am I doing here?

I make it to the main staircase before Alexei catches up with me, his hand gentle but firm on my arm.

"Let me go," I say, but it comes out as more of a plea than a demand.

"Not until you're breathing normally."

"I'm fine."

"You're having a panic attack."

He's right. My chest is tight, my hands are shaking, and I feel like I'm drowning in confusion and grief and a strange, unwelcome hope.

"Come here," Alexei says softly, and before I can protest, he pulls me into his arms.

I should fight him. Should push him away and demand answers and refuse to be comforted by the man who turned my world upside down.

Instead, I bury my face in his chest and let him hold me while I fall apart.

He smells like cedar and wood shavings and something uniquely him. His arms are strong and warm around me, and his heart is beating steady and sure against my cheek.

"It's going to be okay," he murmurs into my hair. "I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but it's going to be okay."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm going to make sure it is."

The certainty in his voice makes something in my chest clench tight. This man who's been carving my brother's face every night for three years. This man who's been looking for me since Viktor died. This man who spent three million dollars to make sure I was safe.

"I don't know what to believe anymore," I whisper.

"Then don't believe anything yet," he says. "Just let me show you. Let me prove to you that I'm not your enemy."

I pull back just enough to look up at him, and the expression on his face makes my breath catch. There's pain there, and guilt, and something that looks almost like...

Like love.

"Starting with our wedding?" I ask.

"Starting with our wedding."

And God help me, but when he looks at me like that, like I'm something precious and fragile and worth protecting, I almost want to say yes.