Page 79 of Crown Of Blood

He says it like it's the simplest, most obvious thing in the world. But I know what it costs—a lifetime tied to someone he doesn't know, someone he might have to use or destroy for the family. He's sacrificing any future chance at a quiet life, a chosen love. He's sacrificing himself formypeace.

I study him for a long moment, taking in the steady refusal in his eyes. "You're sure, Sandro?"

He nods once, hard, unblinking. "For the family. For her."

He doesn't have to specify which "her" he means. I know it's Sofia who needs stability. Knowing he can give that to her would have him do anything. I lean back in the chair, running a hand over my face, the faintest hint of reluctant pride—and a burning sense of debt—tugging at my chest.

"Then it's settled," I say, the finality of the decision heavy. "I'll send the name before sundown. We start making preparationsimmediately. No fanfare. No leaks. Rafe will vet everything about this girl—her habits, her friends, her favorite brand of vodka."

He nods, turns to leave, and pauses at the door, his hand on the knob.

"When Volkov's daughter arrives," he says quietly, his voice a low, lethal hum, "we'll show them that peace doesn't mean weakness. It means we own a piece of their foundation now."

The door closes behind him, leaving me alone again. The silence is profound.

I glance at the framed photo on my desk—Sofia in her play costume, her face lit with pure, innocent joy, Isabella's bruised but loving hand brushing her cheek in the aftermath. Two reasons I can't afford another war.

And one promise, made at an immense personal cost, that might just save us all.