Page 79

CHARLOTTE

I check the laptop again.

It’s the hundredth time in an hour, and I still don’t have a reply.

Each second that ticks by claws at my nerves, whispering something’s wrong. My fingernails are chewed down to nothing, and when the television dares to make noise, I kill it with a sharp jab of the remote.

“Here. Eat something.” Declan appears from the kitchen, holding out a sandwich.

“I’m not hungry,” I mutter, my stomach growling like a traitor.

His brow lifts, and he pushes it closer. “Don’t lie to me.”

That voice, it’s not angry. It’s just truth. Hard, clean, undeniable.

“Eat. You need your strength.”

My fingers twitch. I cave, taking a bite. Fresh greens and turkey hit my tongue, and I moan.

“He’s always on his damn phone, Dec.” My nails tap an angry rhythm on the table.

“Maybe he’s busy,” he says, leaning back. “Didn’t you say he’s got ten jobs?”

“He does. Lawyer. He’s helping Tatiana recover. Homeschooling Isabella. Training me. Security for Vlad. You name it, he does it.” I pause, jaw tightening. “He always replies. This silence? It’s not him.”

His eyes narrow. “You look up to him.”

“You could say that.” I reach out and squeeze his shoulder. “But there’s only one man I’ve ever wanted. And I’m looking at him.”

That earns me a wicked curve of his mouth.

“Is that right?” he murmurs, stealing a bite of my sandwich before holding it back up. “Eat.”

I obey.

“Good girl.”

Heat shoots through me. My cheeks betray me and go warm.

“Is there a way I can log into my personal emails?” I ask, wiping my hands. “There’s something I want to download.”

“Yeah. Secure server. Go ahead.” He nods, pushing the laptop back in front of me.

As I log in, my pulse spikes. The second the inbox loads, I go straight for the email I sent myself, backup files. Insurance. Proof that she’s real, safe, loved.

I click on the photo.

There she is. My girl.

Isabella.

Tears race down my cheeks before I can stop them. My thumb hovers over her face on the screen.

“Is that?—?”

Declan sucks in a slow, shaking breath.

I nod.

He moves in behind me, hands gripping my waist, eyes locked on the screen like it holds salvation.

“My little girl.” His voice is gravel. “She’s beautiful. Just like her momma.”

I reach up and touch his jaw, soft and slow.

“Did you ever want kids?” I whisper, flicking to the next picture. Isabella is surrounded by her army of teddies, beaming so big it makes my chest ache.

“I hadn’t thought about it,” he says, voice rough. “In this life, you don’t plan. You just survive.”

I know that truth better than anyone.

“Sometimes, I’d just sit at night and watch her sleep,” I admit, the words catching in my throat. “And I’d wonder where you were. If you’d moved on. If you had your own kids. If you were happy.”

He closes his eyes.

“One of my biggest regrets in life will always be the fact I never came for you.”

“We can live our what if ,” I say quietly. “Just... delayed.”

The next photo loads. A selfie of me kissing her cheek, her little face scrunched in a perfect pout. I remember Drago letting me take all of these in her nursery on his phone.

“She pulls the same faces as you,” I say, smiling through the tears.

Declan sniffles and tightens his arms around me.

“She looks happy. Healthy. You’ve done an incredible job, heartbreaker.”

He pulls me into his lap, and I curl into him like it’s the only place I still make sense.

Ping.

The laptop lights up with a new email.

My breath lodges in my throat.

I hesitate. Just one word. That’s all I sent him.

Voitelnitsa. Warrior.

His reply slams through me like a gunshot.

“Two hours.”

Beneath it, a secured email. One contact number.

“Do you trust him?” Declan asks, his fingers sweeping my hair aside like silk.

“With my life,” I answer, no hesitation.

He nods. “Everyone’s meeting us in Inferno in an hour. Finn. Conan. Even Enzo and Mikhail are flying in.”

I turn in his lap and straddle him, nerves coiling tight.

“You want me there? When you explain?”

“You think I’m facing this storm without you?” he says, one brow raised.

“But your brothers?—”

“Conan is less mad, more amused. Just don’t pull a gun on him again.”

I grin. “Promise.” I cross my heart, and he grabs it, kissing the spot like sealing a vow.

“Want the grand tour first?” he asks, voice low.

I shake my head, biting the inside of my cheek.

“Can I see all of Inferno... master ?” My voice dips, teasing.

He smirks, eyes gleaming.

“I don’t see a golden ticket.”

“I won by default. Why the Decadence Games?”

That’s the question that’s been burning in my throat since this all began.

“So many questions,” he says, leaning in, brushing his lips against mine. “Let me show you.”

“Okay,” I breathe.

And this time, I let him kiss me like we’ve got a war to win. But tonight, we’re still allowed to feel alive.