Page 61 of Only for Him (Starkov Bratva #1)

The bar hums with a low murmur that makes everything else feel muted, like I’ve stepped into an alternate reality. In some ways, I have.

In this reality, I can go for a drink with Teddy without Roman threatening to eviscerate him.

I swirl my whiskey, watching the ice clink against the glass, and remember the last time this happened.

Me and Teddy reuniting, getting a casual drink together, laughing at old jokes.

Me looking around the bar for the man I didn’t yet know was Roman.

My heart skipping every time I wondered what he meant by punishment.

Make no mistake. Even though he no longer sees Teddy as a threat, that old, primal, possessive jealousy will never leave.

I don’t want it to.

I fucking love it.

But if we’re going to make this work, he has to trust that I’m his.

And if he doesn’t—if he decides I need reminding—well, I’m not exactly opposed to that, either.

I’m getting a little wet just thinking about it. Roman is disturbingly inventive when it comes to pain. Even more so when it comes to pleasure.

As though reading my mind from a borough away, my burner phone buzzes.

You’re lucky I let you out of my sight, little viper. You know what happens if he even thinks about touching you.

I bite my lip, even wetter now as I imagine what he’d do to me if I stayed out later than I promised.

I’m half tempted to do it, just to see.

But no, he’s still technically on bed rest.

I mean, we could stay in bed…

“Giselle.” Teddy’s voice breaks through the fog, warm and familiar. He slides into the seat across from me and leans back, crossing his arms. He’s trying for cool, but there’s a tightness in his shoulders I can’t ignore. I shoot off a reassuring text to Roman before giving Teddy my full attention.

“Hell of a case, huh?” he says, tone breezy. It doesn’t land.

The weight of what we’ve done settles over the table like a secondhand coat—familiar enough to wear, heavy enough to regret.

“One less monster in the world,” I say.

“How does it feel?” Teddy’s words hang.

I’m not even sure what he’s asking about specifically. Killing Pavel? Avenging Serena? Returning to the force thanks to the convenient narrative we sold, pinning Russo’s death on Pavel and, in the process, exposing Russo’s long-standing ties to the Starkov Bratva?

“Weird,” I finally say with a shrug. “Good, I guess.”

“Shit, Giselle.” He shakes his head, crooked grin bringing out his dimples. “After all that? I’d hope it feels better than good. This has been how many years in the making, exactly?”

I return his grin despite myself. I know Teddy thinks I’m too doom and gloom, too angry.

That’s why I need Roman.

He understands me. Hell, he loves my rage.

“Fine. It’s a relief,” I say. “And I’m probably a little bit in shock. I never thought I’d finally get justice for her. But it didn’t bring her back. It’s not like I thought it would, but I guess I hoped it might make something feel whole again. I don’t know.”

I realize I’ve been turning Serena’s earring as I spoke, but I don’t drop my hand.

I don’t want to hide anything anymore.

“I do,” Teddy says quietly, eyes softening. “And I didn’t get to say this before, but I’m sorry. About Russo.”

“Yeah,” I chew my straw. “Another thing to grieve. Not him, just the man I thought he was. His wife reached out, invited me over for dinner. Maybe it’ll help, talking to someone who understands what it’s like. Loving a man who did unlovable things.”

“Good,” Teddy says. “It’s good to have people who understand you.”

A strange yearning flickers across his face. The conversation pauses as the bartender reups our drinks.

“So. You’re going to lead a specialized task force,” I say, more as a question than a statement.

“Yeah.” He exhales like it’s still sinking in. “Pavel’s death was just the beginning. We arrested a lot of fuckers already, but someone’s already making moves on his properties—someone powerful. Maybe dangerous. We have to move fast. People in power don’t go quietly,”

“Is that why you’re stepping up?” I ask.

“Someone needs to steer this ship,” he says, dripping with that trademark Teddy sincerity. “Arata’s coming onboard. And, well, you know about Roman.”

“He told me he’ll be your inside man. Covert ops,” I murmur, the gravity of it sinking in. “Lots of lines being blurred here.”

“You’d know,” Teddy says. “You’ve become the queen of blurred lines.”

“Excuse me, but I’ve always been the queen of blurred lines,” I shoot back, and we laugh. It feels good to do that. Laughter is an underrated part of being alive.

And, for the first time in years, laughing doesn’t feel like betraying Serena.

I’ll miss her for the rest of my life, but without her unsolved case taking up real estate in my head, I’m discovering parts of myself that I thought died with her.

For some reason, that makes me think of Dakota. Maybe because I don’t know if I ever heard her really laugh.

“How’s Dakota?” I ask. “Is she okay?”

That look crosses his face again. Complicated and a little raw.

“She’s safe. I’m looking after her.” He shifts uncomfortably, almost defensively.

“Hey,” I say. “You’re good at taking care of people, Teddy. If she has to have someone watching over her, I’m glad it’s you.”

He gives a slight nod, and I can almost see the effort it takes him to return to baseline. I know Teddy. Something’s up. But I also know that if he says she’s safe, then she’s safe.

“And I’m glad you found someone who can keep up with you,” he adds, but there’s a protective edge to his tone. “Just make sure he doesn’t lead you too far into the dark.”

“He won’t,” I say, because I can’t say that he was never really leading me anywhere I wasn’t already headed. I was always on a collision course. He just kept me company as I sped towards it.

Okay, and maybe greased the wheels a little bit.

The burner buzzes again and my belly warms. I’m sure, by now, there’s evidence of what Roman does to me on my panties.

Don’t you dare keep me waiting. I’d hate to have to teach you a lesson about that.

Oh, god. I think I’m drooling. Everything around me disappears for a moment, and I shift in my seat to accommodate the throbbing ache between my thighs.

When I look up, I see that Teddy’s watching me closely. I blush. His eyes narrow, then soften with something like approval.

“I know Roman just got back home, so I’ll let this one slide,” he says. “But we’re going to keep fighting this together. Minimal distractions from here on out. Remember, they’re ruthless, and their reach doesn’t stop at family.”

I nod, a quiet spark of resolve lighting in my chest.

I know some part of me will never rest. As long as there are men out there trading in girls, I will have rage. And as long as I have rage, I have purpose.

And as long as I have Roman, I can deal with everything else.

The darkness is still there, right outside this bar. The uncertainty, too. But so is something else: something alive and sharp with purpose.

In this fucked-up game, that might just be enough.

THE END