Page 25

Sarah

Two days have passed since that nightmare, but it feels like a lifetime. I lie in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, my body numb, my mind replaying the events over and over like a broken record. The betrayal from my mother, the terror of Leo’s attack, and the sickening finality of watching him die—all of it swirls in my head, leaving me feeling hollow and lifeless.

How did it all come to this? How did my life become such a twisted, tragic mess?

The weight of it presses down on me, making it hard to breathe. I thought I’d escaped my past, but it caught up with me, dragging me back into a darkness I thought I’d left behind. Now, all I can do is lie here, consumed by the wreckage of it all, unable to find a way out.

The door creaks open, and I don’t have to look to know it’s Ivan. His presence is something I’ve come to recognize instantly, a mix of strength and intensity that fills the room. He moves quietly, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside me. I feel the mattress dip under his weight, but I don’t move, don’t acknowledge him. I’m too lost in my thoughts, too drained to do anything but exist in this moment.

Ivan doesn’t say anything at first. He just sits there, his hand resting gently on my arm, a steadying presence in the chaos of my mind. After a moment, he speaks, his voice low and calm. “It’s over, Sarah. You’re safe now.”

I hear the words, but they don’t quite register. Safe. The word feels foreign, almost meaningless. I’ve spent so long feeling anything but safe, and now, even with Leo gone, the fear and pain still cling to me like a second skin.

“I don’t feel safe,” I whisper, my voice barely audible, as if admitting it out loud makes it more real. “I feel… empty. Like everything inside me is broken.”

Ivan’s hand tightens slightly on my arm, a silent offering of comfort. “You’ve been through a lot,” he says, his tone softening in a way I’m not used to from him. “You’re stronger than you think, Sarah. You survived.”

I close my eyes, trying to find some solace in his words, but all I can see is my mother’s face, the desperation in her eyes as she betrayed me once again, and the sickening realization that Leo, the boy I once loved, had turned into a monster. “Why does everything have to end so tragically?” I ask, more to myself than to Ivan. “Why couldn’t it have been different?”

Ivan doesn’t have an answer for that. Maybe there isn’t one. Instead, he shifts slightly, his voice hardening as he continues. “We got your mother,” he says, the words cutting through the haze in my mind. “She won’t hurt you again. I want her dead, Sarah. After everything she’s done….”

The declaration hangs in the air, heavy and cold, but it doesn’t stir the anger I thought it might. Instead, it just deepens the hollowness inside me. My mother has caused me so much pain, so much suffering, but the thought of her dying… it doesn’t bring me any comfort. It just feels like another tragedy in a life filled with them.

I turn my head slightly, finally meeting Ivan’s gaze. His eyes are dark, intense, filled with a protective fury that I know is for me. He’s ready to do whatever it takes to keep me safe, to erase any threat to my life, but this… this isn’t the answer.

“No,” I say quietly, my voice firm despite the exhaustion that weighs me down. “Don’t kill her, Ivan.”

He looks at me, his brows furrowing in confusion. “After everything she’s done, you want to let her live?”

“Yes,” I whisper, feeling the weight of my decision settle over me. “Her life… it’s already a punishment. She’s lost everything, she’s pitiful, and that’s worse than death. Let her go, Ivan. Let her live with what she’s done.”

Ivan watches me closely, searching my face for any sign of doubt, but I hold his gaze, resolute in my decision. I won’t let this cycle of violence continue. I won’t let my mother’s death be another weight on my already burdened soul.

After a moment, he nods, his expression softening slightly. “If that’s what you want,” he says, his voice gentle.

“It is,” I reply, closing my eyes again, feeling the tension slowly start to drain from my body. “I just want to move on. I want to focus on our daughter, on our life… not on the past.”

Ivan leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “Then that’s what we’ll do,” he murmurs. “We’ll move forward.”

For a moment, neither of us speaks. The silence stretches between us, filled with the weight of everything that’s happened. Finally, Ivan reaches out, his hand brushing a stray lock of hair away from my face. His touch is warm, grounding, and it takes everything in me not to break down all over again.

“It’s over now,” he says softly, his voice a low rumble that somehow manages to calm the chaos inside me. “No one’s going to hurt you. Not as long as I’m alive.”

His words are meant to comfort me, and they do, but they also stir something inside me—a question that’s been gnawing at me since this all began. I turn my gaze to him, searching his eyes for answers. “Why?” I ask bluntly, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why are you doing this?”

He looks at me, confusion flickering across his features. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you protecting me?” I continue, my tone more insistent now. “Is it because I’m the mother of your child, or because I’m some prize you think you won from the enemy?”

His expression hardens slightly at my words, but I can see the emotion behind his eyes, the struggle to find the right response. I sit up a little, my heart pounding as I continue, needing to understand. “All my life, I’ve been used by people. My mother, Kace, even Leo. Am I just another tool to you? Is that why you protect me, because you see some use in me?”

For a moment, he’s silent, his jaw tight as he considers my words. Then, finally, he speaks, his voice low and filled with something I can’t quite name. “No,” he says, his tone resolute. “It’s not about that, Sarah.”

I wait, my heart in my throat, as he searches my face for a moment longer before he finally says the words that change everything. “Because I’m in love with you.”

The confession hangs in the air, and I feel like the ground has been pulled out from under me. I stare at him, my mind reeling, trying to process what he’s just said. In love? With me? I search his eyes, looking for any sign that he’s lying, that this is just another way to manipulate me. All I see is sincerity, raw and undeniable.

My breath catches in my throat, and for a long moment, I don’t know what to say. I’ve spent so long guarding my heart, so long believing that love was something that could only hurt me, that hearing those words from Ivan is almost too much to take in.

“Ivan…,” I begin, my voice trembling, but I can’t find the words to express what I’m feeling. It’s too much, too overwhelming.

He reaches out, his hand cupping my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear I didn’t even realize had fallen. “I know it’s hard to believe,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost tender. “It’s the truth, Sarah. I’ve tried to fight it, to keep it at bay, but I can’t anymore. I love you.”

His words wash over me, breaking down the walls I’ve built around my heart, and for the first time in a long time, I let myself feel—really feel. The weight of his confession, the truth in his eyes, it all crashes into me, and before I can stop myself, I lean in, pressing my lips to his in a tender kiss.

He responds immediately, his hand slipping to the back of my neck, pulling me closer as our lips move together in a slow, deliberate dance. The kiss is gentle, yet filled with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. It’s as if all the pain, all the fear, melts away in that moment, replaced by something deeper, something real.

When we finally pull back, I rest my forehead against his, my breath mingling with his as we sit there, holding on to each other like lifelines. “I love you too,” I whisper, the words slipping out before I can think, before I can second-guess myself.

He pulls back slightly to look at me, his eyes searching mine as if he’s trying to make sure he heard me right. “You do?”

I nod, feeling a tear slide down my cheek. “I do,” I say, my voice trembling with the weight of the truth. “I’ve been so scared, so guarded, but… I can’t deny it anymore. I love you, Ivan. I think I’ve loved you for longer than I’ve been willing to admit.”

His eyes soften, and he pulls me into his arms, holding me close, as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go. I bury my face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him, letting the warmth of his embrace soothe the raw edges of my heart.

In that moment, with his arms around me, I feel something I haven’t felt in a long time—hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, we can build something real, something lasting, out of all the darkness and pain.

I shift slightly in Ivan’s embrace, tilting my head up to look into his eyes. The intensity there, the raw emotion, takes my breath away. Without thinking, I lean in again, pressing my lips to his with a renewed urgency, a desperate need to feel closer to him, to make this moment last.

He responds instantly, his hands tightening around me as he deepens the kiss. It’s no longer the gentle, tentative kiss we shared just moments ago. This is something more, something filled with all the passion and longing that’s been building between us for so long. His lips move against mine, firm and demanding, and I feel a surge of heat course through me, igniting a fire that I can’t contain.

I let out a soft moan, and before I know it, I’m pulling him down with me, guiding him onto the bed so that we lie side by side. My hands slide up his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath my fingers, and I press myself closer, needing to be as close to him as possible. His hand moves to the small of my back, holding me against him, and I can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s barely holding himself back.

“Ivan,” I whisper against his lips, my voice trembling with a mixture of desire and something deeper, something more tender. “I need you.”

He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. “I’m here,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

I smile, a small, grateful smile, and I kiss him again, pouring everything I have into it. His hand slides up my back, tangling in my hair as he pulls me even closer, our bodies pressing together in a way that makes me feel like we’re two halves of the same whole. It’s overwhelming, intoxicating, and I can’t get enough of him.

As we kiss, the heat between us builds, and I can feel his hand moving lower, tracing the curve of my hip, sending shivers down my spine. I arch into him, wanting more, needing more, and he responds with a low growl, his lips trailing down my neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

My fingers tangle in his hair, holding him to me as he kisses his way down to my collarbone, his touch driving me wild with need. I tug at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against mine, and he quickly pulls it off, discarding it without a second thought. The sight of him, his body taut with muscle and desire, takes my breath away, and I can’t help but reach out to touch him, to trace the lines of his chest, his abs, marveling at the strength that lies beneath.

He pulls me back into another kiss, his hands roaming over my body with a reverence that makes my heart ache. As our kisses grow more heated, more intense, I feel something shift between us—something that goes beyond the physical, something that feels like the beginning of something new.

Eventually, we pull back, both of us breathless, our foreheads resting against each other as we try to catch our breath. I look up at him, my heart swelling with a love that I never thought I’d be capable of feeling again. “I was thinking,” I say softly, my voice a little shaky but full of emotion. “About the baby’s name.”

He raises an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden shift in conversation, but he nods, waiting for me to continue.

“I know it’s taken us too long to decide. With so much going on…. But I want to name her something Russian,” I say, my voice steadying as I speak. “Something that honors where she comes from. What do you think about… Yelena?”

His eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, he just looks at me, a mixture of surprise and something else—something tender—in his expression. “Yelena,” he repeats, the name rolling off his tongue with a softness that I’ve rarely heard from him. “It’s beautiful.”

I smile, a warmth spreading through my chest at his approval. “I think it suits her,” I say, feeling a sense of rightness settle over me. “And it connects her to you, to her heritage.”

Ivan’s hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing over my skin in a way that makes my heart flutter. “Yelena it is,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a deep affection that makes my eyes sting with unshed tears.

I lean in, kissing him softly, and as we lie there, wrapped up in each other, I feel something shift inside me. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I belong. Not just to Ivan, but to this family we’re creating together. As I hold him close, I know that whatever challenges lie ahead, we’ll face them together.