Page 99 of Scarred Angel

VALENTINA

Love.

I…lovehim?

I love him.

After a night of tossing and turning, hyperventilating into my pillow, and counting the tiny grooves on my ceiling like a lunatic, I came to one terrifying, exhilarating realization.

I’m in love with Maksim Belov.

I feel things for him I’ve never felt before. That I want everything with him I never thought I’d want. That I belong to him. Born to be his.

It’s crazy. I’m crazy…Maybe both.

But I don’t care. Keeping us a secret isn’t something I’m willing to do anymore. I’m too old for the sneaking around and pretending I don’t want to spend every waking second in his arms.

Fuck what everyone thinks because nothing else matters but us.

And that’s exactly why I’m here.

I slide my helmet off, tuck it under my arm, and take a steady breath as I stare at my childhood home. Memories of birthdaysand holidays with Maksim flood back, and I can’t help but laugh. He used to think I was annoying, too loud, too wild. Now look at us.

I punch in the code, and the familiar scent of home greets me. Living on my own might be freedom, but this house will always be home.

“Already bleeding before you’ve even stepped on the mat?” I tease, leaning against the kitchen counter where my little brother is pricking his finger, checking his glucose before practice.

Like Mom, Madden was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes after fainting during his first-grade Christmas concert. It was a terrifying thing to watch. But he was such a little trooper, and Mom guided him through it all. Though the memory of finding her crying in the bathroom, blaming herself, still leaves an ache in my chest to this day.

Madden smirks without looking up. “Yeah. Pump’s off. I don’t need someone’s knee crushing it mid-roll.”

He’s focused, feeding the strip into the meter like it’s second nature, and I take a moment to admire my baby. So grown up now. He has Mom’s eyes but looks so much likePapi. Where AJ is chaos and impulse, Madden is calm, thoughtful, and a perfectionist in every way.

“120. Good enough.”

“You got a match today?”

“Nah, just training.”

I tear a banana from the bunch and toss it to him. “Did you remember to pack your kit? A snack? You’ll tank your blood sugar if you don’t eat something.”

He catches it one-handed and grins. “I could still take you down.”

“In your dreams, little man.” I tousle his hair, longer now, brushing past his ears because he insists on wearing it like Uncle Silas’s.

Madden puffs his chest and plants his feet in front of me. “I’ll be taller than you some day.”

His tone is light and teasing, but there’s something deeper in his eyes. That same flash of awareness I see inPapi’s. The one that stares back at me every time I look in the mirror. It’s that unspoken knowledge of what’s out there, of what could come for us one day. But that’s exactly why we train. Why we stay ready.

I hook an arm around his neck and kiss the top of his head like I always have. “Stay alert. And remember to put your pump back on.”

Like a typical teenager, he rolls his eyes, pretending to be disgusted by affection, even though he’s still holding onto me.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay,Mom. Or should I call you Hummingbird now?”

He snorts, breaking into a laugh, and I can’t help but join him. But his teasing reminds me of exactly why I came home today.

“Where’s Mom?”