Page 115 of Twisted Pact

“You should answer that,” Mila suggests. “With everything going on right now, it could be important.”

“Nothing is more important than this conversation. Whatever Dmitri wants can wait. Right now, you’re my priority.”

She studies my face like she’s trying to determine if I’m being sincere or just saying what she wants to hear. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here. For not running when things got complicated. For choosing us even when it would be easier to walk away.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

The vulnerability in that word makes my chest ache. She’s asking for reassurance I can’t guarantee. Asking me to promise that life won’t intervene in ways that tear us apart.

“I promise that I’ll fight like hell to stay. That I’ll do everything in my power to build a life with you. That no matter what happens, you and this baby come first.”

She nods slowly. “I guess that has to be enough.”

We sit in comfortable quiet for several minutes. My phone vibrates twice more, but I continue ignoring it. Whatever crisis is brewing can wait until Mila is settled.

“I’m going to read Mama’s email,” she finally decides. “Tomorrow. When I’ve had some time to prepare for whatever she wrote.”

“Want me there when you do?”

“No. This is something I need to do alone, but I appreciate the offer.” She stands from my lap and moves to the bed like she expects me to repeat my mantra about her needing rest. I might as well record it for as often as I find myself saying it these days.

She climbs under the covers and looks at me. “Stay until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.”

I return to the chair by the window and watch her get comfortable. She closes her eyes, and her breathing gradually evens out. Within minutes, she’s asleep.

I pull out my phone to check the messages I’ve been ignoring. All from Dmitri. All marked urgent.

Novikov is escalating. Need to discuss response strategy.

Intelligence reports suggest coordinated action from multiple families. This isn’t just about Novikov anymore.

Call me. We have decisions to make.

I pocket the phone and return my focus to Mila sleeping peacefully. Her face is relaxed in ways it hasn’t been for days. No worry creasing her forehead or fear drawing her mouth into a line.

This is what I’m fighting for. These moments of peace. The chance to build something that doesn’t involve constant threat assessment and tactical planning.

My shoulder throbs with each heartbeat, reminding me that peace requires violence. Protecting what I love means engaging with a world designed to destroy beautiful things.

But watching Mila sleep, and knowing she’s carrying our child, makes every bullet and every risk worth it.

Tomorrow, I’ll deal with Novikov. Tomorrow, I’ll address the coalition forming against us. I’ll make the hard decisions required to keep our families safe.

Tonight, I just sit here and guard the woman who’s become more important than territory or influence or anything else I’ve spent my life pursuing.

31

Mila

It takes fifteen hours of thinking before I get the nerve to pick up my phone. My finger hovers over the call button for ten minutes before I finally press it.