Page 126 of Twisted Proposal

There was so much more for us to figure out, but for the first time, I believed we might have a chance. I needed her with me more than I needed my next breath.

I tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet my eyes. "You're stronger than you think," I said, my thumb tracing the outline of her bottom lip. Her breath hitched. "But you'll never have to be strong alone again."

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, inadvertently grazing my thumb.

The small contact sent a voltage shock racing through my veins.

She must have felt it too—her fingers tightened on my hips, and her body swayed infinitesimally closer.

We stood there, suspended in that moment, neither of us willing to be the first to cross the final line.

So close to admitting what we both knew but weren't ready to say aloud.

The confession hovered between us, unspoken but undeniable.

For now, this was enough—this fragile understanding, this tentative peace.

The rest would come in time.

CHAPTER39

VIKTORIA

"I'm not marrying you until I get my degree." My voice was surprisingly steady, but my hands betrayed my rage, trembling at my sides until I balled them into tight fists.

The degree wasn't just a piece of paper to me.

It represented everything I'd fought for, my independence, my worth, my future.

Every class I passed was a victory over my father's legacy, proof that I was more than someone's possession.

I'd clawed my way into that university, earned every credit hour. The thought of giving up that identity, that hard-won achievement, sent panic spiraling through me.

Three weeks.

We'd had three blissful weeks of peace because he was healing and too weak to be a dick.

Now, standing before me in nothing but low-slung sweatpants that revealed the bandages along his ribs and high on his arm, he somehow still managed to look formidable.

"Yes, you are. It's the only way." Artem had healed surprisingly well.

His arrogance had come back in full force, along with the hard planes of muscle that were beginning to redefine his chest and abdomen.

The intensity in his eyes told me this wasn't mere stubbornness.

Something had changed. There was an urgency in his posture, a tightness around his mouth that spoke of deeper concerns.

But I wasn't going to let his fears, whatever they were, dictate my life.

"No." I forced my eyes to stay on his face rather than drop to the enticing V-line disappearing into his waistband. "I don't want to be married until after I finish my degree. This isn't up for debate."

My mother had given up everything for my father.

I'd watched her fade into a shadow of herself, year by year, until she was nothing but an extension of his will.

Then she was gone, and all that remained were whispers of who she might have been.

I couldn't—wouldn't—follow that path.