Page 58

YULIAN

I catch sight of Mia just before the elevator doors close.

What the hell is she doing?

“Maks.” My second is at my side in an instant. “I just saw Mia leaving.”

“That’s odd.” He touches his chin with faux pensiveness. “Could it have anything to do with you ditching her all night?”

“I didn’t ditch her,” I snap. “I kept getting dragged away. Why the fuck did we even invite this many people?”

“For their money,” Maksim supplies unhelpfully. “You know, like we do every year?”

I grind my teeth into dust. Without a word, I start swimming through this sea of faces and suits, every single one vying for my attention.

I should have kept better tabs on Mia—I know that. With all that’s at stake, I should have kept her glued to my fucking side.

And yet…

You couldn’t look her in the eye, could you? That cold, merciless voice laughs in my ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to. It hurt to have her close, didn’t it?

Knowing it’ll be the last night you ever get to?

I shake my head and rush to the elevator. “I have to find her.”

“Relax, man. She’s with Nikita. She’s perfectly?—”

“Safe?” I snap. “Tell me, Maks, how long has Nikita been missing for?”

He frowns. “What’s that got to do with it?”

“I’ll tell you how long: Three. Fucking. Months. You don’t think that’s long enough to be concerned?”

The second he understands, his expression sobers. “You think she’s been reprogrammed?”

“Can’t fucking rule it out, can I?” I mash the buttons, impatience coursing through my veins hand in hand with rage. “ Blyat’. Too slow.”

“Calm down,” Maksim sighs. “You’re not wrong, but you’ve got no reason to think that. No proof. When I talked to her, she seemed fine.”

“They always seem fine.”

“By your logic, I could be an enemy plant, too.” He covers the buttons with his palm, preventing me from crushing them with my urgency. “There’s no reason to panic.”

“I’m not panicking.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Maks, I swear to God, if you don’t shut up right this second?—”

“What?” He gets between me and the buttons. “You’ll find every excuse under the sun to bury the truth?”

“What truth ?”

“That you love her.”

It’s like getting sucker punched. All the air goes out of me, leaving only anger in its wake. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” He crosses his arms. “You gave up your best shot at revenge for her. You chose her over twenty years of single-minded obsession. And now, you’re afraid it’s not going to matter.”

“I’m not fucking?—”

“Yes, you are!” Maksim raises his voice to match mine. “Goddammit, brother. You know it as well as I do: You’ve painted too big a target on her back. It’s too late to pull the plug now. That’s why you’re scared out of your wits, seeing enemies in every shadow. Even your best friend’s.”

It hits too close for comfort.

Too close to the truth I’ve been burying deep inside my conscience, where I can no longer feel it clawing at me.

“Shut up,” I snarl.

“You love her,” he repeats, undeterred. “And you didn’t realize soon enough. And now you’re trying to undo it all, but you can’t, Yulian! You?—”

I grab Maksim by the lapels of his jacket and slam him against the elevator wall. The powder keg of my fury is this close to exploding, and he keeps dangling the match close enough for sparks.

“I said,” I growl into his tattooed face, “shut the fuck up, or I’ll make you.”

“Fine.” He spits that word like it’s an insult. “Just don’t come crying to me when you’ve got two more graves to clean.”

I hit him before I can stop to think why I shouldn’t.

Blood spatters on my shirt. Maks clenches his teeth, but doesn’t cry out—he’s made of stronger stuff than that.

I let him go and slump against the opposite wall, panting hard.

He’s right.

It’s all I can think of. I thought I’d made a choice last night, but the truth is, I didn’t. I didn’t even make a choice when Maks came to me in my office a week ago, telling me about our enemies’ movements.

There was only one choice to be made, and I made it the second I let Mia climb into a car with me, the night of Brad’s wedding.

Put a target on her back, or spare her.

“Fuck.” I drag my hands over my face. “FUCK!”

Maksim spits a bloody glob on the elevator floor and cleans his face with his sleeve. There are no tooth fragments, nothing broken.

“Yeah,” he echoes. “‘Fuck’ is right.”

“You should have stopped me earlier.”

“Earlier, you didn’t give a shit about her.” He mirrors my posture on his side of the elevator. “Now, you’ve grown a rather inconvenient heart.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“That’s fair.” He lets out a sigh, bone-deep and tired. For once, he actually looks his age. “But I never had any illusions, Yulian. I know where I stand with Kalinda. She’s young, pure, untouched by this world. What we have won’t last ‘til dawn.”

“But you’re still buzzing around her like a goddamn fly to honey.”

“And when the time comes, I’ll stop doing that. I’ll let her go.” He takes one step towards me. When I don’t glare at him, his hand touches my shoulder. “Sometimes, the best thing we can do for the people we love is to let them go.”

“So what exactly are you suggesting?”

“Ship her overseas.” His tone is dark, serious. “Put her and Eli on a plane. Give them fake names, new lives, and burn their addresses afterwards. Never go near them again. Only then can you truly keep them safe.”

Maksim’s words are a butcher’s knife. It guts me to listen, to hear the reason behind them—but he’s fucking right. I’ve got no other choice.

I have to let them go.

The elevator doors slide open on the basement floor.

“Good luck,” Maksim tells me. “And don’t punch anyone else. They’re not all as tough as me.”

I stride into the basement.

Suddenly, I hear a scream.

Her scream.

I dash through like a madman. What if I’m already too late? What if Mia’s?—

“Fuck, Missy!” A bald man with head tattoos whistles. “You sure know how to hold your liquor.”

Laughing.

She’s laughing.

I take in the sight before me. The basement floor is where I host Bratva gatherings—away from the limelight and the cameras. Whenever there’s a party elsewhere, my people make sure there’s one here, too.

It’s a stupid little thing, but this way, no one feels left out. Too many pakhani have been cut down by their own men after playing too hard at being CEO and forgetting to be leaders.

That won’t be me.

“Bartender!” Nikita calls, perched on a stool next to Mia. “Another round!”

The stupidity of my earlier suspicions hits me all at once. I hate Maksim’s habit of butting in, but I hate it even more when he’s right. Nikita’s weakened right now, but she’s far from broken.

I should know that better than anyone.

I move my gaze back to Mia. She’s radiant like this: a shot glass in her hand and laughter on her lips. She’s joking with my men like she was born into a Bratva bar, not even flinching when they slam their palms on the counter or break out in vulgar choruses.

There’s even a little brawl going on off to the side, but Mia looks unfazed, only keeping an eye out for injuries.

“Keep still,” she orders once the losing party trudges back to the bar, dabbing at his broken nose with a cloth thick with alcohol. “Otherwise, it’ll sting worse.”

She’s beautiful.

She’s perfect.

She’s…

The woman I love.

It hits me all at once, like a goddamn freight truck.

I love her.

I fucking love her.

And I cannot let her go.

“Yulian!” She waves at me when she sees me, eyes bright with delight. “You’re here!” She jumps down from the stool and runs to meet me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave. It’s just, Nikita said this is where your friends hung out, so I thought?—”

“Marry me.”

She blinks once, twice. “What?”

Maksim was wrong. Shipping Mia overseas is one choice, but it’s not the only one. There’s another way to save her—one that doesn’t involve fake IDs and burned addresses and me never seeing her again.

It’s almost stupidly simple. All this time, we’ve been playing the part of future husband and wife.

But when it comes down to it, isn’t that an option, too?

If Mia becomes my pakhansha, she will have the full force of my Bratva to protect her. She will live under my roof, have 24/7 security, with private bodyguards for her and Eli.

She will be safe.

She will be mine.

That’s not a reason to marry someone, the voice at the back of my mind mocks. It’s possession. It’s just one more contract.

Maybe so.

But I’m willing to sign it in blood.

“Marry me,” I repeat to her stunned face. I have no idea what else to say to her—to convince her to give me the yes that will save her life. Right now, I’d say anything. “Be my wife. For real.”

It’s the only way I can keep her alive. The only way I can keep her here .

“Yul—”

“I love you.”

The only way I don’t lose her.