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YULIAN

She lied to me.

My knuckles whiten around the railing. I want to punch something, take my rage out on the first inert object I find, but I force myself to breathe deeply. Calm down, like I’m supposed to be doing.

But how the fuck can I do that?

Mia lied to me. She fucking lied—again. Not to protect her son, but to protect that worthless piece of shit Brad.

She’ll leave you. The thought is in my head before I can stop it. She always leaves, doesn’t she? She always chooses him in the end.

She’ll run to you when things get bad, but she’ll always go back to him.

“No.” I shake my head, grip the railing tighter. “That’s not true.”

It’s unfair to think this of Mia. I know it’s my rage talking, the wounded part of me that’s only ever healed through fury. But right now, even that is sounding pretty fucking rational.

Brad is in bed with Prizrak. He’s been supplying them with money, financing their murder empire. For all I know, his father paid for the guns that killed my family.

And Mia hid it from me.

I clench my fists tighter. He deserves to die for this. I’ll kill him for this—with my bare fucking hands.

But what about Eli?

My breath halts.

All Brad has ever done is hurt him. That little boy is terrified of him. He cries at the mention of his father’s name, wakes up screaming from nightmares about his father’s temper, keeps begging Mia not to let his father take him.

“My son is my choice. And I will not take his father from him. Not again.”

Mia’s words echo in my head. I remember my own father, taken from me too soon.

He taught me to shoot my first gun, showed me what honor was, and demonstrated to me the way of the pakhan.

He was good to my mom—good to us. If I close my eyes, I can still hear Alina’s squealing laughter as she rode on his shoulders, her tiny hands clapping with delight.

Brad is not that kind of father. All he’s ever shown Eli is cruelty. But…

He’s still his father.

I want to push that thought back down, but I can’t. Because I remember what it was like when I lost mine. He was ten times the man Brad will ever be, a hundred times, a thousand—but that wasn’t why I loved him. That wasn’t what made him special to me.

He was my father.

And if he’d had all the flaws in the world, he still would have been my father.

Slowly, my fists unclench. I let go of the railing.

For five years, Eli mourned his dad. Now, he’s found him again. He’s had to deal with the disappointment that comes with knowing him as a person rather than an ideal—had to swallow that bitter truth far too young. But if, after all this, he lost him again… what would that do to him?

He’d be crushed. The answer bubbles up far too easily. Like I was.

Mia… She must have known. Must have seen what the weight of her lie did to her son all those years. It was for the best, but it still hurt him.

Is it really such a wonder that she doesn’t want him to go through that again?

Eli might never have an actual relationship with his father. They might stay no-contact their whole lives. But knowing he’s out there, that there’s a chance to mend what’s been broken, however slim?—

It would make all the difference.

And Mia knew. Because she’s been torn from her family, too.

“I’ve… been separated from my family.” The words she spoke last year clash against the wall of my anger. “It’s hard enough not to see them, but I can’t imagine what it would be like to know they’re not waiting for me.”

Waiting. That’s what it all boils down to. As long as someone’s alive, waiting for you, there’s hope.

But once they’re dead…

Then all hope dies with them.

I shake my head. I’m too worked up, too mad to think straight. Mia’s reasons, Mia’s pain—I’m too angry to see them clearly.

At that moment, Mia herself walks through the balcony doors.

“Sorry,” she says softly. “I know you said you needed space, but…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence. Lets it hang in the air between us.

I should be angry at her for this, but I’ve used up my reserve, so I stay silent.

She takes that as encouragement. Slowly, she walks up to me. Her dress sways with every step, stunning in the moonlight. Every time I think I can get over Mia Winters, all it takes is one look to remind me I fucking can’t.

Forgiveness is at my fingertips, but I don’t grasp it yet. I’ve been this way too long to change at the drop of a hat—to forget all the programming I’ve spent twenty years painstakingly building.

“I’m sorry,” she says again.

I want to believe her. Want to believe her so fucking badly, it’s tearing me apart. “I know you are.”

It’s the first time I don’t tell her to stop apologizing. It isn’t lost on her.

“I’ve hurt you.” It’s not a question. Her eyes shine with tears as she says it.

I don’t answer. It’s not in my nature to admit something like that—to let my wounds be seen.

“I don’t want him, you know.” She steps closer. We’re inches apart now, her breath hot on my lips as she speaks. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”

“Then why didn’t you just tell me?”

Her smile turns sad. “Why does anyone do anything?”

I don’t need to ask what she means. I know the answer as well as she does.

For love.

Her son needed his father alive. But he needed me, too. Needed me to be a dad to him, the way Brad would never be. And God help me, I need that little kid as much as he needed me—to keep me sane, keep me human.

And if I’d killed his father…

It would have poisoned us forever.

“I think I have a way,” she says. “To get Kallie back.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. But I’ll need you to trust me.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

Mia nods, like she expected precisely that answer. Disappointment flits across her face, but it’s brief. Gone as soon as it comes. “I understand.”

Wordlessly, she stands on her tiptoes.

It’s hell—resisting the urge to kiss her. It’s a fight I can’t win.

Our lips meet. I taste salt in our kiss. Her tears, falling freely.

Then I feel a sting.

It’s so quick, I barely realize what’s happening. “Mia…” I stare at the syringe in her hand. “What did you…?”

The world starts tilting.

“I’m sorry.” She’s crying now, grabbing me under the arms as I lose my balance. Lowering me gently to the ground so I don’t fall. “I’m so sorry, Yulian. For everything.”

Tears keep shattering on the terracotta tiles. I reach out instinctively to wipe them away, but that only seems to make Mia cry harder.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “It’s just a mild sedative. You’ll wake up soon. Won’t feel a thing.”

Betrayal doesn’t catch up to me fast enough. Sadness doesn’t, either.

But one thing does.

Fear.

Not for myself—for her.

Because suddenly, I know how she’s planning to get Kallie back.

I stretch my hand. Try to stop her, keep her here, but my vision is too blurry, my limbs too heavy. I’m fighting against the current and losing.

Don’t go.

Don’t… don’t leave.

Don’t walk away from me again.

“Goodbye, Yulian.”

The world spins. It crashes, blinks in and out of focus.

Then there’s nothing.

There’s no one.

Mia is gone, and I’m left all alone.