Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
"If either of my brothers tried to take you to the train station, I would have gutted them." The words came automatically, but her statement was still sinking in.
Did she say she would have chosen me?
Or had Mikhail given me too large a dose of pain medication?
Slowly, I started testing my range of motion. The stitches in my arm and side burned.
Viktoria helped me sit up and lean back against the sofa. She tried to pull away, but I caught her wrist, holding her close.
“I asked you a question. Why did you stay?” I asked, my thumb tracing circles on her inner wrist.
"Because I wanted to." Her pulse jumped beneath my touch.
"You wanted to?" I repeated, still not quite believing what I was hearing.
She pulled away from me again and wrapped her arms around her body. She was still close, but not close enough to touch or pull to me.
I immediately felt the loss of her warmth.
"I saw everything," she said, "and I saw the way you looked at me when you opened the door to the panic room. When you collapsed, my heart stopped, and I realized I could run. I considered it." Her eyes met mine, dark and serious. "But then I saw you lying on the floor bleeding out, and I realized I didn’t want to live in a world where I don't have you looking out for me and protecting me."
"You stayed. You chose to stay," I said again, the words still not quite making sense.
I had been horrible to her.
Every opportunity she had given me to be better, I had failed miserably.
The one time I thought maybe we were making progress, hours later I shoved her into a panic room without saying a damn thing to her.
"Artem." She said my name like a prayer. "I want to be here. I just..."
She moved closer, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from her body, smell the sweet jasmine scent of her shampoo. "I need you to listen to me. It can't be just you demanding things, barking orders and expecting me to blindly follow. I know you will never tell me everything, but I need to have choices. I need agency and control in my life. If you just lock me in a house, I will go crazy, and I swear to God I will take you with me."
I suppressed the laugh that bubbled in my gut. It would have hurt too much, and in that moment, I needed every ounce of strength I had.
Carefully, deliberately, I got to my feet and stood in front of Viktoria.
Her eyes widened in alarm, but I ignored the pain shooting through my body as I cupped her face in my hands, brushing away tears she had never let me see before.
"I'm so sorry for everything I've done," I said, low and rough. "I can't promise to be perfect, but I will be better."
She nudged me back a step and stood from the sofa, her body now flush against mine as she carefully laid her head on my chest. Even through the pain, I was acutely aware of every point where our bodies connected—her soft curves against my harder planes, her breath warming my skin through the thin T-shirt.
"That's all I can ask," she murmured, her hands coming to rest lightly on my hips.
The tension between us hung heavy in the air, unspoken but palpable.
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.
CHAPTER 39
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.