Then my thoughts shift, like they always do, and the calm room starts unraveling. The Albanians. Gennady. Keeping them all safe. My stomach knots.
I rub the back of my neck, trying to push it all back into those mental boxes. Organized. Sorted. Locked down.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
I look down at her. “You don’t need to thank me.” I haven’t done anything worthy of it.
“Yes, I do. That was really sweet of you. With everything going on lately, it’s just… Thank you. It was really nice.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Are you doing okay, Viktor?”
The question catches me off guard a little. The overstimulation, the worry, the need for calm and quiet is there. But with her right now, it’s like I’ve been given something I haven’t had—ever.A safe place to just be. “I’m okay,” I tell her.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Good. I worry about you, Viktor.”
“You do?”
She smiles at me, that sunshine smile of hers, and my heart trips over in my chest. “Yes. Especially with everything going on.”
“I’ll deal with Gennady before he can touch you or the kids.” The words leave my mouth before I can think twice. Simple as that.
She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t bat an eye at that statement. God, I love that about her.
“You don’t need to worry about me,” I murmur against her hair as I inhale. Something about having her like this in my arms makes the anxiety in my chest over the lack of progress with Gennady lessen. How she does this to me, I’m not sure. But I crave it as much as I craved solitude before.
I notice that the cushions on the couch are out of place. My fingers itch to smooth them out, to line them up. But I force my hand to still. These small things used to consume me. Sometimes, they still do. But when I’m with Avelina, they’re quieter. Bearable in a way I’m not sure I even understand.
“I didn’t grow up like this,” I say softly.
“Like what?”
“With quiet nights. Soft things… Safe places.”
She looks up at me, and I watch her hand twitch in her lap, like she’s waiting for permission. I give a small nod, and she cups my face. I relish the soft feel of her fingers against my jaw. “You’re building that now, Viktor.”
Building something? Me? The thought sits strange in my chest. I’ve spent my whole life doing the opposite. But this—sitting here with her, with Sofia, with Leon—feels different. Good. Scary, but good.
A home.
A family.
Something fragile and real.
And it terrifies me.
I shift, unable to sit for long. “I’m going to check in with the men before dinner. We’ll be gone most of tomorrow,” I tell her.
She smiles with a nod. Trusting me without question. Yet another thing I’m not sure I’m used to.
“Hey.” She grabs my arm gently. Always so gently. “I’m here if youneed to talk…or decompress. Don’t forget that. You’re great just how you are, Viktor.”
Her words hit like a bullet. I swallow and nod. “I’ll try to remember that.”
