“Fuck Vladimir’s promise.” The curse came out vicious. “Sebastian Davis tried to kill you. Blackmailed you for years. Murdered your mother. And now I find out he’s the same bastard who’s been haunting me for four years?” He shook his head. “No. There are some things more important thanpromises. Some people who deserve death more than they deserve mercy.”
I should’ve argued. Should’ve reminded him that breaking Vladimir’s conditions would destroy everything he’d worked for. But I couldn’t. Because part of me, a dark, vengeful part that I usually tried to ignore, wanted Sebastian dead too.
Wanted him to pay for every moment of fear, every tear, every piece of myself I’d lost trying to survive his blackmail.
“The video—” I started, but Kirill cut me off.
“I’ll handle it. I’ll find every copy, every backup, every trace of it. And I’ll destroy them all.” His hands were still cradling my face, his thumbs brushing away tears I didn’t realize were still falling. “No one is going to see that video, Barbara. No one is going to use it against you ever again.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’m very good at what I do.” A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “And because Sebastian made a fatal mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“He came after what’s mine.” Kirill pressed a kiss to my forehead, soft and reverent. “He hurt you. Threatened you. Tried to take you from me. And there’s no algorithm, no backdoor, no hiding place that will save him from that.”
I wanted to believe him. Wanted to trust that this nightmare could actually end. That Sebastian could be stopped, that the video could be destroyed, that I could finally be free.
But five years of terror had taught me not to hope too much. Not to believe in happy endings or rescue or salvation.
“What if you can’t find him?” The question came out, barely a whisper. “What if he releases the video anyway?”
“Then we deal with it.” Kirill’s voice was certain, unshakeable. “Together. You and me. We face whatever comes, and we survive it. Because that’s what we do, Barbara. We survive.”
Survive. The word had defined my existence for so long. But looking at Kirill now, seeing the determination in his eyes, the protective fury radiating off him, I realized something.
Maybe surviving wasn’t enough anymore.
Maybe it was time to actually live.
“I love you.” The words came out before I could stop them. Before I could second-guess or overthink or talk myself out of being vulnerable.
Kirill went very still. “What?”
“I love you,” I repeated, more certain this time. “I know it’s fast. I know we barely know each other. I know this whole situation is insane. But I….” I took a shaky breath. “When I was dying in that building, you’re who I called. When I think about my future, you’re in it. When I imagine being happy, actually happy, not just pretending, I see you.”
For a moment, he didn’t respond. Just stared at me like I’d spoken in a language he didn’t understand.
Then he kissed me.
Hard. Desperate. Fierce. Like he was trying to pour everything he couldn’t say into that kiss. Like he was claiming me in the most fundamental way possible.
When he pulled back, his voice was rough. “I love you too. Have since that first night, probably. Even when I was trying to hate you, trying to walk away, trying to convince myself you were just another complication, I loved you.”
The admission hung between us, raw and honest and terrifying in its vulnerability.
“We’re going to end this,” he continued, his forehead resting against mine. “You, me, and whatever resources the Bratva can bring to bear. We’re going to find Sebastian Davis. We’re going to destroy that video. And we’re going to make sure he can never hurt you again.”
“And then?”
“And then we get married. Have our baby. Build the life you deserve.” His smile was soft now, genuine. “The life we both deserve.”
I kissed him again, softer this time, trying to convey everything I felt: gratitude and love and hope and fear all tangled together.
When we finally pulled apart, the party was still going on inside. Still the same mix of two worlds colliding, still the champagne and speeches and pretending everything was normal.
But nothing was normal. Nothing would ever be normal again.
