By some miracle, I hope they’re alive, but I’m not banking on it.
He nods. “They’re dead.”
I cover my mouth with my hand, tears swimming in my eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“It is not your fault.” His hands grip mine, brows furrowing. “You did nothing wrong.”
I know it isn’t, but somehow, it feels as though it is.
“You did good, moya okhotnitsa.” He smirks. “Your shots were perfect.”
He lifts my hand and presses a slow kiss to my knuckles and doesn’t let go. Not when we walk out of the house. Not when we reach the car. Not even when the door shuts behind us. His fingers stay wrapped around mine the whole way home, and somehow, that tether is the only thing keeping me together.
ALEKSEI
My hand is still locked in hers when we walk inside, unwilling to let go. My men fan out through the entryway and hall, every one of them on alert.
Konstantin gives a few orders, sending half the crew to guard the perimeter and half to stay with Fiona and her parents. He knows I would burn the world down if I found one gap in our protection.
The air smells faintly of coffee and lemon polish. One of the maids appears, a tray in her hands filled with tea, coffee, and pastries. She sets it carefully on the table in the den and bows her head, her eyes flicking toward Fiona before she vanishes again.
Fiona stands by the window, arms wrapped around herself. She hasn’t said a word since the car, and I don’t know what the hell is going on in her head or how I can fix it. Her parents huddle close together on the sofa, her mother whispering something to her father.
I step toward her. “You should eat.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not hungry.”
She killed a man tonight. The first one is always the hardest.
I still remember mine. I was ten, and it was on my father’s orders. The man begged on his knees, pleading for me not to do it, that he had a wife and kids waiting for him. But still, I pointed the gun at his chest and pulled the trigger.
For weeks, I had nightmares. I saw his face everywhere I went. I couldn’t escape it. But eventually, it went away, until killing became no different than eating or sleeping.
But Fiona is not me and she never will be. She will need time, and I will give her every second of it.
“You did what you had to do,” I tell her. “You should be proud.”
She lets out a brittle laugh, one that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I don’t feel proud. I just feel relieved it wasn’t us, but I can’t stop seeing it.”
“I understand.” I pull her into my chest, holding her there. “You’re strong. You’ll be okay.”
Her shoulders sag, like she doesn’t quite believe me.
I press a kiss to the top of her head before easing back. “I have to go for a bit.”
She looks up fast. “Where?”
But in her gaze, I can tell she already knows. I have unfinished business.
“The one who’s still alive. He won’t be for long.”
“Oh.” Her expression tightens, the reality settling heavy between us. “Right.”
“Anyone who touches what’s mine doesn’t get to live, detka. You know that.”
“I do.” She swallows. “That doesn’t make it easier.”
“I know.” My hand curves around the back of her neck and I lean in, giving her a soft kiss.
