"I understand," Victoria says, her voice fracturing. "Roles reversed, I would have thought the same thing. The evidence was damning. You had every reason to suspect me. I was keeping secrets."
Maksim rises from his chair. The movement is slow. Deliberate. He circles the desk and moves to sit on the coffee table directly in front of her.
He takes her uninjured hand in both of his. Brings it to his chest. Holds it over his heart.
"You already have this," he says quietly. "So be careful with it,moya koroleva."
The words are simple. But they carry the weight of everything Maksim is.
He's giving her his heart. Trusting her with the most vulnerable part of himself. The part that learned love and beauty could be destroyed in an instant.
Something breaks open inside me. An emotion too big for my chest. Too powerful for words.
The feeling of every defense I've maintained for decades recognizing that they're no longer necessary with this woman.
I've spent my entire life protecting others. Watching over Alexei's health and recklessness. Standing beside Maksim as we built something from nothing. Being the guardian. The soldier. The one who stays vigilant so others can rest.
But Victoria doesn't need me to protect her from the world. She's been protecting herself and countless others for years.
What she needs is someone who chooses her. Who sees her strength and loves her for it instead of trying to soften it. Who stands beside her as an equal instead of a guard.
I can be that. Want to be that.
I cross to where she sits surrounded by my brothers. By the men who've been my family since we were children surviving Moscow's cruelty together.
And I lift her into my arms. Bridal style. Careful of her injured hand. Cradling her against my chest like she's precious.
"You are ours," I say.
Not a question. Not a plea. A statement of absolute fact delivered with the certainty of tactical assessment confirmed.
She belongs to us. We belong to her. And nothing that happened today changes that fundamental truth.
Victoria's arms come around my neck. She buries her face against my shoulder and holds on like I'm the only solid thing ina world that's been spinning out of control. Her breath is warm through my shirt. Her weight is perfect in my arms.
"Ours," I repeat, softer this time. Letting the word settle between us. "And we're yours. For as long as you'll have us."
Alexei stands. Moves close enough to rest his hand on her back. His palm spreads wide between her shoulder blades. Protective and possessive in equal measure.
Maksim rises too. His hand finds her hair, fingers threading through the dark strands with unexpected gentleness. Stroking once. Twice. A gesture so unlike his usual control it makes my throat tighten.
We surround her. The four of us creating a circle that feels unbreakable. A bond forged through fire and truth and the particular kind of love that survives interrogation and suspicion and the worst assumptions.
She chose us. Even knowing what we are. Even knowing the danger and violence and darkness that comes with the Severyn name and the empire we've built on blood and strategy.
And we choose her. Not despite her secrets, but because of them. Because she fights for those who can't fight for themselves. Because she turned trauma into purpose. Because she's exactly as fierce and complicated and extraordinary as we are.
Because she'sours.
She nods against my shoulder. Her voice is muffled but clear when she speaks.
"Yours," she whispers back.
And for the first time since Luan Krasniqi walked into our office and shattered our assumptions about the woman we'd let into our lives and hearts, I feel certainty settle back into place.
34
VICTORIA
