Victoria's fingers dig into my shoulders. Zakhar goes still, barely breathing. I pull her closer, protective instinct firing before thought catches up.
Silence.
One heartbeat. Two. Three.
Then the music restarts. The same passage, slower this time. Careful. Maksim working through the mistake instead of abandoning it.
Victoria exhales against my neck. Zakhar's shoulders drop. I loosen my grip on her hips, realizing I was holding tight enough to bruise.
Maksim is getting better at living with limitations instead of letting them destroy him.
We're all learning that.
I look at Victoria. Dark eyes watching me with trust I don't deserve. Love. Faith that I won't hurt her even though she knows exactly what I'm capable of.
My chest gets heavier.
"I need to tell you something," My voice scraped raw by what I'm about to confess. "It's serious. You need to brace yourself."
Her smile fades immediately. Wariness creeps into her expression, tightening the corners of her mouth, darkening her eyes.
Zakhar shifts closer, hand finding hers automatically. His fingers lace with hers, palm to palm, grounding her. Supporting her. Making sure she knows she's not alone for whatever comes next.
That simple gesture warms something in me. The way they move together now, instinctive and seamless. The way Zakhar knows exactly what she needs before she asks. The way she accepts his comfort without hesitation.
"Go ahead," she says quietly. Her voice is steady but I see tension in her jaw, the way her free hand tightens on my shoulder.
I swallow hard. This is harder than I expected. Harder than pulling the trigger. Harder than watching Arthur Ainsley bleed out on the expensive carpet after he begged for mercy I had no intention of giving.
Because this might be the thing that breaks us.
She might thank me. Or she might look at me with horror and revulsion. Might realize that loving me means loving someone who kills without remorse when the math adds up right. Someone who kissed her goodbye this morning, then went and executed her father in cold blood.
The fear tastes bitter. Metallic. Like adrenaline's aftermath.
What if she hates me for this?
What if she looks at me and sees a monster instead of a man?
What if I went too far and this is the line she can't forgive me for crossing?
I killed her father.
Even if he failed her in every way that mattered. Even if he sold her to monsters. Even if he deserved it.
Still. Her father.
And I put a bullet between his eyes.
Would do it again right now if given the choice.
But will she understand that?
"Your father," I start, then pause. Force myself to continue. "Your father had an accident. Fatal."
Victoria goes very still. Not tense. Not panicked. Just still.
Waiting.
