"What about us?"
"You said you'd walk away from the Bratva for me. Did you mean it?"
"Yes." I reach out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Because something in you woke up a part of me I didn't know existed. I've spent my whole life being a soldier for my family. Following orders. Doing the work no one else wants to do. I never questioned it. Never wanted anything different."
"And now?"
"Now I want everything. A home. A wife. Children. A future that doesn't involve constant violence and blood. I want mornings like this. Quiet, peaceful, just us. I want to watch you bake, see you smile without exhaustion weighing you down. I want to give you everything you've never had time or energy to want for yourself."
Her eyes are shining with unshed tears. "That's a lot of pressure to put on one person."
"I'm not asking you to be perfect. I'm asking you to be mine."
"What if I can't give you what you need?"
"You already have."
"A baby—"
"Will happen when it happens. Yes, the Pakhan wants an heir. Yes, I'd like children with you. But that's not why I want you, Lily. That's not what this is about."
"Then what is it about?"
I pull her closer, until she's tucked against my side. "It's about finding something worth keeping. Something worth fighting for. Something worth building a life with."
"You make it sound so simple."
"It is simple. The execution might be complicated, but the choice is simple. Do you want this? Want me? Want a future where you're not alone anymore?"
She's quiet for a long time. I can feel her breathing; feel the way her body is tense against mine.
"Yes," she finally whispers. "God help me, yes."
Relief floods through me, so strong it's almost painful. "Say it again."
"Yes. I want this. I want you. I want..." She trails off, face heating.
"Say it."
"I want you to put a baby in me." The words come out rushed, embarrassed. "Is that crazy? After a week?"
"No. It's perfect." I kiss her then, deep and claiming. She melts into me, all that tension finally releasing.
"So, we're doing this?" she asks when we break apart. "Really doing this?"
"Really doing this. But on one condition."
"What?"
"You let me take care of you. No more struggling alone. No more pretending you're fine when you're drowning. You trust me to handle things."
"Okay,” she says, her voice still small, but gaining confidence. “What happens now?"
"Now? We deal with the practical things. The bakery, the finances, the family. I introduce you to my world properly. We figure out what our life looks like."
She's quiet again, processing. Then: "The prenup thing. You were serious about that?"
"Completely. My cousin Vitali is drafting it now. Full financial protection for you. In case of divorce or my death. You'll never have to worry about money again."
