Archer bowed his head slightly. “Ma’am.”
She blinked comically. “Did he just ‘ma’am’ me?”
“Respect,” Archer said simply. “And orders.”
Her jaw worked, as if an angry retort was forming in her pretty little head—but it quickly died. She wasn’t naive. She’d seen enough now to recognize danger even when it wore an exquisitely tailored coat.
Instead, she looked at me. “You’re really going.”
“I am.”
For a few heartbeats, she remained silent. “When will you be back?”
“When this is handled.”
Wrong answer. I saw it in her eyes—the hurt… the worry. Though she said nothing, she nodded slowly. We both knew “handled” could mean an hour or months or never.
Ignoring the fact that Archer was still waiting by the door, I approached her. Softly, I brushed my thumb across her cheekbone. “You will be safe. I do not leave what is mine unguarded.”
“I’m not your possession,” she petulantly grumbled, making me want to smile.
My lips ghosted her ear. “No. You, my sweet kitten, are my future.”
She swallowed, tears threatening but held tightly back. “And what if something happens to you?”
I kissed her slow, deep, memorizing her taste. When I pulled back, I lowered my head and nuzzled my nose against hers. Finally, I murmured, “I’ll be fine.”
“You can’t promise that,” she argued softly. “In your world, things are dangerous. I’m worried about the baby.”
“I will burn the world to ash before it touches you or our child.”
Her voice shook. “That’s not what I meant. I’m worried about our child never knowing their father.”
“You and our child will be safe, and I will return to you, but I need to make this trip.”
Archer discreetly turned away, giving us the illusion of privacy. I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, forcing myself to step back.
“The Armenians will try again. There is betrayal inside the brotherhood, I just don’t know who or where. Until I know that, you do not go anywhere without Archer.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then I tie you to me.” My tone didn’t rise, didn’t break. Truth didn’t need volume. “And I do not leave.”
Her eyes widened—not in fear. In recognition.
I loved her. In the most dangerous way a man like me could.
Enough to get myself killed for putting my family before the brotherhood. Enough to let her hate me if it kept her alive.
My phone buzzed. The plane was ready. Igor Popov was letting me use his private jet.
After seeing the message, I pressed my forehead to hers. “I’m hoping this trip will result in answers and reinforcements. Sofia, I will come back.”
Her breath stuttered. “Promise me. Come back to us, Maksim.”
“I swear it.”
Reluctant to leave, I forced myself to walk away. Each step felt like I was literally ripping muscle from bone. Archer shut the door behind me. The lock clicked.
