I stare at her, not understanding. "Mara?—"
"Listen to me." She shakes her head, waving a hand at me. "Art is one of the best ways to launder money. You know that, right? I have clients who I’m pretty sure already do that. My gallery, my connections in the art world—I can help you expand your operations."
For a moment, I can't process what she's saying. She's offering to help me. To use her legitimate business, her reputation, her connections, to further my criminal enterprise.
She's not running from my darkness. She's running toward it.
"Do you understand what you're saying?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at her. "What you're offering?"
She nods firmly. "Yes."
"If you do this, you're not just connected to me. You're complicit. You're part of the organization." I grip her shoulders, making sure she's looking at me, making sure she understands. "If I go down, you go down. If my enemies come for me, they come for you. There's no going back from this."
Her chin tilts up, that familiar defiance. "I know."
"Mara—" I let out a slow breath, unsure if I love her more for this or if she’s scaring the shit out of me.
"I killed a man tonight, Ilya." Her voice is steady, unflinching. "I’ve killed one before. I'm already complicit. I'm already part of your world, whether you want me to be or not." She pauses. "The only question is whether you're going to let mebe useful, or if you're going to keep trying to protect me from something I've already chosen."
I stare at her, and I realize she's right. She's already in this. Already marked by what we've done together. Trying to keep her separate, trying to protect her innocence, is pointless now.
She's not innocent anymore. And she doesn't want to be.
"You could have a normal life," I say, giving her one more chance to back out. "You could walk away from all of this. I'd let you go, if that's what you really wanted. I'd make sure you were safe, make sure you had everything you needed."
I don't know if I could actually let her go, though I hope I’d find it in myself to do it, now. But I need to give her the option, need to make sure she's choosing this with full knowledge of what she's giving up.
Mara laughs and cups my face with both hands, forcing me to look at her. "I don't want normal. I want you. Your darkness, your obsession, your world—all of it. But only if you choose all of me too. My strength, my independence, the fact that I’m more than just something you possess."
The words hit me, and I feel like I’m finally able to see after being blind for an eternity. She's not asking me to change who I am. She's asking me to accept who she is. To see her as an equal, instead of something fragile that needs to be protected.
I think about what that would mean. Mara, working beside me instead of being kept separate. Using her talents, her connections, her intelligence to help build something together. Coming home to me at night and submitting completely, giving me the control I crave in private while maintaining her independence in public.
It's everything I want and everything I'm terrified of, all wrapped up in one impossible offer that I can’t possibly refuse.
"I won't be perfect at it," I say finally. "Letting go of control, trusting you to be safe without me watching—it goes against everything I am."
"I know."
"I'll probably fuck it up. I’ll probably try to control things I've promised not to control." I pause. “I want security cameras at your gallery. I won’t watch you… or at least, I’ll try not to. But if something happens, I need to be able to see the footage and know how to find you again.”
She swallows. “Okay,” she says finally. “I can understand that.”
“And I need you to be willing to forgive me if I fuck up. But I’ll try.” I pull her close, pressing my forehead against hers. "For you, I'll try. I'll do anything for you, even try to be better than I am."
"That's all I'm asking." Her voice is soft as she leans into me. "Just try.”
I kiss her, and this time it's different. It’s not desperate or violent. It’s the most tender kiss I’ve ever given, that I’ve ever felt, as I try to pour everything I haven’t yet said into it, giving her all of me as I hold her in my arms and know she wants to be there.
That she’s chosen me.
“I’m yours,” I say softly. “I’ll do my best to be what you need from me.”
"And I'll be yours," she promises. "Completely yours. I'll wear your collar. I'll submit to you. I'll be everything you need me to be, as long as you let me be everything I need to be too."
It's a deal. A compromise. A new beginning.
I seal it with another kiss, and I don’t want to let her go, but I know we need to get out of here. "We should go," I murmur reluctantly. "Kazimir's probably having a heart attack out there."
