"Yes."
She was quiet for a long moment. Then she turned in my arms to face me, her dark eyes searching mine.
"Will it ever end? The violence, the threats, the looking over our shoulders?"
I wanted to lie. Wanted to promise her a future of peace and safety, where our child could grow up without the shadow of my sins hanging over them.
But I couldn't.
"I don't know," I admitted. "The life I've built—the world I live in—it doesn't offer guarantees. There will always be enemies, rivals, men who want what I have." I touched her face, tracing the line of her jaw. "But I will spend every day of the rest of my life protecting you. Both of you. Whatever it takes."
"I know you will." She rose on her toes and kissed me—soft, lingering. "I'm not afraid, Vasily. Not anymore. Whatever comes, we'll face it together."
Together. The word still felt foreign, still surprised me every time she said it. I'd spent my entire life alone in the ways that mattered—surrounded by soldiers and lieutenants and sycophants, but truly alone. She'd changed that. Had carved out a space in my chest and made it her home.
"I spoke to Semyon about something else," I said when the kiss ended. "About going back to New York."
Her breath caught. "New York?"
"You need to face what you left behind. Lisa. Your father. The life you were living before I—" I stopped, the words sticking in my throat.
"Before you kidnapped me," she finished. No accusation in her voice. Just acknowledgment of the truth.
"Yes. Before that." I took her hands in mine. "I can't undo what I did. Can't give you back the life I stole. But I can give you the chance to say goodbye to it properly. To choose what comes next with clear eyes."
"Vasily..." She looked up at me, her expression soft with something I was still learning to recognize. "I've already chosen. I chose you. I chose us."
"I know. But you made that choice under duress. In captivity, in danger, with limited options." I forced myself to continue, even though every word felt like a blade. "I need you to make it again. In New York, surrounded by your old life, with nothing forcing you to stay with me. I need to know that you're choosing this—choosing me—freely."
"You're scared." She said it gently, without judgment. "You're scared I'll change my mind."
"Yes." There was no point denying it. "I'm terrified."
She stepped closer, pressing her body against mine. Her hands slid up my chest to rest on my shoulders, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt.
"I'm not going to change my mind," she said. "But I understand why you need to see it. Why you need me to face my old life and choose you anyway."
"Gabrielle—"
"So we'll go to New York. I'll see Lisa. I'll deal with my father. I'll stand in my old apartment and remember who I was before you walked into my life." She pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. "And then I'll come home with you. Because you're my home now, Vasily. Wherever you are—that's where I belong."
The relief that flooded through me was staggering. I pulled her closer, burying my face in her hair, breathing in the scent of her.
"I love you," I murmured against her temple. "More than I know how to say."
"I know." Her arms tightened around me. "I love you too."
We stood there for a long time, holding each other, the Mediterranean sun warm through the windows. I could feel her heartbeat against my chest, steady and strong. Could feel the slight swell of her stomach pressing against me—our child, our future, growing between us.
"When do we leave?" she asked finally.
"Whenever you're ready."
"Tomorrow." She pulled back to look at me. "I want to get it over with. Want to close that chapter so we can start the next one."
"Then tomorrow it is."
***
