For a second, there is confusion, but then recognition dawns in his eyes, turning them black with hate. He shoves me behind him and draws his gun in one fluid motion.
"Ilay, no!" I scream.
Bang!
The shot is deafening in the enclosed space. Roman moves with a speed I didn't know he possessed, ducking just as the bullet tears into the frame of the door, grazing his shoulder and sending splinters flying.
"Fuck!" Roman hisses, clutching his shoulder as blood begins to seep through his shirt. I grab Ilay's arm with bothhands, using all my weight to drag his aim down. "What are you doing? Stop it!"
"He shot me!" Ilay roars, fighting against my grip, his eyes wild. "That is the bastard who shot me in the woods and left me to die! Move,kotynoyok!"
"He saved me!" I shout back, stepping in front of the gun. "Hesaved my life!"
"That's more reason why I should kill him, he put you in danger in the first place!" Ilay snarls.
I narrow my eyes at him. “If we’re going by that, you put me in danger in the first place. By bringing me into your world.”
He’s quiet for a moment before narrowing his gaze. "I’m sorry, my love. But he put a bullet in me, and I return my debts." Roman chuckles despite the blood seeping through his fingers. "Before you shoot your girlfriend's big brother, you might want to ask her about her family tree."
Ilay freezes. The gun wavers slightly in his hand as he looks down at me. "Brother?" he repeats, the word sounding foreign on his tongue. I let out a heavy sigh. "I found out my mom had an affair with Radimir Miroslav. I am his daughter, and Roman is my brother." Ilay stares at me, the fight slowly draining out of his posture as the horror of the situation sets in. He lowers the gun, looking from me to Roman, processing the fact that the enemy he has been destroying is my own blood.
"Your family," he whispers, "is the Miroslav crime family?"
"It's not like I planned it," I say. "Well, this is awkward," Roman says from the door. "Considering you've been blowing up our stuff all week." Ilay's head snaps up. "I'll blow up more if you don't shut up." He walks over to me, grabbing my waist. "Does this mean you're on their side now? Are we enemies, my love?"
"No," I say firmly. "I'm on your side. Always."
"I hope so," he says, brushing his thumb on my jaw. "Because I'm not letting you go. I don't give a fuck if Radimir is your father. I don't care if the devil himself is your family, I'm not playing games. You're my wife. That trumps everything. Biology, family, all of it. If your new family tries to touch you again, I'll slaughter every single one of them until there's no one left to claim you but me."
"I know," I breathe, trembling under his intensity. He stares at me, looking for any sign of hesitation, any sign that my loyalty has shifted to my family. When he finds none, he kisses me hard, a bruising, possessive seal poring days of longing into it.
"I'd do it again," he murmurs against my lips. "I'd kill your father and your brother and everyone else if they tried to keep you from me."
"Hey," Roman calls out from the doorway, breaking the trance. "I'm standing right here, and I'm still bleeding on your floor. If you're done threatening to murder my family, I'd like a doctor."
Ilay breaks the kiss and glares at him. "Get out of my house, Roman. Before I decide to make your sister an only child again."
Roman nods at me once, then turns and walks out. Ilay kicks the door shut and pulls me back into his arms, burying his face in my hair. "Don't ever leave me again," he commands, his voice shaking.
"I won't," I promise. But as I hold him, I look out the window at the city he almost destroyed, and I know that the war is far from over.
Chapter 31
?
IRIS
The door closes behind Roman to leave a heavy silence settling over the room. Ilay holds me for a long moment with his arms tight around me and his face buried in my hair, I can feel him breathing me in as if trying to convince himself I'm really here.
I can also feel the tension in his body and the rage simmering just beneath the surface of his skin.
He pulls back slightly to look down at me before he guides me to the couch where I sit down slowly with legs that are still shaking. I'm not sure what he is going to do next or what he is going to say, so I watch him walk over to the small bar in the corner to pour me a glass of water. His hands are steady in a way that feels unnatural, as if he is forcing himself to stay calm.
He comes back and hands it to me before sitting down beside me. "Drink," he says.
I take the glass with trembling hands and drink before setting it down on the table. He watches me with eyes that trace the bruise on my cheek and the way I hold myself like I am still bracing for a hit.
"Tell me what happened," he says quietly. "Tell me what happened to you while you were in their captivity."
