Yulian.
I’m ready to tackle him to the ground, tie him the fuck up, and haul him over my shoulder. Kidnap him. Hide him somewhere no one will find him.
He stops in front of me, panting, and I notice the bloodsplattered on his shirt, soaking through the fabric and marring his neck.
It can’t be?—
“Not mine,” he breathes out, his face brighter, looking happy, radiant even, because…he got married?
The thought drags me under, as if someone’s cut the wire holding me together.
I grab the back of his head, pulling at his hair as I growl, “How dare you get married?”
“It’s—”
“I don’t care if you are married.” My voice is harsh, brimming with rage, and pain courses through my veins. “You’re already fucking mine. Do you hear me?”
He grins wide.
“You think I’m joking? I’ll kidnap you and hold you captive for the rest of your life if I have to.”
“Toxic. I love it.”
“Shut the hell up.” I search our surroundings, holding the gun up. “Where’s your wife? Let me meet her real quick.”
“Aw, you’ll kill her?”
“If she doesn’t divorce you, yes.”
He laughs, and the rich sound stings deeper because now, he’s not all mine anymore.
Someone else has him.
Temporarily.
Just for now.
I’ll make sure to end this marriage even if it’s the last thing I do.
“Stop laughing.” I pull on his hair harder. “Where is she?”
“There’s no wife.” He shows me his empty ring finger. “Will be open to having a husband, though. Not now, but I’m putting it on the table, just in case.”
“What?” My grip loosens a little.
“I didn’t get married,” he admits softly, then he tells me about the switch, that Alina got married instead, and how Levian Markov played a role in it. He recounts the story of how the Boston Bratva was behind the attack that both brought us closer and pulled us apart four years ago.
The alliance with Lukas.
Killing Yaroslav.
My head reels from the onslaught of information, but every word rewrites the last couple of days of hell in my head.
By the time he’s done, my knees almost give out.
I’m now holding on to his shoulders tightly as sharp breaths puncture my lungs. It’s as if I’ve been drowning for years, and I’m finally coming up for air.
He’s here.
