"I know." His teeth graze my earlobe, sending electricity cascading down my spine. "Be angry. Hate me if you need to. But don't leave."
The vulnerability in those last words makes something crack open in my chest. This man who commands an empire with brutal efficiency, who makes grown men flinch with a single look, is asking me not to leave him. The power in that admission is intoxicating and terrifying in equal measure.
"Fine." The word tastes like surrender, like ash on my tongue. My fingers thread through his wet hair one last time before I pull away. "You'll have your proof."
His hands slide down to cup my hips, pulling me back against him. "Aria…"
"No." I push at his chest, this time with enough force that he actually steps back. "I agreed. That's what you wanted, isn't it? Now get out. This is my room, and I need you to leave because I'm still furious with you and I need space to process the fact that you just asked me to prove I didn't sleep around and claim you as my baby's daddy!"
His expression shifts, something that might be hurt flickering across his features before he buries it. "Aria."
"Don't." I wrap the towel tighter around myself, suddenly desperate to be anywhere but here, trapped in this bathroom with him and the wreckage of what I thought we were building. "Just don't. I agreed to your test. But I don't have to pretend this doesn't hurt."
I move past him toward the door, my bare feet slipping slightly on the wet marble. His hand catches my elbow, stopping me, and when I turn back, his eyes hold mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch.
"I'm sorry." The words come out rough, almost painful, like he's not used to saying them. "For hurting you."
The apology lands like a physical blow, stealing what little air remains in my lungs. I want to accept it, to let it smooth over the jagged edges of my fury, but the wound is too fresh, too raw.
"Save it for after the test results come back," I say quietly. "When you know for certain I'm not lying."
I pull free from his grip and point toward the door. "Get out."
He doesn't move, just stands there with water pooling at his feet, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch despite my fury.
"I said get out." My voice shakes with the effort of holding back tears. "This is my room. You don't get to?—"
"No." The single word cuts through my anger like a blade. He takes a step closer, his presence filling the space between us. "I'm not leaving you like this."
"Like what?" I laugh, the sound bitter and broken. "Furious? Hurt? Feeling like you think I'm a liar?"
"Like you're planning to run." His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking beneath the skin. "I see it in your eyes,Solnyshka. You're calculating distances, weighing options, figuring out how to disappear."
The accuracy of his observation steals my breath. Because he's right. Part of me is already planning escape routes, considering how far I could get before his resources tracked me down. Even though I didn't realize it until he mentioned it.
"Maybe I should run," I whisper. "Maybe that would be better for everyone."
"Better?" He closes the remaining distance between us, his hands framing my face with surprising gentleness. "Better for who? Our child, who deserves both parents? Me, who would tear this city apart looking for you? Or you, who would spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder?"
I want to pull away, to maintain my anger like armor, but his touch undoes something inside me. "You asked for proof, Nikolai. After everything we've survived, after I jumped into a storm-tossed ocean to save your life, you still need evidence that I'm not lying to you."
"I know." His thumb brushes across my cheekbone, catching a tear I didn't realize had fallen. "And I hate myself for it. But this is my world, Aria. This is the price we both pay."
"It's too high." My voice breaks on the words. "The cost is too high."
"I know that too." He rests his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my lips. "But I'm asking you to pay it anyway."
We stand there in the silence, the only sound our ragged breathing and the distant hum of the city beyond the windows. My hand moves instinctively to my stomach, to the life growing there, and I feel him tense against me.
"I'm exhausted," I finally whisper. "I'm so tired of fighting. Of proving myself. Of wondering if anything I do will ever be enough."
"Then stop fighting." His hands slide down to my shoulders, steadying me. "Just for tonight. Let yourself rest."
"I don't know if I can do this," I admit, my voice barely audible.
"You can." His certainty would be comforting if it didn't feel so much like a cage. "You're stronger than you know,Solnyshka. Strong enough to survive the island. Strong enough to survive me."
The towel slips slightly, and I clutch it tighter, suddenly aware of how vulnerable I am. Not just physically, but emotionally. He's seen every part of me. My fear, my fury, my desperate need for him despite everything. And now he's asking me to prove what should never need proving.
