I’ve been avoiding them like the plague, but ever since I started seeing those glimpses of genuine tenderness in Wyatt, they’ve sprouted despite my better judgment. I know I shouldn’t care about him, but I can’t help it.
Maybe I am more emotionally invested in him than I should be, especially when he can’t feel the same way. I’vealready accepted that the sex was just sex and nothing more, even if my feelings have taken root in it.
But, they don’t need to know that.
“I’m sure,” I say as convincingly as I can. “I just think Wyatt is a better person than you’d expect, and I don’t want Lily to lose her brother all over again. He just wants to build a bridge with you.”
At that, I catch how Mikhail’s expression softens, then he sighs too and pinches the bridge of his nose.
Roman looks at me for a long moment, his inner conflict reflected in his eyes. Then his tone eases a bit. “You shouldn’t have had to go through any of this.”
“I know,” I murmur, averting my gaze briefly. “But I did, and I’m okay. I want to continue to be okay.”
His shoulders sag a bit with resignation, and I feel as Mikhail drapes his arm over me. “You scared us.”
“Trust me, I was scared too. But I knew I’d end up back here eventually. One way or another.”
“Don’t ever do that again,” Mikhail hums as he rests his chin on the top of my head, letting me feel the vibration.
I smile faintly, more with relief than anything. “I won’t guarantee anything.”
Roman scoffs harmlessly and rolls his eyes. “I can tell you’re just fine.”
Before long, Wyatt, Lily, and Anya join us in the bigger living room, with Nikolai in tow, a beat later, before softening his demeanour and escorting the little one out. The atmosphere shifts immediately, growing tense again from Wyatt’s presence alone. He looks shaken in a solemn, remorseful kind of way,like he’s trying to pick up the pieces of everything he thought he knew. Lily’s eyes are glassy, yet she moves like her shoulders are lighter now. Hopeful.
As Roman straightens, the previous warmth leaves him, replaced by the usual authority he commands. He takes a measured breath.
“This is how this is going to work,” he begins, sounding both calm and deadly serious. When Wyatt meets his gaze without flinching, he continues. “We won’t use force to take Elena back, and we won’t kill you either.”
A flicker of surprise crosses Wyatt’s gaze, but it’s quick and gone in an instant.
“As long as you continue to treat her exactly as she deserves…and then some,” Roman adds, gaze sharp with warning.
“I don’t need to be threatened into doing that.”
“But you do, because if you ever forget, I’ll gladly remind you,” he utters, unrelenting. “If I even catch wind that you’ve done anything she doesn’t like, all bets are off.”
While I don’t imagine Wyatt’s pride enjoys swallowing these demands, he does it anyway, and he doesn’t complain. Instead, he nods.
Mikhail lets an arm settle around Lily’s waist, relaxing his posture just enough for her, but not enough to let his guard down completely. “This is for Lily’s sake, not yours. And because our sister believes you’re not irredeemable.”
Before I can stop myself, I scoff. “I said ‘capable of growth’, thank you.”
I catch Wyatt’s eyes on me, and for a beat, something close to gratitude moves between us, and it makes somethingsquirm in me. Then he huffs to himself. “That’s more generous than I deserve.”
Ignoring the exchange, Roman mutters, with a touch of reluctance, “We’re willing to work with you, but only if you prove to us that we can trust you.”
At this, he straightens a bit more, realizing the gravity of what’s being offered. “You’ll accept a truce?”
Roman nods, steady and grounding in the way he stands, ever the leader. “The Grimaldis are a mutual problem. They want us toppled, they tried to buy our sister, and they want you dead. So, we’ll focus on our mutual enemy.”
Wyatt blinks, obviously surprised by the olive branch he was hoping for and didn’t think he’d get. But he schools his expression and nods. “And after that?”
“After that,” he echoes coolly, “We’ll deal with the Balakins...assuming you have no more associations with them.”
“None at all,” he says plainly, not needing to think about it. “My allegiance to them died with my old self.”
My brothers consider this, and despite how they were ready to gut him the moment Wyatt walked into the house, the weight of everything doesn’t carry the same oppression as it had. This is a strategy, not forgiveness. I’ve been around my brothers long enough to know that.
