At least not ones that will end well.
"Every day, I'll wake up knowing it could be my last. That I’ll be discarded whenever I lose my appeal or he gets angry at my brother.”
I feel like my heart is being crushed by a vise because she’s right. Maksim will crush her spirit and then he’ll dispose of her when he’s bored or wants to make a point to Alessandro.
"I just wanted…" She sniffs. "I wanted one good memory to hold onto. One moment that was my choice. Is that really so much to ask?"
I cross the room before I can stop myself, unable to bear the distance between us while she breaks apart.
"Come here." I pull her against me.
She collapses into my chest, her body trembling.
I wrap my arms around her, one hand cradling the back of her head.
The gesture is chaste, nothing like our heated encounter in the car, and yet, somehow, more intimate.
Her fingers clutch at my shirt, twisting the fabric as she cries.
I hold her tighter, as if my arms can shield her from the brutal future in front of her.
As if I can absorb her pain into my own body.
As if comfort is enough when what she needs is an escape.
"I've got you," I promise, knowing it's a lie. I don't have her. I can't have her. And soon, she'll belong to another man, one who will break her.
As her tears soak through my shirt, my anger and resentment grow. I cannot let this happen.
I've spent my life following orders, but what good is loyalty when it means sending this woman into hell?
Alessandro may be my Don, but he's wrong about this.
Dead wrong.
My mind races through scenarios, each more dangerous than the last.
Taking her and running would mean our deaths.
Killing Maksim would mean war.
But watching Valentina be destroyed piece by piece by that monster is not something I can allow.
I have to figure out something to save her.
Even if it costs me everything.
9
VALENTINA
Let myself go in Cristian’s arms even as I know nothing changes by blubbering.
But for a moment, I don’t feel alone. I realize that while I’d like to have a man’s gentle touch, his comfort now is as much needed, if not more, than pleasure.
“I’m sorry I’m falling apart.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m the one that’s sorry. You’re in an impossible situation and I made it worse.”
