Alina sags in Nikolai’s grip the moment the confirmation leaves my mouth, the tension draining out of her all at once. Whatever had been holding her together snaps. She doesn’t resist when Nikolai gently pries the gun from her hand, passing it off to the guard at his side to return the borrowed tool.
I’m there before her knees buckle and she can hit the floor.
I catch her carefully, sweeping her up into my arms as if she weighs nothing at all. Her body is rigid at first, locked in shock, then it begins to tremble violently, every muscle shaking as the adrenaline crashes through her system.
Her face presses into my shoulder and I hold her tighter.
“It’s okay,” I murmur in her ear, my voice low. My hand moves in slow, grounding circles along her back, anchoring her to something solid and real. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
She makes a small, broken sound that’s between a sob and a breath of relief before clutching my shirt like a lifeline. She turns and buries her face in the crook of my neck, refusing to let go. Not that I would ever let her. Not after all of this, after all we’ve gone through to finally be together again.
I brace myself instinctively, waiting for the inevitable second act. For him to retrieve the gun again and turn that cold, calculating attention on me next and force my hand the way he forced hers. To demand blood as payment for defiance, loyalty, love, whatever this has become.
I’m ready for it.
But it never comes.
Instead, Nikolai steps back.
It’s subtle, almost easy to miss, but the shift is unmistakable. He gestures once, lazily. His guards move immediately. Two of them peel away to Viktor’s body, lifting it with practiced ease as if he weighs nothing more than a sack of discarded clothing. Others fan out, already cleaning the floor, wiping away blood, righting chairs, erasing the evidence of what just happened with terrifying efficiency.
“I expect you at our monthly meeting,” he finally says, turning back to me. “I look forward to however you plan on spinning this… tragedy to the public.”
My brow furrows despite myself.
That’s it?
No ultimatum? No execution? No demand that I prove my loyalty by breaking the last thing I have left? I wait for the other shoe to drop, my grip tightening instinctively around Alina as if she might be taken from me even now.
Nikolai catches the confusion on my face. A faint, bemused smile touches his mouth, there and gone in the same breath, replaced by that familiar glacial composure. “Do not make me regret this decision, Sasha.”
The weight of those words settles heavily in my chest.
“I won’t,” I say quietly, meaning it with every fractured piece of myself.
He nods only once. His gaze drifts to Alina again, something almost approving in his eyes.
“Quite the fire she has,” he remarks.
I say nothing in return.
He steps back further. “Be sure not to dampen it. It would be such a shame otherwise. Not many women like her are left these days.”
The comment chills me more than the threat ever could.
Then he turns.
Just like that, he leaves the dining room, his guards falling into step behind him in perfect formation. Their boots echo briefly against stone before the sound fades, leaving only two stationed quietly at the edges of the room.
Alina shifts in my arms, trembling still. Slowly, she lifts her head. Her cheeks are streaked with tears, her lashes clumped together, eyes glassy.
“Is it over?” she whispers.
I press my lips gently to her cheek, unable to help myself. “Yes.”
Her shoulders sag with relief, exhaustion crashing through her all at once.
I tighten my hold and adjust her weight against me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
