My hand closes around her wrist, firm enough to stop her completely. She turns back to me, surprised by the force of it.
“Timofey?” she says, brows pulling together. “They need us out there. Move.”
“You’re staying here.”
Her eyes widen instantly.
“What? No.” She shakes her head, trying to pull free. “Absolutely not.”
I don’t let go.
“It’s too dangerous,” I say, my grip tightening just slightly—not to hurt her, but to make sure she understands I’m not negotiating. “This isn’t a controlled situation anymore.”
She glares at me, fire flashing immediately.
“Are you forgetting who you’re talking to?” she snaps. “I am Valeria Petrova. Daughter of Fydor Petrov. I can hold my own.”
Damn.
Even now, with all the alarms blaring, men mobilizing, the entire estate on the edge of war, she looks so fucking hot.
But I force myself to stay focused.
“I know exactly who you are,” I say evenly.
She steps closer instead of backing down, her voice dropping but losing none of its force.
“Then act like it,” she fires back. “I’ve stood in situations like this before. I’ve fought my way out of worse.”
I hold her gaze. Don’t flinch. Don’t soften.
“This isn’t about whether youcanfight,” I say. “It’s about whether youshould.”
A beat.
“My child is inside you,” I add, quieter now—but heavier. “That changes everything.”
Her jaw tightens. I can see the conflict flash through her eyes, but it doesn’t weaken her. If anything, it makes her push harder.
“I’m not hiding while you’re out there risking your life,” she says. “I won’t stand here and wait to hear whether you come back or not.”
Something sharp twists in my chest at that.
I step closer, lowering my voice, forcing her to focus only on me.
“You won’t have to wonder,” I say. “Because Iwillcome back. But I need to know you’re safe while I make sure of that.”
Silence stretches between us. Tense. Fragile.
She’s not convinced, but she doesn’t move. Doesn’t look away.
“I want to go out there,” she says finally, her voice quieter now but no less certain. “I want to find Anton myself.”
Of course she does.
I lift my hands to her face, holding her there—making sure she looks at me. Then I lean down and press a kiss to her forehead. Slow. Grounding.
“I promise you something,” I say.
