“But you…” he continued, his words becoming slurred. “You have the potential for an amazing future. And it’s not at the end of a gun held by the Pakhan of the fucking Bratva.” A faint smile ghosted across his lips. “It’s currently waiting at your house for you to come home. If you’d just pull your head out of your ass long enough to finally realize it.”
I shifted my gaze from him, staring into space. “I’m not sure I can think about a future with Ariana or anyone until I find Sarah. Until I know for certain.”
“And what if you never do?”
I parted my lips, searching for a response. But I didn’t have one.
So I remained silent instead.
Chapter Eleven
Ariana
“How was Blake today?” I asked Henry when he rounded the corner into the kitchen after finally getting home a little past seven.
“Getting better,” he responded, pressing a soft kiss to my temple. “They want him to stay a few more days for observation, but his scans look good.”
“That’s great. I’m sure he’s looking forward to getting out of there.”
“He is.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “But they don’t want him traveling just yet, so I told him he can come stay here.”
“I assume that means we’ll be staying here, too?”
He nodded. “Is that okay? If you’d like to go back to Georgia to be with your mother, I’ll take you. But Blake’s still pretty banged up. I should be here to help him recover.”
I set the knife down and hoisted myself onto my toes, looping my arms around his shoulders. “Wherever you are is where I want to be.”
He lowered his lips to mine, his kiss soft but still full of hunger. “How the hell did I get so lucky to find you?”
“Easy.” I smirked. “You stalked me. Then kidnapped me. And despite you frustrating me to no end, I still somehow fell in love with you.”
The corner of his mouth lifted into a lazy smile. “We’ll have quite the story to tell the grandkids one day.”
It was an innocent statement. One I’d heard couples laugh and joke about countless times.
But it hit me differently today.
For years, my future was a prison with no escape. Just Victor. His rules. His control. His wrath.
I’d trained myself not to imagine anything beyond surviving that day. That hour. That minute.
Hope was dangerous.
It only made the cage feel smaller.
The noose around my neck to feel tighter.
The shackles around me to feel heavier.
Now I was free.
I had been since I woke up in Henry’s cabin.
Even more so now that Victor was dead.
But it still felt fragile. Like I’d soon wake up back in that gilded prison.
It would take a while for this new reality to really sink in. Especially after the hell I’d been living for the past ten years.
