Page 119 of The Bratva Enforcer and His Virgin Bride

“She’ll be okay,” I say, my voice softening just a fraction as I look back down at her pale, peaceful face. “The bullet only grazed her. She just needs time.”

“Good,” Ben murmurs, relief visible in the tension leaving his shoulders. “We’ll find him for her, Boss. I’ll leave now.” He gives a short nod and quietly leaves the room, closing the door behind him to lock out the rest of the world.

Once we are alone again, the silence of the room envelops us, broken only by the rhythmic hum of the medical equipment. I lean over the mattress and gently lift her uninjured hand, bringing her knuckles to my lips. I press a long, lingering kiss against her skin.

“I love you, Sofia,” I whisper against her hand, the words a sacred vow in the quiet room. “I’ll finish this. For you.”

Chapter 27 – Sofia

The transition back to reality is a slow, agonizing crawl through a heavy, gray fog. At first, there is only the rhythmic, dull throb in my upper arm and a persistent, metallic hum echoing in my ears. The scent of sterile alcohol and clean linen slowly filters into my senses, forcing the lingering nightmares of smoke and gunfire to finally recede.

When I finally manage to flutter my heavy eyelids open, the midday sun is streaming through the sheer curtains of our master bedroom. Disorientation wraps around me for a brief second before my gaze drifts down to the side of the bed.

Lukyan is there.

He’s leaning back against the heavy leather chair, his jaw shadowed with several days of dark stubble, his eyes tightly closed. His massive hand is still wrapped securely around mine, even in sleep.

A pang of profound guilt squeezes my chest as I look at him. His jaw is tight, his brow furrowed as if he’s fighting a war in his dreams, and my heart aches when I notice the dark, dried blood staining the front of his shirt and caked along the side of his neck. He hasn’t left my side. Not even to wash the horror of that warehouse off his skin.

“Lukyan,” I croak, the sound barely more than a scratchy whisper. My throat feels like it’s lined with sandpaper, parched and completely dry.

His eyes immediately fly open, the dark gray depths instantly alert and sharp. In a split second, he is out of the chair and hovering over me, his hands framing my face with a desperate, trembling tenderness. The sheer, overwhelming relief that floods his features is breathtaking.

“Sofia,” he breathes, his voice thick with a raw emotion he rarely shows. He leans down, burying his face in the crook of myneck, pressing frantic, hot kisses against my cheek, my forehead, and my temple. “Bozhe, Sofia… thank you. Thank you for coming back to me.”

He pulls away just enough to look down into my eyes, his chest heaving as if he’s finally allowed himself to breathe after two days of suffocating. He reaches over to the nightstand, grabs the glass of fresh water waiting there, and gently slips his large hand behind my neck to support my weight as he lifts my head.

“Slowly,” he murmurs, tipping the glass against my cracked lips.

The cool water is heaven, soothing the burn in my throat. I take a few small sips before leaning back against the pillows, looking up at his exhausted, beautiful face. A faint, tired smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

“I came back because… because I knew you wouldn’t forgive me if I didn’t,” I whisper, throwing his own warning back at him.

Lukyan’s expression instantly hardens, though the warmth in his eyes remains. He sets the glass down with a heavy thud and glares at me, his jaw clenching. “This isn’t the time for jokes, Sofia. I’m mad at you. I’m absolutely furious.”

He runs a hand over his face, his voice cracking slightly. “I told you not to come. I told you what that place would be, and you insisted. You demanded to wade into the dirt, and you almost died in my arms. You have to listen to me from now on. No more negotiating when it comes to your safety.”

Looking at the caked blood on his shirt, remembering the absolute terror in his voice when I was shot, the last remnants of my defiance completely melt away. I realize now what I put him through.

“I will,” I say softly, reaching up with my uninjured arm to rest my palm against his rough cheek. “I’ll listen to you.”

The anger drains from his shoulders all at once, replaced by a deep, bone-weary exhaustion.

Without another word, Lukyan kicks off his boots and carefully climbs into the heavy bed beside me. He pulls me gently against his bare side, mindful of my bandaged arm, and wraps his massive frame around me like a shield, holding me so tightly against his chest that I can feel the steady, thudding rhythm of his heart finally returning to normal.

Lukyan rests his chin on the top of my head, his fingers tracing gentle, soothing patterns over my uninjured shoulder. “When you collapsed,” he begins, his voice dropping into a rough, low rumble that vibrates directly against my chest, “the entire world just stopped. I’ve spent my whole life calculating risks, Sofia. Managing assets, predicting betrayals, staying three steps ahead of my enemies. But when I saw your blood on my hands, the math failed. Losing you was never something I could accept. It’s not a risk I can manage.”

He shifts slightly, pulling back just enough to look down into my eyes with an absolute intensity that strips away every ounce of his usual calculation. “I love you. It’s that simple. And it makes me terrifyingly vulnerable, but I don’t care.”

Hearing the confession, stripped of his usual defensive armor, makes it feel entirely grounded and real. The near-loss has clarified everything for me as well, burning away the last of the conflict that used to twist my stomach. The connection between us is no longer tentative or weighed down by how we started.

“I love you too, Lukyan,” I respond softly, my hand sliding up to the back of his neck, anchoring him to me. “When the pain hit, I wasn’t afraid of dying. I was terrified I wouldn’t get to tell you that.”

A profound softness overrides the harsh lines of his face. He leans down and kisses me softly, his lips lingering againstmine with a sweet, desperate reassurance that seals the vow between us.

When he finally pulls back, resting his forehead against mine, the reality of our situation gently edges its way back into my mind. I look toward the corner of the room where the heavy tactical case is resting.

“What about the code?” I ask quietly. “And the books?”