Page 54 of Prey of the Bratva

“Do you regret coming here and everything that has happened between us since?”

The question should have been simple. It wasn’t.

“No,” she said without a pause.

“Good,” I said softly.

The air between us shifted after that. Subtly. Irreversibly. She stood first, moving toward the railing again, her steps steady now. There was no hesitation and no visible trace of the injury that had once slowed her down. I followed a moment later.

“What happens after this?” she asked, her gaze fixed ahead of us.

“After what?”

“After Sidorov. After Volkov. After the battle is over and we win.” I admired the confidence in her voice when she talked about winning. It felt as if it was no longer a question but something she was sure about. The question lingered between us, heavier than anything else she had said that night. I stepped closer, stopping just behind her.

“That,” I said quietly, “is for you to decide.”

She turned then, slowly, her eyes searching mine as if trying to measure the truth of it.

“You mean that? You will let the decision stay with me?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not trying to control the outcome?”

“No.”

She studied me for a long second. Then another.

“You’re changing,” she said.

“So are you.”

A faint smile touched her lips. “No. I’m becoming more of what I already was.”

That felt accurate. My hand moved before I thought about it, brushing a loose strand of hair back from her face. The motion was slower than it should have been. More careful. She didn’t pull away. Her breath shifted slightly, barely noticeable unless you were close enough to feel it. I was.

“You trust me,” she said quietly.

It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve given me no reason not to.”

“That’s not true,” she countered softly. “I’ve lied. I’ve withheld information. I’ve operated behind everyone’s back, including yours.”

“And still,” I said, “you chose to stay and trust me with the most important thing in your life right now.”

Her gaze dropped briefly to my mouth before returning to my eyes.

“That wasn’t entirely strategic.”

“I know.”

Silence stretched again, but this time it carried something else beneath it. Something sharper. Her hand came up slowly,resting against my chest, fingers curling lightly into the fabric of my shirt.