Page 106 of Vendetta Vows

Bringing his hand to my lips, I press a soft kiss against his knuckles.

"Thank you," I murmur against his skin.

"For what?" His voice is a low rumble in the darkness.

"For being here."

He pulls me closer in response, his lips brushing my forehead.

The question about the Garza girl that Mikayla mentioned hovers on the tip of my tongue. Part of me aches to know the full story, to understand the shadows that cross Ruslan's face whenever his past surfaces.

But now isn't the time. Not when he's holding me like I'm something precious, something worth protecting. Not when the nightmare's chill is only just leaving my bones.

Some truths can wait for daylight.

For now, I just want to be with him. Not the pakhan, not the protector, not the man with the tragic past. Just Ruslan. Just this moment where I feel more myself than I have in seven years.

Ruslan's breath is warm against my ear as he whispers, "Mikayla told me you two had a talk while I took the little ones for ice cream."

My body stiffens slightly. "She did?"

His fingers trace idle patterns on my hip. "She said you're a good person. Which makes me curious what you discussed."

I hesitate, carefully choosing my words. "She told more about your world. About the expectations from the bratvas."

Now it's his turn to tense. I feel his chest hardening against my back. The arm draped over my waist grows heavier, as if he's bracing himself.

"What else?" His voice carries an edge now.

"Just... things I should understand if I'm marrying into this family."

Silence stretches between us, filled only by our breathing. I wonder if I should say more.

Finally, Ruslan sighs. "She told you about Lev and Tamara's marriage, didn't she?"

"Yes." No point lying. "She did."

"And?"

"She told me about the screams she heard behind their bedroom door." I swallow hard. "About what Tamara went through."

Ruslan's arm tightens around me, not possessively but as if seeking comfort. "The Lev I knew and the Lev that Tamara lived with... sometimes I can't believe they were the same person."

I place my hand over his, squeezing gently.

"Lev was my protector when we were children." His voice is barely audible. "He'd kept me safe from our father the best he could. He taught me how to ride a bike. How to throw a punch."

I turn in his arms to face him, finding his golden eyes troubled in the moonlight.

"But I also knew what he was with Tamara..." He shakes his head. "And it makes me feel guilty."

"Why would you feel guilty?"

"Because..." He hesitates, his thumb brushing across my cheek. "Because part of me knows that she wasn't wrong. She wanted me to save her. But…"

I wait for Ruslan to continue, watching his face in the moonlight. His chiseled features seem cast in shadow, like he's recalling a memory he's tried to bury.

"I could never be her savior," he finally says, his voice rough. "Not after what she did."

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