Page 96 of Vendetta Crown

I lean against the wall, suddenly feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me.

"She said that hearing Tamara's voice reminded her that it's her mother that I'm talking about killing," I exhale slowly. "She told me that the idea of never hearing that voice again shook her."

I don't mention how it shook me too. Not out of any affection for Tamara, but because of the ripple effects her death would create.

"It reminds me so much of you," I continue. "How you relived your trauma on set. How you reacted when you previewed the documentary. But most importantly, it reminds me of the gravity of what I'm about to do. What I'm about to order."

Aurora's eyes soften. "You're conflicted."

"Part of me still wants blood for what Tamara did to Lev and Mikhail." My jaw tightens. "But another part can't stop thinking about the trauma I'd create with her death. Not just for Mikayla, but for Stella and Sofia as well."

I look into Aurora's eyes, searching for clarity. "What should I do, zarechka? I've lived so long in a world where the only justice is blood. I don't know if there's another way."

Aurora steps closer, her hand finding mine. "Sometimes, maybe the best thing you can do is to be merciful."

"Even if the other person doesn't deserve mercy?" I ask.

"That's the only time youcanbe merciful." Her voice is gentle but firm. "You can be merciful to Tamara without absolving her of her sins for what she's done. There is a path there you can take, Ruslan. And I'm sure you can find it."

25

AURORA

I can't sleep.Not with the twins using my ribs as a percussion set.

I shift to the window seat, my reflection ghostly against the dark grounds of the estate. The security lights cast long shadows across the manicured lawn. Guards patrol in pairs, their silhouettes moving like chess pieces across a deadly board.

"There you are." Ruslan's voice comes warm and sleepy from behind me. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"Our children won't settle tonight," I whisper, hand curved over my belly. "I think they're planning a jailbreak."

He settles beside me, our bodies fitting together like we were designed as matching pieces. His hand covers mine, and for a moment, we both feel the insistent flutter beneath my skin.

"What's on your mind,zarechka?" His breath tickles my ear. "Besides our little acrobats."

I lean into him, drawing strength from his solidity. "I've been thinking about what I said earlier. About being merciful to Tamara. About letting Mikayla keep that connection."

"Are you having second thoughts?"

"No. But also yes." I sigh, struggling to articulate the complex emotions swirling inside me. "I meant what I said about mercy. But I'm worried my advice comes from my own grief, and not what's best for everyone."

Ruslan waits, giving me space to find my words.

"When I look at Mikayla, I see all the calls I never got to make to my mom over the last seven years. All the moments stolen from me." My voice falters. "All the times I've wanted to ask her advice but couldn't."

He strokes my hair. "You didn't want Mikayla to miss out on what could be her final chance to hear her mother's voice."

"But is that wise? Tamara tried to kill you. She helped murder her own son. She worked with Kristofer.She's dangerous. We can't afford to make mistakes. Not now."

"She is," Ruslan agrees, no judgment in his voice. "But your compassion isn't a mistake."

"Do you really think that it isn't? Because everything in the bratva world seems to thrive on punishing compassion. I'm scared my feelings about my parents cloud my judgment."

"Your heart sees things mine can't. And for that, we're stronger together." His warmth envelops me and he presses a gentle kiss to my ear. "Don't ever doubt that."

I feel a little better as Ruslan's words sink in. His faith in me is unwavering, even when my own confidence falters. I rest my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat while our babies continue their gymnastics inside me.

"Maybe we need something positive to focus on," I suggest, the idea forming as I speak it. "Something to celebrate rather than worry about."

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