Page 160 of Vendetta Crown

My fingers tremble as I reach out, touching the screen where my children float safely in their private universe. Their hearts continue their steady rhythm, the most beautiful sound I've ever heard.

Relief floods through me, so powerful it steals what little breath I have left. I turn to Ruslan and see tears streaming down his face, matching my own.

"They're okay," I whisper, my voice breaking. "Our babies are okay."

The technician wipes the gel from my belly with practiced efficiency and then she wheels the machine away.

The door shuts and my body surrenders to the weight of everything.

The fight, the terror, the relief.

I sink back against the hospital pillows, my good hand still clinging to Ruslan's like it's the only solid thing in this spinning universe.

Tears stream down my face, but they're different now. Clean. Healing.

"We did it," I whisper, my voice scraping against my swollen throat. "All of it."

Ruslan leans forward, pressing his forehead against mine. "Semyon's dead. Kristofer's dead." His thumb traces gentle circles on my palm. "TheVorianswers to me now."

I close my eyes, letting the reality wash over me. "It doesn't feel real yet."

"None of it would have happened without you." The raw honesty in his voice makes me open my eyes again. "I couldn't have done this without you."

Despite everything—the pain, the hospital smell, the lingering terror—I feel my lips curve into a smile. "And I couldn't have faced Kristofer without you."

"You're the one who plunged that knife into his throat," Ruslan reminds me, a hint of pride coloring his voice. "Not me."

"Well, somebody had to kill him." I squeeze his hand. "Couldn't leave you with all the fun."

Ruslan chuckles, the sound warm and rich. "No damsel in distress, just like you told me that first night."

"Except for the part where you literally carried me out of a burning building moments before it collapsed. Talk about cliché."

"Maybe we should include that in the next script." He leans closer, his stubble tickling my skin.

"So I can tear it apart for how unrealistic it is?" But I'm smiling as I say it, feeling the heaviness in my chest lifting with each breath.

"You love it."

"I love you," I correct him, the words falling easily from my lips.

Ruslan's eyes soften, his golden pupils melting like honey. He runs his thumb across my cheek, careful to avoid the bruises that are still tender to the touch.

"I love you, too,zarechka," he whispers.

Somehow, this time, the words feel different.

It's like all our "I love yous" before were just practices for this exact moment.

Maybe it's the way we nearly lost everything. Maybe it's surviving when the odds were stacked against us. Or maybe it's just the miracle of our children's heartbeats echoing in the room.

Whatever it is, these three words carry more weight than all the others combined.

"I love you," I repeat, needing to feel the shape of those syllables again. My voice is still raspy from what Kristofer did to my throat, but I've never meant anything more in my life. "I love who we've become together."

Ruslan doesn't look away from my eyes as he leans forward. His lips brush against mine like a whispered promise, gentle enough not to hurt my battered body but firm enough to seal our vow.

The kiss deepens, not with passion but with something more profound—a recognition that we've faced our monsters and won. That whatever comes next, we'll face it together.

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