Page 21 of Filthy Lies

I don’t ask what happened to my captors. Those of them that lived, that is. I don’t need to. The cold fury in his eyes tells me everything.

Yet when he looks back at Sofiya, that fury melts away instantly, replaced by a tenderness so profound it makes my breath catch.

“May I hold her?” he asks hesitantly.

“Of course.”

I carefully transfer our daughter into his arms. He cradles her with such extreme gentleness, as if she’s made of the most delicate glass. His massive hands, capable of such violence, now support her tiny head with infinite care.

It’s so strange to see such damaged skin against such a perfect form of the same thing. Vince has tattoos and scars and sinew standing out like tension cables in his knuckles. Sofi is pure, soft, unblemished.

And yet somehow, they belong together.

“Hello, little one,” he whispers. “I’m your father.”

Sofiya blinks up at him. Her newborn blue eyes are unfocused but somehow seem to look straight into his soul.

“I will never let anyone hurt you,” he continues. “I swear it on my life.”

“She knows,” I say softly. “She already knows who you are.”

Vince looks up at me, his eyes suspiciously bright. “And who am I?”

“Her protector. Her father.” I reach out to touch his face. “The man who moved heaven and earth to find us.”

He turns his face into my palm, pressing a kiss there. “I was almost too late.”

“No.” I shake my head firmly. “You came exactly when we needed you most.”

Sofiya makes a small whimper, and Vince immediately adjusts his hold, rocking her gently. The sight of him so completely wrapped around our daughter’s tiny finger makes my heart swell in a way it will never undo.

He carefully returns Sofiya to my arms. I settle her against my chest, where she nuzzles instinctively.

“I never felt strong before today,” I muse after a comfortable silence passes us by.

“You’ve always been strong, Rowan,” Vince says. “From the first moment I saw you. But today…” He shakes his head, seemingly at a loss for words. “What you did—there is no greater strength than that.”

Tears fill my eyes. “I was so scared, Vince. So scared they would take her from me.”

“No one will ever take her from us.” The promise in his voice is absolute. “I won’t allow it.”

“Neither will I.” My arms tighten around Sofiya. “I would have killed that woman if she’d tried to take her. I would have done it without hesitation.”

Instead of being shocked by my admission, Vince nods with understanding. “That’s what it means to be a parent. To be willing to do whatever it takes.”

“Even terrible things,” I whisper.

“Even terrible things,” he agrees. “But we do them so she never has to.”

Another silence swallows us up. It ought to feel heavy, this acknowledgment that we would cross any line to protect our child.

But it doesn’t feel heavy in the least. It feels like clarity. Like purpose.

He leans forward and presses his forehead to mine. Our breath mingles in the space between our faces. He smells like clean male sweat, like gunpowder, like Vince.

And for as long as he’s touching me, the world outside ceases to exist. There is no Bratva, no enemies, no blood feud.

Just us. Just family.

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