Page 81 of Mafia King's Ruthless Obsession

When I hesitate, he pulls back slightly, confusion flickering in his eyes. For a man who rarely lets his mask slip, it’s like watching stone crack.

Then he lifts a hand to my cheek, thumb brushing softly along my jaw.

“I love you, Galina,” he says again, this time in English.

And just like that, I know I’ve never been safer.

Not because the danger is gone.

But because he’s choosing me. Every day. Every breath.

And I’m choosing him right back.

Chapter 24

Almost a Future

Vasiliyi

The words fall from my mouth before I can stop them.

“I love you.”

Fuck. It lands like a shot in the dark—loud, raw, irreversible. For a man like me, that confession is more dangerous than a bullet. And Galina just stares. Her lips part, still swollen from our last kiss, but no sound comes. Her eyes are wide. As if she’s waiting for me to laugh it off. To turn it into a joke.

But I don’t.

My heart pounds like I’m about to walk into an ambush. She swallows hard. Her armor cracks for half a breath—just long enough for me to see the tremble behind her eyes. I reach out, brushing my thumb along the edge of her cheekbone, memorizing the shape of her. She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look away. But she doesn’t speak either.

And that silence?

It’s a knife.

I brace myself to tell her I meant it—every word, every breath—but then she says, “I love you too.”

It’s barely a whisper. A break in her voice like wind over glass. But it cuts straight through me, slicing deeper than anything I’ve taken in a fight.

Before I can think, I’m kissing her. Hard. Desperate. My fingers bury themselves in her hair, pulling her close. I want to devour her. To crawl inside her skin and never leave. But I don’t. I can’t. She’s still healing. So I pour every ounce of control I have into keeping it soft.

She kisses me back like she’s trying to memorize the feel of my mouth, her nails biting into my forearm, anchoring us both. When I finally pull away, it’s only because we need air.

“I love you, Galina.” My voice comes out hoarse, thick with things I’ve never said. “With everything I am. I’ll burn this city to the fucking ground before I let anyone hurt you again.”

Her hand cups my jaw. “I love you, Vasiliy.” She says it like a vow. A surrender. A battle cry.

And just like that, I know she’s mine.

Mine to fight for. Mine to protect. Mine to love.

I bury my face in her hair, breathing her in. Sweetness and steel. Vanilla and fire. It smells like home. My arms wrap around her, possessive but tender, and I swear something breaks open inside me. Something dangerous and soft, coiling low and hot.

Let them try to come for her. Let them think they can touch her.

They’ll bleed for it.

“Good,” I murmur into her hair, meaning every word with the kind of conviction that leaves bodies in graves.

Then I scoop her into my arms.

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