Page 39 of My Bratva Dom

Viktor’s gaze narrows, turning cold and assessing.

“You sure about this?”

I simply nod, not breaking eye contact.

He stares at me a long moment, like I’ve seen him do so many times. Breaking grown men with a single look. Then he nods, too.

“Fine,” he finally says, smiling faintly.

He stretches out a hand to me and I take it. We shake. And relief floods me.

Marie beams, practically glowing.

“Oh, I can’t wait to talk to Tina,” she gushes. I scowl and Marie laughs. “You’re in way over your head.”

I smirk. “I can handle her.”

“You sure about that?” Viktor drawls. “Because I’m pretty sure she’s been running you in circles since the day she showed up.”

Fuck, everyone knew.

“She’s mine now, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I find her on the balcony, curled up in one of the chairs, legs tucked under her, hair in a messy bun.

The city’s stretched out below, lights glittering in the distance, but I only see her.

Tina.

My sassy.

She’s been like this, quiet and thoughtful, like she’s carrying something heavy.

And I know what it is.

New York.

Her life, her job, her apartment, her friends, the career she’s been dreaming of. They’re all back there.

But none of that matters.

Because she’s not leaving.

She doesn’t notice me at first, too lost in her thoughts.

“Tina.”

Her head snaps up. “Oh.” She smiles, small and soft. “Hey, big guy.”

“Come inside, baby,” I say quietly.

“I’m okay.” She gestures toward the view. “Just needed some air.”

I shake my head, stretching a hand to her.

Her brow furrows. “What’s wrong?”

I crouch next to her, bringing her fingers to my lips.

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