Page 137 of The Last Hope

“Goodnight, Mom,” they replied in unison as I left the room, smiling—though the smile faded the moment I shut the door. Leaning against it, I closed my eyes.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Calm down, Selina, calm down.

But I couldn’t. He wasn’t here. I had thought I was safe. I had thought I was free. But even now, he still had his grip on me, on my body—and on my baby’s.

My breath shortened, my vision narrowed, and my limbs felt heavy.

I jumped when a loud noise echoed from downstairs, followed by shouting—including Nikolai’s voice. I moved cautiously toward the stairs, gripping the railing as I descended.

“What do you mean they recovered him ? How did they know the location ?!” Nikolai roared.

“I don’t know, dammit ! David says two of our men are dead, and Marcus is seriously injured. They’re heading to the hospital,” Roman replied darkly.

At the entrance to the living room, I saw Roman pacing, Nikolai rubbing his face, Sasha furiously typing on his phone, while Grigori and Elif spoke in hushed tones.

Elif noticed me first and frowned, “Selina ? Sweetheart, what’s wrong ?” she asked.

Before she even finished the sentence, Nikolai had an arm wrapped around my waist, lifting my face to his, concern etched into his features.

“Talk to me,Solnyshko,” he murmured.

I tried to speak, but my tongue felt heavy. I couldn’t seem to breathe. My legs gave out, trembling, and Nikolai caught me before I collapsed.

“Selina !” Sienna cried, rushing in from the kitchen.

“She’s having a panic attack,” Nikolai growled, lifting me off the floor and placing me on the couch. He sat beside me, pulled me close, and pressed my cheek to his chest.

“You need to calm down,Solnyshko. Focus on my voice,” he whispered, rocking me gently.

I tried to listen, but the buzzing in my head was too loud. It drowned everything out.

“I… he… I want him gone,” I finally choked out against my husband’s chest. His arms tightened around my trembling body. “I can’t live like this anymore…”

“Shhh. Everything’s okay, Selina. He won’t touch you again. Never again,” Nikolai promised, soft but dark.

My sister reappeared with a glass of water and helped me sip it as I struggled to breathe.

“You’ll be fine, Selina,” she reassured me, rubbing my back.

I nodded slowly as the fog of panic lifted, leaving me exhausted and embarrassed under all their watchful eyes.

“I’m sorry…” I began, but Nikolai rose, gently pulling my face to his neck.

“We’re going to bed. Sasha, Roman, I want a full report of what happened tonight,” his two younger brothers nodded, and Nikolai was already carrying me up the stairs.

“You’re okay,Solnyshko,” he whispered, kissing my forehead. He set me on the bed, closed the door with his foot, then knelt in front of me to remove my slippers and socks.

He lifted my left foot carefully, pressing a kiss to the inside of my ankle. I shivered. His gaze darkened as he examined the small bandage beneath. My hands slid to his cheeks, guiding his face toward mine before I kissed him softly—then pulled back.

“I love you, Nikolai Ivanov. My friend, my confidant, my protector, the father of my sons, my husband,” I whispered against his lips, my thumbs caressing his cheekbones as our eyes locked.

“I hated these past eight years. I regretted every day, every hour, and every minute. But I’m ready, Nikolai. I’m ready to relive every second of that torture if it means ending up here. In your arms. As your wife. As the mother of our sons.”

He exhaled slowly, as though he’d been holding his breath for years, “ah, Selina. My everything,” he murmured, before kissing me—this time, more deeply.

I soon found myself lying on the bed, my hands sliding from his face to his neck, then down his arms to his elbows as he braced himself on either side of me.

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