Page 30 of Tattooed Vow

“She was the first constant I’d ever had. I protected her because she reminded me there was something worth protecting.”

I stare at my fingers wrapped around the mug, distant memories hovering in the back of my mind. “Sometimes I wonder if that’s all I’m good at—protecting other people.”

Dimitri slowly places his mug on the table. “And who protected you?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “No one. I protected myself.”

His gaze burns into me. “You’re not alone anymore.”

The words cut deep. I don’t answer.

“You deserved better,” he growls softly.

“Didn’t we all?” I force a smile, pulling the hoodie's sleeves past my fingertips.

After a moment, I shift the conversation. “I know your father died in a car accident. But what was your life like before that?”

Dimitri leans back in his chair, his expression unreadable. Talking about himself doesn’t come naturally. That much was obvious. But the way he looks at me suggests he’s willing to try.

“We lived outside of Kazan. I was a baby. I don’t remember him. Just stories. My mother said he was quiet and hardworking. A good man. She met Otets not too long after my father died. She needed stability. Otets gave her that.”

He stands and pours each of us another cup of coffee.

“They were married by the time I turned one. Aleksandr was born a year after that. A few years later Otets moved us to America.”

“But he wasn’t exactly father-of-the-year material, was he?”

“No. He was powerful. Dangerous and cold. But he loved my mother—at least in his way. And he raised Aleksandr like a prince. I was…tolerated.”

My heart aches at that. “You were just a kid.”

He shrugs a gesture that carries decades of carefully managed hurt. “Kids grow up. And in his world, love was earned. I figured out how to make myself useful. How to be loyal and follow orders without question.”

“And Aleksandr?”

A shadow passes over Dimitri's face. “He always looked out for me. When no one else would.” A glimmer of emotion crosses his face. Gratitude, maybe, or pain. “We learned how to survive in that house together. When Otets died, Aleksandr took everything. And I never once questioned following him.”

“And now?”

“Now I question everything,” he admits.

I truly see him then. The man who held me so gently last night, like I might shatter, and kissed me with the desperation of someone famished now offers me breakfast as if it's normal and we are a couple.

But we aren’t. Not really. We are fire and scars and a war that hasn’t ended yet.

“Last night…” I begin, stumbling over my words, trying to figure out what I’m trying to say. “It meant something.” I chew on my bottom lip. “But I don’t know if I’m ready for what that means.”

His eyes track the movement of my teeth on my lip before rising to meet my gaze again. Something softens in his expression.

“You don’t have to be.” His voice is calm and steady but restrained. “I just need you to know I meant it. All of it.”

I nod slowly, my heart twisting. The memory of his words whispered against my skin flooded back. Beautiful, dangerous promises I’m not sure he can keep.

“Morozov’s still out there,” I whisper. “Still coming for me. And we both know why.”

“Because he knows you matter to me,” Dimitri responds without hesitation.

That simple truth fractures the walls I built around my heart. “I'm not used to mattering,” I mutter.

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