Page 60 of Tattooed Vow

“Maybe I'm willing to pay it.” Her eyes search mine for something I’m not sure I can give her.

“You don't know what you're saying.” I step back, breaking the contact between us. “I’m hunting a man who has killed dozens without remorse. A man who would torture you to death just to hurt me. That is my reality. That is the world of the Bratva.”

“And what if I told you I don't want to live in that world?” she challenges. “What if there could be something else? Something beyond all this?”

For a moment, I allow myself to imagine it, a life beyond the violence and power struggles. Beyond the code of the Bratva that has defined me since I was a child.

But then reality comes slamming back in. Morozov is still out there, and the threat to Sandy remains. And I am still Dimitri Popov, second-in-command to my brother, thepakhanof the Avilov Bratva.

“First, we deal with Morozov,” I state. “Then we talk about possibilities.”

Sandy nods, understanding in her eyes. “Promise me one thing, Dimitri.”

“What?”

“Promise me you won't shut me out.” Her gaze is steady, unwavering. “Whatever happens, we face it together.”

I study her face, memorizing every detail as if it might be the last time I see her. Then, I make a decision that goes against every instinct I've honed over years of survival.

“Together,” I agree softly. “But you follow my lead when it comes to Morozov. No more secret meetings. No more risks.”

“Deal.” A small smile curves her lips. “What's our next move?”

“Now,” I say, pulling her gently against me, allowing myself this moment of comfort before the coming storm, “we find Morozov.”

22

SANDY

The morning light streams through the curtains of the guest bedroom in Aleksandr's estate, washing everything in a soft spring glow that should be comforting. Instead, I find myself hunched over the toilet for the third morning in a row, my stomach heaving until there is nothing left to expel. When the nausea finally subsides, I slump against the cool bathroom tiles, exhausted.

“This isn't food poisoning,” I mutter, pushing my tangled hair from my sweaty forehead.

I've been trying to ignore the signs for days now. The fatigue, tenderness, and missed period, which is a week late. Each symptom can be explained away by stress, and I know I’ve had plenty of that lately. But together, they point to something I’m afraid to face.

I hear a soft knock at the bathroom door. “Sandy? Are you okay in there?” Talia's concerned voice drifts through.

“Just peachy,” I croak, then immediately regret the sarcasm. My sister has been nothing but supportive since Nick and I broke up and through the chaos that has become my life.

The door cracks open, and Talia's face appears. Her hazel eyes widen as she takes in my pale complexion and how I’m practically hugging the toilet.

“This is the third morning,” she states. “You need to see a doctor.”

I shake my head. “It's nothing. Probably just a stomach bug.”

Talia enters the bathroom fully now, kneeling beside me. “I've seen you throw up at almost the same time three mornings in a row. You've been exhausted and cranky.” She pauses, her voice softening. “I wasn’t going to ask you this, but…when was your last period?”

I close my eyes, not wanting to admit what I already suspect. “I don't want to see the Bratva doctor,” I whisper.

“Is that because you think you might be pregnant?” she asks gently.

The word settles between us, loaded with meaning.Pregnant.I haven’t even allowed myself to think it, let alone say it.

“If I am...” I swallow hard. “If I am, I need time to process before Dimitri knows.”

Talia nods, understanding immediately. “I'll talk to Aleksandr. We'll go see a doctor in the city, somewhere discreet.”

“Morozov's still out there,” I remind her. “Aleksandr won't let us leave the estate, not after what happened to Nick.”

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