Page 70 of Tattooed Vow

Tears burn behind my eyes. “That doesn't change the fact that I'm putting them in danger just by being here.”

“The danger was always there,” Dimitri says firmly. “My brother's children were born into this life. The threats they face aren't because of you. They're because of us, because of the Avilov name.”

I shake my head, unconvinced. “Morozov wouldn't be targeting their home if I wasn't here.”

“Morozov and the Avilov Bratva have been enemies for years. If it wasn't you, he would find another excuse.” Dimitri's grip on my hands tightens slightly. “Sandy, look at me.”

Reluctantly, I raise my eyes to his.

“You are under my protection,” he stresses, each word deliberate. He pauses as if searching for the right words. “As someone important to this family. To me.”

My heart stutters. While I can run from bullets, there is nowhere to hide from the feelings that Dimitri stirs in me.

“There's something I need to tell you,” I whisper. It’s now or never. The day's events have made it clear that life is too uncertain, too precarious to keep this secret any longer.

Dimitri waits, his expression guarded but attentive.

I take a deep breath and clear my throat. “I'm pregnant,” I blurt, the words tumbling out in a rush. “It's yours. From that first night we were together. I wasn't sure how to tell you, or if I should, or what you would want me to?—”

His broad shoulders are rigid beneath his black tactical shirt, and his hands are clenched at his sides. My heart sinks. Of course, he doesn’t want this complication.

“Dimitri, I don't expect anything,” I say quickly. “I can leave, find somewhere?—”

“No.” The word is sharp, absolute. He turns back to me, and the expression on his face makes the words die in my throat. There is no anger there. No frustration or resentment. Instead, I see something I never expected. Vulnerability, naked and raw, breaking through his carefully maintained facade.

“You're not going anywhere, he continues, his voice softer now but no less firm. “Not you. Not my child.”

My breath catches. “You're...not angry?”

A flicker of confusion flashes in his eyes. “Why would I be angry about a child?Ourchild?”

“Because of the danger, the complication?—”

Dimitri moves suddenly, crouching before me again and taking my face gently in his hands. “A child is never a complication,malyshka. A child is a gift. A miracle.”

Warm tears spill down my cheeks, and he brushes them away with his thumbs. “But Morozov?—”

“Will never touch you or our baby,” he vows, a deadly promise in his eyes. “I will end this war with him once and for all, before our child is born. You have my word.”

I study his face, searching for any trace of hesitation or doubt. There is none. Only unwavering determination and a fire that sets my heart racing for reasons that have nothing to do with fear.

“I never thought I would have this,” Dimitri confesses quietly, his hand resting lightly against my stomach. “I told myself I didn't deserve a family. That it was enough to be uncle to my brother's children.”

I cover his hand with mine. “And now?”

“Now I find myself dreaming of things I have no right to dream of,” he breathes, the barest hint of a smile touching his lips. “A future. A family of my own.”

“With me?” I dare to ask.

“With you,” he confirms, and the certainty in his voice makes something tight in my chest unravel. “You’ll stay because you belong here…with me. You’re mine Sandy Davis and I’m never letting you go.”

The possessive word should bother me. It would have before I met Dimitri and was thrown into his world. But I understood now that in his vocabulary, to be “his” means to be cherished, protected, and valued above all else.

“And you'll be mine?” I counter, finding courage I didn't know I possessed.

His eyes darken, and he leans forward until our foreheads touch. “I have been yours since the moment I saw you stand your ground against a room full of Bratva men, refusing to be intimidated even when you were terrified.”

I laugh softly at the memory. “I thought you were going to have me disappeared.”

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