Page 109 of Mafia King's Broken Vow
“We need to get you both out of here,” Aleksander says, appearing beside us, weapon drawn. “We have Pablo. Our men are pushing the Colombians back. Our window is now.”
With Mila’s help, I rise, ignoring the pain radiating from my shoulder. Aleksander covers us as we make our final dash to the SUV, bullets kicking the pavement around our feet. I keep Mila pressed to my side, using my body to shield her even as she supports my weight.
The vehicle door closes behind us and then we’re accelerating, tires screaming on wet pavement as our driver executes a perfect escape maneuver. In the relative safety of the backseat, Mila immediately turns her attention to my wound.
“Let me see,” she demands, gently peeling back the torn fabric.
I sit still, allowing her to examine me with a clinical detachment that does nothing to mask the concern in her eyes. Her fingers are gentle but firm as they probe the injury.
“Clean through. You’re lucky,” she says, her voice catching slightly. “Two inches to the right and?—”
“But it wasn’t,” I interrupt, catching her hand in mine. “I’m still here.”
“Thank you,” she whispers. “For saving me.”
“I always will,” I tell her, the words emerging with an intensity that surprises even me. “No matter where, no matter when.”
Her eyes darken at my declaration, and she leans forward, pressing her forehead to mine. “I know.”
Those two words break through barriers I’ve held since Ana’s death. She knows. She sees me—the monster and the man—and chooses to believe in the latter.
The SUV races toward the safety of the mansion, and I know the reckoning awaits. Breaking security protocols, engaging directly in combat—all violations that won’t go unpunished. Igor will be furious. Nikolai calculating. The fragile trust I’ve been building could shatter in an instant.
Yet with Mila’s hand in mine, her steady presence beside me, I find I cannot regret a single decision that led us here.
“What happens now?” she asks quietly, as if reading my thoughts.
“They’ll question us. Look for inconsistencies. Assess my loyalty, your judgment.”
“And then?”
I could offer her reassurance I can’t guarantee. But she deserves better than comforting falsehoods.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Best case, they recognize the tactical advantage of my involvement and extend my privileges. Worst case…” I don’t finish the thought.
“They won’t send you back to confinement,” she says with surprising conviction. “They need you. Pablo’s just the beginning, and they know you understand cartel operations better than anyone.”
Her faith in my position is touching, if optimistic. “It’s not that simple. Sokolov’s wanted me eliminated from the beginning. They only agreed to this arrangement because Galina and my father convinced them of my potential value. Tonight, I disobeyed orders. That calls my loyalty and usefulness into question.”
“Then we’ll make them understand that you’re more valuable with me than without me,” she says, that determined glint in her eye that I’ve come to recognize—and admire. “That we’re stronger together than apart.”
The conviction in her voice kindles dangerous hope. I’ve spent so long calculating odds, anticipating betrayal, expecting the worst. Hope is dangerous. I haven’t allowed myself that luxury since Ana died in my arms.
As the mansion gates come into view, I pull Mila closer, needing one more moment of connection before we face whatever comes next.
“No matter what happens,” I say against her hair, “remember that everything I did tonight was my choice. My decision. You bear no responsibility for the consequences.”
She pulls back to look at me, fierce protectiveness in her expression. “We’re in this together, Yakov.”
The SUV stops, and I see them waiting—Igor, his expression thunderous; Nikolai, strategizing as always. Judgment waits on their faces.
Before we exit, I take Mila’s face in my hands, memorizing every feature as if it might be the last time. “Stay strong,” I whisper.
“You too,” she replies, then presses her lips to mine in a kiss that feels like both promise and defiance.
As we step into the night, her hand finds mine one last time before Bratva security separates us. The physical distance isimmediate and painful, but something of her remains with me—warmth where cold calculation once lived.
I’ve been their monster for years. Tonight, for her, I’ll try to be the man she sees in me.
