Page 73 of Used By the Merciless Bratva
Inside, I lay her gently on the sofa. She looked fragile in the dim light, but her eyes never left mine.
On the table nearby sat the remnants of what so many had killed for—the Sivella Holdings documents. Pages bent, ink blurred from rain. Worth billions in the right hands. Worth nothing to me.
I picked them up, flipped through the sheets once, and then ripped them in half.
Katria jolted upright. “Danil, what are you doing?” she asked, her voice a low whisper.
I didn’t stop. Page after page tore under my hands, pieces falling like ash to the floor. “This isn’t what matters. This isn’t what Feliks died for. And it sure as hell isn’t what I’m going to lose for you.”
A strange relief softened her features. She slid off the sofa, kneeling in front of me, watching the last of the paper scatter.
She whispered, “You’d really throw all of that away for me?”
I met her gaze, unflinching. “For you, Kat, I’d burn the whole world down.”
Her lips trembled into the faintest smile, though her eyes shimmered with tears again. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against my knee.
“Then I don’t need anything else. Just you are enough. Just you and me.”
I pulled her up so she was on my lap. I cupped her chin and lifted her face, forcing her to meet my eyes. “You’ll always have me, Kat, and believe me, I’m going nowhere without you.”
“You know,” she murmured, tracing lazy circles against my chest, “you’re impossible when you’re jealous.”
I refused an eyebrow, half amused, half wary. “Jealous? Of who?”
“Of everyone,” she teased, her lips curving. “You glare at any man who so much as breathes near me.”
“That’s because most men don’t deserve the privilege,” I muttered. “And I don’t like sharing what’s mine. You’re mine, Kat, and you’re not shareable.”
Her laugh was soft, a fragile sound in the quiet room, but it carried warmth. “Possessive, aren’t you?”
“Protective,” I corrected, brushing a strand of wet hair from her face. “There’s a difference.”
“Mm.” She tilted her head, pretending to think. “What about Irene? You don’t glare at her, at all.”
I smirked faintly. “That’s because Irene knows better than to touch what isn’t hers.”
At that, Katria smiled and she hid her face against my chest, murmuring, “You’re ridiculous.”
But she was smiling, and for me, that was worth everything.
That was when Irene appeared at the doorway, her coat already on, suitcase in hand.
Katria sat up quickly. “Irene, you’re leaving?”
“My part in this story is done. I just need some time alone.”
Katria’s eyes sparkled once more, but this time it wasn’t sadness—it was thankfulness. She rose and moved across the room to hug Irene closely. “Thank you. For everything.”
Irene hesitated only a moment before returning the embrace.
“You’ve been given a chance most people don’t get. Don’t waste it,” she told my wife.
I nodded as I told Irene, “Safe travels.”
With a final glance between us, Irene left. The door clicked shut behind her, and silence settled again.
Katria leaned against the frame for a moment, exhaling. “She really cared, didn’t she?”
