Page 93 of Blood Oath Christmas
My hands clench into fists. "He was protecting you both."
"I know that. You know that. But she…" Ivy shakes her head. "She refuses to see it that way. When I told her about the baby, I thought maybe that would change something. Her first grandchild. But she just said she won't have anything to do with a Mafia baby."
The rage that builds in my chest is swift and hot. How dare that woman hurt Ivy like this? My wife should be surrounded by love and support, not dealing with her mother's selfish bitterness.
"I'm sorry,moya lyubov," I murmur, cupping her face in my hands. "You deserve better than that."
"I saw Dad afterward," she continues, leaning into my touch. "He wasn't surprised by her reaction. Said he knew she'd never forgive him." Her voice quavers slightly. "We talked for hours. About everything. About why he had to disappear, about watching me from afar all these years. It's going to take time, but I think we can rebuild our relationship."
"He's a good man," I tell her honestly. "He made an impossible choice to keep you safe."
"Like you did with Maksim." Her words are quiet, but they hit their mark.
I close my eyes, the pain still fresh. "That was different."
"Was it?" She shifts to face me fully. "You both made hard choices to protect the people you love. The difference is Dad'schoice worked out. Yours…" She touches my cheek gently. "I know it still hurts."
It does hurt. More than I want to admit. Maksim was like a brother to me, and his betrayal feels like losing family all over again. But I can't let that weakness show, not even to Ivy.
"He made his choice," I say firmly. "I made mine."
She studies my face for a long moment, then nods. "What happens now? With Vadim gone?"
"Now we move forward." I pull her closer, my hand settling over her still-small bump. "I met with the other families yesterday. With Vadim dead and the evidence of his betrayals, they agreed to a truce. The hits on you are called off. You won't have to testify since there's no case left to testify for."
Relief floods her features. "So it's really over?"
"It's over." I lean down to kiss her, slow and deep. "You're safe. Our baby is safe. That's all that matters now."
When we break apart, she's looking at me with that expression that makes my heart race—desire mixed with love, trust mixed with need. Even pregnant, even after everything we've been through, she still looks at me like I'm her whole world.
"Konstantin," she whispers, and the way she says my name is like a prayer.
I don't need any more invitation. I lift her easily, carrying her toward our bedroom. The blood oath I swore to her father is fulfilled. Ivy is safe, protected, loved. But my commitment to her goes far beyond duty now. She's my wife, my heart.
As I lay her down on our bed, her hands already working at the buttons of my shirt, I know that everything I've done, every hard choice, every sacrifice, has led to this moment. To her. To us.
"You're everything to me," I whisper against her lips, my fingers threading through her silky hair. The afternoon lightfilters through our curtains, casting a golden glow across her skin.
She pulls back to look at me, her blue eyes bright with unshed tears. "I love you, Konstantin. All of you. Even the dark parts you think I can't handle."
Her acceptance undoes me completely. I kiss her deeply, pouring all my love, my gratitude, my devotion into the connection between us. Her lips are soft and warm, tasting faintly of the tea she was drinking. When she sighs against my mouth, the sound goes straight through me.
My shirt falls away under her eager hands, and I take my time removing her clothes. My oversized shirt slides over her head, revealing the lace bra that makes her skin look like porcelain. Her body is changing with our growing child, her breasts fuller, her hips more curved. She's never been more beautiful.
"You're perfect," I murmur, pressing kisses along her collarbone. "Absolutely perfect."
She arches beneath me, her hands mapping the planes of my chest, tracing old scars with gentle fingers. Each touch is a promise, a pledge of forever. When I trail my lips down to the gentle swell where our baby grows, she gasps softly.
"Our family," she breathes, her fingers tangling in my hair.
The reverence in her voice, the way she looks at me like I'm her hero instead of the monster I know I can be, it breaks something open inside my chest. I worship every inch of her skin, taking my time, savoring each soft moan and whispered endearment.
When we finally come together, it's with a tenderness that makes my throat tight. This isn't just physical release, it's communion, completion, coming home. Her body welcomes mine like we were made for this, for each other.
"Moya lyubov," I whisper against her throat as she moves with me, her body warm and pliant beneath mine. "My love. My life."
She cries out softly, her nails digging into my shoulders as pleasure builds between us. I watch her face, memorizing every expression, every flutter of her lashes. This woman who chose me despite everything, who sees good in me when I can't see it myself.
