Page 83 of Toxic Attraction
"Mila." His voice cracks on her name. "Milaya, are you—"
She launches herself at him, and he catches her, holds her so tight I hear her gasp. His hands are shaking—Lev Volkov's hands are actually shaking—as he runs them over her hair, her back, checking for injuries he can't see.
"I'm okay, Papa." She's crying again. "Valerie saved me. The bad men came, and Valerie—she wouldn't let them take me—"
His eyes meet mine over her head.
The look there is indescribable. Terror and rage and relief and something else, something that makes my chest cavity feel too small.
"Let’s get you both inside."
He carries Mila. I follow on legs that barely work, Mikhail's hand steadying my elbow when I stumble.
The foyer is chaos—men everywhere, weapons out, securing perimeters. Elena appears, face pale, reaching for Mila.
"Take her upstairs." Lev's voice is pure command. "Stay with her. Don't leave her side."
Elena nods, takes Mila gently. The little girl reaches back for me. "Valerie—"
"I'm right here." I touch her hand. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."
She disappears up the stairs with Elena, Lev turns to me. "You're okay." He's saying it like a mantra, hands running over me the same way he checked Mila. "You're okay, you're safe, you're—"
"I'm fine." My voice sounds distant. Disconnected. "They didn't touch me."
"They almost did." His hands cup my face, forcing me to look at him. "I saw the footage, Valerie. I watched you run. Watched that bastard aim at your head. Watched you stand there and dare him to pull the trigger with my daughter in your arms."
Footage. Right. The guards have body cams.
"I couldn't let them take her." It's the only explanation I have. "I couldn't—"
"I know." He kisses my forehead, my cheeks, my mouth. Desperate, claiming kisses that taste like fear. "I know. You protected her. Risked your life. And I—"
His voice breaks completely.
I've never seen him like this. Never seen Lev Volkov come apart at the seams.
"I thought I was going to lose you both." The words come out strangled. "When Mikhail called, when he said shots fired, attackers on site—I thought I'd get there and find you dead. Find Mila gone. Find everything that matters ripped away again."
"But you didn't." I press closer, needing his solidity. "We're here. We're safe."
"Because of you." His grip tightens. "Because you're fucking fearless when it matters."
I want to tell him I wasn't fearless. I was terrified. But the terror got buried under rage, under the absolute certainty that no one was taking this child while I still breathed.
Mikhail approaches, face grim. "Boss. The survivor's secured in the basement. He's ready to talk."
Lev's expression goes cold. Murderous. "Good."
He releases me, and I see the shift—from terrified father to Bratva boss in a heartbeat.
"Stay with Mila." He's already moving toward the basement. "Don't leave this house. Don't leave her side."
"Wait—" I catch his arm. "Who were they? Why did they—"
"I'm about to find out." The promise in his voice is dark. Final. "And then I'm going to kill every single person involved."
He disappears down the corridor, Mikhail and three armed men following.
