Page 108 of Gilded Shackles
Viktor goes quiet.
"We just want peace," Elle says softly. "I want to grow tomatoes. Maybe a whole army of Nikolais. But no more guns. No more blood. I know it sounds ridiculous, and I'm not judging anyone who stays. But we're done."
Long beat of silence.
Then Viktor laughs. "You always were trouble, Elle. The only woman wild enough to make my nephew walk away."
"You're not mad?" She looks almost afraid. "We want you in our lives. Even more than now. You're family. I want that for our children. But I never want to see another gun in our house."
I squeeze her thigh.
Viktor's smile softens. "After everything you've been through, you deserve the lives you want. Your father would have wanted that for you."
Elle's hand trembles in mine. "You think so?"
"I have to tell you something," he says quietly. "I didn't just know of your father. I knew him. Personally. Stephan and I came up together, years ago, before everything fell apart. His sister was Galina back then — a different name, a different face. By the time she resurfaced as Gayle Donovan, I'd buried Stephan's memory along with everyone connected to him. I never saw the woman standing in front of me for who she really was. That's something I'll carry."
"You what?" Elle's voice is faraway.
Viktor's face turns anguished. "He was a good man, Elle. Better than most of us ever were."
"You're serious?" Her voice hitches.
"He was Bratva, yes, but the good kind. The kind who got in for family and tried to leave before it ruined him. Smart. Honest. As honest as a man in this life can be."
Elle breathes out something like a laugh. "Sounds like a unicorn."
"I didn't know who you were until Nikolai came to me that night. When he told me Gayle had you, I thought, what kind of mother does that? So I dug. And found the truth." He pauses. "Too late to save them. But not too late to save you."
Elle looks at the floor. Her hand finds her stomach again.
"I never knew," she says quietly. "She never had photographs. I used to ask about my dad all the time. She never gave me a straight answer."
Viktor reaches into his jacket and pulls out a thin wooden box.
"These are yours." He holds it out. "Some pictures I managed to find. So you can see where you come from."
Elle opens the box. And for the first time in a long time, I see her cry without fear. Not pain. Just grief. For the little girl who never got to know the truth.
She hugs Viktor like he's family. Because he is.
"Thank you," she says, voice thick. "I needed this."
Viktor looks at me over her shoulder. I nod. Throat too tight to speak.
"You did good," I tell him.
"I always do."
Elle kisses my cheek, clutches the box, and heads inside, staring at it like it's absolution.
Viktor turns to me. "You're really done?"
"Yeah." A rueful smile. Happiness for what's ahead. Sadness for what I'm leaving behind.
He nods. "I'll hold the line. And when Pasha's ready..."
"Pasha wants to build robots. He's a total nerd."
