Page 134 of The Bratva Sinner

He moves to the edge of the bed and sits. He laces his hands together between his knees and looks at the floor. I see the exhaustion in his shoulders. I don’t know what he’s been doing tonight, but I have a good idea.

I can see the weight he carries that he never talks about. I’m desperate to share that burden. It’s mine to shoulder too.

“You’re planning my escape. You didn’t tell me because you knew if you told me, I’d say no.”

“Yes.”

“That’s manipulative.”

“It is.”

“And arrogant.”

He shrugs.

“It’s exactly what my mother did when I was a child.”

He looks up at me.

I move to the edge of the bed, so we’re sitting side by side. I look at the black diamond on my hand. The diamond that makes me his. And him mine to worry about.

“I was young and didn’t understand the danger. I couldn’t take care of myself and depended on her to keep me safe.” I pause and collect my thoughts. “But I’m not a child anymore, Maksim. I’m a grown-up. I know the risks. I’m your wife. Your partner. I am not your responsibility.”

He's perfectly still. Taking it.

“You don’t get to make those choices for me,” I say.

“You can be furious at me, but it won’t stop me,” he says quietly.

“Maksim.” I turn toward him fully on the bed. “I love you.”

Something shifts in him. I feel it before I see it.

“I know that’s probably inconvenient,” I say. “And I know we didn’t start this as something that was supposed to be real. Iknow you married me to solve a problem, and that’s all we were ever supposed to be.” I keep my eyes on his face even though part of me wants to look away. “But I love you. I love you, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to Portugal. I’m not going to leave you. You aren’t going to fight a war on my behalf alone.”

His throat moves.

"I don't know how to love you without trying to keep you alive," he says.

“You married me,” I say with a half-smile. “You’re stuck with me. That’s how it works. You don’t get to sacrifice yourself and then ship me off to live a life without you.” I reach out and put my hand over his. “I don’t need saving anymore. I needed it once, and you did it. That was enough.”

He looks down at my hand over his.

“I’m not fragile,” I say. “I know you know that. Stop treating me as the damsel in distress.” I squeeze his hand. “You hear me?”

When he looks up at me, I see guilt. And beneath it, recognition.

“I hear you,” he says.

“Good.”

He pulls me into his lap. I straddle him with my hands going to his face. I kiss him with everything I have. His arms come around me.

“Dammit, woman,” he groans into my mouth. "You make it very hard to save you."

He slides his hands up my back, pulling me closer. I feel how much he wants me, and I rock against him. I’m wearing one of his shirts, and my panties are damp with need for him.

"You're going to be the death of me, voinitsa."