Page 47 of Brutal Bratva’s Owned Hostage

“It was necessary regardless of Vale. But yes, it also serves that purpose. Everything in this world serves multiple purposes at once, usually. Rarely does an action mean only one thing.”

“I wonder when I’ll get used to it,” she admitted. “The uncertainty. Some days I almost do. Then something happens that reminds me exactly how fragile the ground under both of us actually is.”

“I know.”

“Do you actually know, or just say that because it’s the right thing to say in this conversation?” she asked, looking up at me with a lighter expression.

“I’ve lived inside this uncertainty my entire life, Val. I stopped noticing it as uncertainty a long time ago, because I never knew anything different. Watching you carry it, watching you learn to live inside something I’ve never had to consciously adjust to. I understand it costs you more than it costs me, even though we’re carrying the same threat.”

She was quiet for a moment, studying me with an intensity that felt like she was searching for something specific behind my expression. “That’s a thoughtful way of putting it.”

“Don’t get used to it. I have a reputation for recklessness to maintain.”

The joke landed lighter than I expected as a small smile finally broke through her face. I felt something in my own chest ease slightly at the sight of it.

“I’m going to need time,” she told me, her tone more serious. “To process everything from tonight. Not just Varley. All of it. Vale. The reception. The fact that I’m apparently married to a man capable of ending a life in under two seconds without his hand shaking afterward.”

“Take whatever time you need. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not going to rush you toward feeling settled about any of this faster than you actually are.”

“Thank you for that.”

“You don’t need to thank me for basic decency, Val.”

“Maybe not. I’m still going to, though. It matters.” She squeezed my hand once, something steadying passing between us despite everything the evening had put between us.

I pulled her closer, wrapping my arms around her properly for the first time since we’d left the lounge, feeling some of the rigid tension finally start to leave her shoulders as she let herself lean into the embrace.

We stood there in the quiet entryway for a long moment, neither of us speaking. Then I led us into our bedroom, shutting the door and turning to face her again.

“You’re important to me. More than you know,” I said, the words arriving with a suddenness that surprised even me, though the truth of them had clearly been building for longer than I’d consciously acknowledged. “I don’t think I’ve said that plainly before. I should have.”

She went still against me, pulling back slightly to look up at my face, something raw and unguarded moving behind her eyes.

“Dmitri.”

“I mean it. Whatever this started as, whatever calculations and necessity built the foundation of it, I want to keep you safe and happy. I should have told you that before tonight, before you had to watch me do something that terrifying without any context for the man underneath it.” I brushed a strand of hair back from her face, needing the small, grounding contact.

“You’re important to me, too. I care about you,” she said quietly, the words carrying a weight that settled something in my chest I hadn’t fully realized had been unsettled until that exact moment. “Even after tonight. Especially after tonight, somehow, though I don’t fully understand why that’s true yet.”

“Maybe we don’t need to understand it completely. Maybe it’s enough that it’s true.”

“Maybe. I think I need it to be simple for a few minutes. Just this. Just you telling me that, and me believing it.”

“Then let it be simple. Just for tonight.”

I kissed her slowly, and she kissed me back, her hands finding the front of my shirt the way they always did.

“Damn. Sexiest lips ever,” I slurred as we broke apart for air.

She hit my chest in mock scolding, chuckling even as she blushed.

I kissed her forehead and just stayed there, bringing my forehead to hers.

We were still standing there, foreheads pressed together, when the world exploded.

Glass shattered somewhere behind us, the sound of a window giving way under force rather than accident. I had Val pulled behind me before I could think, training overriding thought the same way it always did.

A bullet had torn through the bedroom window.