Page 116 of Bratva Brother’s Bride

Her anger deflates. “I know,” she says, her voice softer. “I know you’re scared. I’m scared too; but I can’t live like this, Roman. I have to be able to stand on my own two feet, even with you beside me.”

I look at her. I see the strength in her, the resilience. I see the woman who survived three years with Dmitri, who faced down Anton and Konstantin without flinching. I see the mother of my child, the woman I love more than life itself.

She’s right. I’ve been treating her like something fragile, something to be protected, when what I should have been doing is treating her like an equal.

“Okay,” I say, the word tasting different this time. “Okay, fine. You can take the lead.”

Her eyes search mine, looking for the catch. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” I say, a small smile touching my lips. “But I stay close. If things go wrong, if you’re in danger, I’m stepping in. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

She considers it for a moment, her head tilted to the side. “What about your injuries?”

“I’ll sit in the back,” I say. “I’ll be your shadow. No one will even know I’m there until I need them to.”

She watches me in silence, giving nothing away. Then she nods, and I see the moment she gives in. “Alright,” she says. “You can come, but you let me handle it. Agreed?”

“Agreed. If you so much as hesitate, if I even think you’re in trouble, all bets are off.”

“Fair enough,” she says, a small smile touching her lips. “Now, are you going to get ready, or are you going to lie here and look pathetic while I go save the world?”

I laugh, but it turns into a cough that makes my side ache. “Help me up,” I say, holding out my hand.

She takes it, her fingers lacing through mine. I let her help me to my feet, my arm draped over her shoulders for support. The pain is bad, but it’s manageable with her beside me.

“I love you,” I say, my voice rough.

“I love you too,” she says.

I duck down to press a searing kiss to her lips, and she meets me in kind. Her mouth parts and I moan, tongue swiping across her lower lip.

Then Vera pulls back with a laugh. “Later,” she promises. “First, let’s deal with Konstantin.”

Every step sends a fresh wave of agony through my side, but I force it down, burying it beneath the cold fire of my determination. I will not be seen as broken. I will not be seen as vulnerable.

Vera walks beside me. She’s dressed for battle today, in a dark suit that hugs her curves. She looks every bit the Volkonsky wife, every bit the leader she’s becoming.

Lev walks on my other side, his hand resting near his jacket. He’s been with me through everything.

“You ready for this?” Lev asks, his voice low.

I nod, my jaw tight. “Bring it on.”

Vera’s hand finds mine, her fingers lacing through mine. We walk in, and every head turns to face us. The elders are already seated, their expressions ranging from curiosity to outright hostility.

I take a seat at the head of the table, Vera beside me. Lev stands behind me and doesn’t utter a word.

Konstantin sits at the opposite end, his face carefully composed. Except I see the flicker of triumph in his eyes, the smug satisfaction of a predator who believes his prey is cornered.

“Roman,” he says, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “I’m so glad you could join us. Though I must say, you look... unwell.”

“I’m fine,” I say, my voice flat. “Thank you for your concern.”

“Of course.” His smile thins. “Family is everything. You know that.”

Family is everything. The phrase that built me. For most of my life it was a skeleton key, opening every locked door in this house—every cruelty filed neatly behind three warm words. He offers them now like a gift. He’s forgotten I know exactly what they cost.

Before I can respond, Vera stands. The room falls silent.