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Oksana is sitting on a bench near the front doors, her hands folded in her lap, her blonde hair falling around her face. She looks small and fragile and exhausted, but the second she sees me, she's on her feet.

"Cormac—"

I pull her into my arms, burying my face in her hair. She's shaking, her hands clutching at my shirt, and I hold her as tightly as I can without hurting her or the baby. "It's over," I murmur into her hair. "It's over, a chumann. We're free."

She pulls back, her blue eyes wide and disbelieving. "How? What happened?"

"Rian," I say, my voice rough. "Rian made a deal. He confessed to everything, said he was running the illegal operations and that the rest of us weren't involved. He's taking the fall."

Her face crumples, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "Oh God. Cormac, he can't⁠—"

"He already did," I say quietly. "It's done."

She sobs, pressing her face into my chest, and I hold her while she cries. I don't know what else to do. I don't know how to make this better, how to take away the guilt and the grief and the overwhelming weight of what Rian just did for us. All I can do is hold her while she cries, and tears run down my own cheeks.

We're free. But I have no idea how we move forward from this… how I can ever be happy when my life is now contingent on everything my friend has lost.

—

Three days later, I'm standing on the front steps of the Svenkov mansion.

The last few days have been a blur. Oksana went back to her family's house, and I went back to mine. We've been in contact, but we haven't seen each other. I needed time to think and to process everything that happened. To figure out what the fuck I'm supposed to do now. And Oksana needed time with her family.

Rian's in a federal detention facility, awaiting sentencing. Declan called me the morning after I was released, his voice tight with fury, demanding to know what the hell happened. I told him everything. He didn't say much after that, but I could feel his anger radiating over the phone. Lachlan called too, and so did a few of the other men. Everyone's trying to figure out how to move forward, how to keep the organization running without Rian, how to make sure his sacrifice wasn't for nothing. I'm still Declan's head enforcer for now, but things are tense and strange. At the end of the day, I let Oksana in. And now Rian will go to prison for it.

But the one thing I know for certain, after the last few days, is that I can't move forward without Oksana. I told Rian that, and it was the truth. And no matter how guilty I might feel about the path that led us here, I can't see any road forward without the woman I love—my wife, and the mother of my child.

I ring the bell and wait. A few moments later, the door opens, and Oksana's father is standing there. Maksim Svenkov looks older than he did the last time I saw him, the lines around his eyes deeper, his expression guarded. "Cormac," he says, his accent thick.

"Maksim." I meet his gaze. "I need to see Oksana."

He studies me for a long moment, and I can see the conflict in his face. But finally, he steps aside. "She's upstairs. In her room."

"Thank you." I step inside, and he closes the door behind me. The house is quiet as I climb the stairs, my boots echoing on the polished wood, and I stop in front of her door.

I knock softly. "Oksana?"

There's a pause, and then I hear her voice, muffled and uncertain. "Come in."

I open the door and step inside. She's sitting on the edge of her bed, wearing a soft gray sweater and leggings, her blonde hair pulled back in a loose braid. She looks up at me, and the expression on her face is so tired and sad that it makes my chest ache. "Cormac," she whispers.

I close the door behind me and cross the room, sinking down onto the bed beside her. For a moment, neither of us speaks. We just sit there, side by side, until Oksana finally breaks the silence first.

"I don't know if we can do this," she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know if we can be happy together after everything that's happened. After what I did to you."

I turn to look at her, and I see the fear and guilt in her eyes. I know how she feels. I've had the same fears, and I carry the same guilt… or something very similar. "You didn't do anything to me," I say quietly. "You were trying to protect your family. You were trying to survive. I understand that now."

"But I hurt you," she says, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I lied to you. I betrayed you. How can you forgive that?"

"Because I love you," I say simply. "And because I know that everything you felt for me was real. Wasn't it?"

She nods, her hands trembling as she reaches for mine. "It was real, Cormac. All of it. I fell in love with you, and that was never a lie. I swear to you, it was never a lie."

I lift her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Then that's all that matters."

"But you're so much older than me," she says, her voice breaking. "And I'm so young, and I don't know if I'm ready for a husband and a family and all of this—what if I fuck it up again? What if I⁠—"

"Oksana." I cup her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. "Do you want this? Do you want me? Not because you're pregnant, not because you feel like you have to, but because you actually want a life with me?"