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I stepped back before my body made another decision for me and dragged an unsteady hand through my wet hair.

Her cardigan slipped farther down her arm. She pushed it back into place with an impatient movement.

“You’re everything I have left in the world, Demitri.”

The words struck the centre of my chest. I turned away from her.

“That’s not true.”

“It is.”

“You have people here now. Tone. Izzy. Samira. The rest of the family.”

“They’re your family.”

“They would protect you as one of their own.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

I faced her again. Adriana closed the distance between us and pressed one hand against my chest. My heart struck hard beneath her palm.

“You found me when I had nothing. I came through your door bleeding, and you opened it without knowing my name or what protecting me would cost.”

“Anyone would have done the same.”

“No, Demitri. Not everyone. But you did.”

Her fingers curved against my skin.

“Every room I’ve slept in since then, every road I crossed and every morning I lived long enough to see, you were there.”

“Adriana—”

“I saw Marcello’s blood on the kitchen wall,” her voice cracked. “Tonight, every time I close my eyes, I see you taking his place.”

I covered her hand with mine.

“I can’t be the only thing holding you together, Adriana.”

“I’m not asking you to carry me.”

“Then what are you asking, Adriana?”

Her eyes filled, but she refused to let the tears fall.

“I’m telling you that I love you.”

Silence surrounded us. My gaze dropped to her hand beneath mine.

Love.

I had heard the word whispered through confession screens and spoken before altars. I had used it in sermons as though I understood what it required.

In Adriana’s mouth, it sounded like a violent echo. A mercy. Something alive placed into the hands of a man who only knew how to weaponize things.

“You don’t have to say it back,” she rushed to add.

“That’s not the problem.”