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“I-I am sorry,” she sobs, clutching her belly as if to protect the secret inside.
Sorry.
I’ve heard that word many times. From the spineless fuckers who betrayed the Ivankov Bratva, who caused the death of my father, who stole my freedom.
Sorry.
It doesn’t mean anything.
I breathe in, then breathe out. Slowly. My mind races. I’m processing. Contemplating. Should I kill her? She betrayed me, and in my world, that’s a death sentence.
Sorry.
It doesn’t change the fact she lied to me.
Sorry.
It doesn’t bring back the trust I thought we had.
I’m quiet at first, the words not processing. Then, with a jolt, I stand up, knocking the chair over. I start to pace, then stop and sit down again, only to leap back up. The truth, the damn truth, is like a punch to the gut. Sophia watches me, tears in her eyes, her body trembling in fear.
“Luka, please,” she whispers. “I had no choice. He threatened to kill them.”
“Choice?” I snap, my voice dripping with venom. “You chose to lie. You chose to betray me.”
“I had to,” she cries, desperation in her voice. “I had to protect them. I had to do what he wanted. Or he’d kill Nilo and Wren. Please, you have to understand.”
Understand?
The warning Dimitri gave me echoes in my mind, haunting me. He knew. He saw this coming. And now it’s here, crashing down on me.
Fuck. No one betrays Luka Ivankov.
I look at Sophia, really look at her.
The fear in her eyes, the despair. She’s not lying now.
This is the truth, and it’s ugly and painful. But it’s real.
Slowly, I walk over to her, my heart pounding in my chest. I sit beside her, my hand reaching out to touch her cheek. She flinches, but I don’t pull away.
“You should have told me,” I say softly, my voice cracking. “You should have trusted me to help you.”
“I was scared,” she whispers. “I was so scared, Luka.”
Sophia’s sobs grow louder, and I pull her closer, my embrace becoming more tense. It’s hard, almost desperate, a clash of emotions that I can’t put into words. My arms are like steel bands around her, and I can feel her heartbeat against my chest, as fast and frantic as my own.
Slowly, her body starts to relax, her sobs turn into whimpers, and I feel her melt into me. It’s as if she finally realizes that in all the chaos, in all the betrayal and hurt, this is what she needs.
She’s beautiful, even now, with her eyes red from crying, her body trembling. Blyat, she’s gorgeous, and I can’t help but appreciate that. A natural beauty, no frills, no artificial shit, just pure, unfiltered Sophia. My heart’s pounding, and I’ve got a feeling in the pit of my stomach that’s a strange mix of desire and anger.
Her eyes, wide and filled with tears, look up at me. “So, are you going to kill me now?” she asks.
“Kill you?” I bark out a laugh. I lean in so close that I can feel her breath on my skin. My voice is low, a growl, a promise, a damn possession. “Krasotka, from now on, you belong to me,” I say. Her eyes widen, and she swallows hard, but she doesn’t look away. She knows I mean it, every fucking word. “And I’ll kill anyone who dares to hurt you. That’s my promise to you,” I say, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead before moving down to her tear-streaked cheek.
“But why?” She whispers.
“Because despite this fucked-up world I'm in,” my voice breaks, “you've become my anchor, Sophia. “You’re the one thing I didn’t know I needed.”
