Page 176 of Ivory Ashes

“Mikhail?” she rasps.

Her excitement isn’t as genuine as Dante’s. For good reason: she doesn’t trust me the way she once did.

That goes both ways.

“My father is gone and Pyotr is dead,” I inform her. “Dante is in the hallway.”

She blinks, processing it all in a second. Less than.

“Anatoly?” she whispers like saying his name out loud might jinx it.

The only good decision my father ever made was choosing Viviana as a bride for his son, I think. She’s tough enough for the title, that’s for sure. She looks like she could collapse at any second, but she’s staying on her feet and assessing the situation.

She’s a warrior at heart.

“Alive. He’s the reason I found?—”

“Thank God,” she sobs.

Then she hurls herself at me, but I’m just out of reach. The chains jerk at her wrists and ankles. She’s frozen in front of me, arms extended. If the chains weren’t there, I’m positive she’d be face-down on the floor right now. Her face is crumpled with exhaustion and relief and fear and a million other emotions I can’t even begin to name.

Even though I know I shouldn’t, I step forward and close the gap between us.

She falls against my body with a sigh. She smells like damp and dirt, but under it all is the sweetness I’m used to. The vanilla honey scent that I’d have to burn my mansion down to get rid of.

“Mikhail…” Viviana sobs my name like she’s still trying to convince herself that I’m real. She holds me tighter, burying her face in my neck.

I let her hug me. I let her soak the sleeve of my shirt with tears as I pat her back. I can feel her heart thumping in her chest and I count each beat.

She’s alive. Feeling the proof eases some clenched part of me.

“Mama?” Dante peeks his head into the cell and Viviana cries harder.

She reaches for Dante, but doesn’t let me go. She pulls me into the hug until we’re all huddled on the floor.

This is for Dante, I tell myself. I’m doing all of this for Dante.

When they’re ready, I break apart the chains and lead them both out of the bunker and straight into the backseat of the car Raoul is driving.

Within minutes, Dante curls into his mom’s side and falls asleep. Viviana’s cold fingers have been folded in mine since we were still navigating the hallways of the bunker.

“This isn’t how I thought today would end,” she whispers, looking up at me. When I frown, she squeezes my hand like that’s explanation enough.

Nothing with Viviana has gone the way I thought it would. Since the moment I saw her at that engagement party, she has surprised me at every turn.

Which is exactly why she has to go.

“The day isn’t over,” I say coldly.

She stiffens next to me. “What does that mean? Aren’t we going home?”

“Dante and I are going home,” I explain. “But when we get back to the mansion, you’re going to leave.” She tries to pull her hand away, but I snatch her wrist. “Don’t wake up Dante and cause a scene. This will be easier if he stays asleep.”

Her eyes flick from our son to me and back again. She shakes her head. “You aren’t going to make me leave. You just saved me. Twice.”

“Anatoly wanted to save you.” It’s not a lie; it’s just not the entire truth.

I told Anatoly to save her, but admitting that doesn’t change what needs to happen.

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