Page 177 of Ivory Ashes

“He wouldn’t have helped me escape without your permission,” she protests. “You don’t want me to die, Mikhail.”

“I may not want you to die, but that doesn’t mean I want you,” I lie through my teeth, every word ripping out of me in burning agony. “I thought being with you would keep Dante safe. Now, I’m in a war with the Greeks and the truth is… you’re not worth it.”

The blow lands exactly like I thought it would. She gasps and a tear slips down her cheek. “You expect me to leave and let you take my son from me?”

“I’m keeping Dante whether you make a scene or not. You aren’t letting me do anything. Your only choice here is deciding what Dante’s last memory of you should be. Do you want it to be cuddling in the backseat of this car, or screaming and crying as you’re dragged off my property?”

Raoul would hate to drag Viviana away, but he’d do it if I asked.

She stares at me in disbelief as tears flow silently down her cheeks. I didn’t know it was possible for someone to look so beautiful while they cry.

She looks broken. Shattered. The fire I’ve always seen in her eyes dims. “You aren’t going to change your mind.”

It’s not a question, but I explain myself anyway. I say the one thing I know she can’t disagree with.

“Ending this war with the Greeks is how I can keep Dante safe.”

People in my own Bratva are pushing back against me. I won’t fight on two fronts. Not when it could put Dante at risk. I’m going to do everything I can to keep him safe.

“So you’re going to marry her?” she asks softly. “Helen?”

“That doesn’t concern you.”

“As long as I have this ring on my finger, it concerns me.”

I hold out my open palm. “Then give the ring back. You hate that fucking monstrosity anyway.”

She jerks her hand away. “I made a vow. Until death does us part, this ring is staying on my finger.”

A couple days ago, I would have loved hearing that. I would’ve taken her home and showed her exactly how much I loved hearing it, several times over.

Now, it’s too late.

I slide my matching ring off. Viviana’s name is indented in my skin thanks to her smart ass addition on the inside of the band. I toss the ring into her lap. “Then take mine. I don’t need it anymore.”

Her chin dimples, but otherwise, she tries not to react. Slowly, she pockets the ring and then wraps her arms around Dante.

The rest of the drive is silent as she softly cries into his hair, kissing his temple as he sleeps. She holds him like it’s the last time. Because it is.

I wait for her to change her mind and rail and scream against my decision, but when I carefully pluck Dante from the car and hand him to Raoul, Viviana doesn’t say a word.

She doesn’t speak again until Raoul and Dante disappear inside the mansion.

“You promised me that you’d let him be a little boy first and an heir second.” She sniffles, her breath hitching with stifled sobs. “If there’s any vow you keep, please make it that one.”

“I don’t owe you anything, Viviana.”

“But you owe him,” she spits. “You owe your son a real father since he won’t have—since I won’t be?—”

Since he won’t have a mother.

Since she won’t be with him.

“I promise,” I growl, cutting her off. She has cried more than enough tonight. I can’t take any more. None of it changes what I need to do. “I’ll remember.”

Viviana holds my gaze. Seconds skew and twist until I’m not sure how long we’ve been standing here.

I’m still waiting for her to argue that she should stay. Part of me wants her to. Maybe she’ll make a good point and change my mind.

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