Page 178 of Ivory Ashes

She doesn’t. And I can’t waste any more of my time or energy on her. It’s what got us into this mess in the first place.

“There’s a car waiting for you.” I gesture towards the garage. “Pyotr’s car, actually. It’s the one Anatoly was supposed to take you in tonight. The car is yours to keep.”

“Am I supposed to thank you?”

I ignore her. “You can go wherever you want. But I suggest you go far.”

“This isn’t about what I want,” she mutters. Then she clears her throat. “I don’t have any money. I didn’t have much savings before and I haven’t been to work in weeks.”

“There’s money in the car. Enough for you to get started. Plus the rings.”

She frowns. “What about the rings?”

“Pawn them. They’re fucking hideous, but they’re expensive.”

“Yeah. I guess so.” She nervously works the gaudy ring around her finger with her thumb. “You know, for a second there, I thought we were going to make it work.”

“Make what work?”

Pain flickers across her face. She shrugs. “You. Me. Us. For a second, it seemed like we might be happy.”

“This was never about being happy.”

It still isn’t.

Because if it was…

I shake my head. “This is a business deal. It’s about what benefits me.”

“And I don’t benefit you anymore?” she asks softly.

The problem is that I don’t benefit you, Viviana. Being close to me is a promise of death. I’m saving you by sending you away. You’ll hate me for it, but it’s the only thing I can do to keep you safe.

“No,” I say simply. “You don’t.”

She swipes at her cheek, brushing away a tear I can’t see. “Well, I guess I should leave while I still can.”

It’s what I told her the night we spent in that bridal suite. Only, back then, I actually wanted her to leave. I wanted her to get out before Trofim or her father dragged her back.

Now, she needs to leave while I have the strength to let her. Otherwise, I’ll drag her back inside the mansion and bar the doors.

“Goodbye, Viviana,” I say as I’m already turning towards the house. I need to walk away and end things here. Keep it short and sweet. But I can’t stop myself from adding, “Take care of yourself.”

She releases a shuddering breath. “Goodbye, Mikhail.”

I don’t watch her get in the car or pull down the drive. I can’t. Even when I hear the security system chime, alerting me to the gates being opened, it takes all I have to sit in my office and not tear down the driveway after her.

I have to do what’s right for the Bratva and what’s right for Dante.

After six years and a lifetime of chaos, Viviana Giordano is finally gone for good.

66

VIVIANA

Iakov Novikov is chasing me.

It’s what I tell myself again and again as I drive away from my son in Pyotr’s car.

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