Page 151 of Ivory Oath

You should never give an ultimatum you’re not ready to suffer the consequences of. I know that. But I never really thought Mikhail would walk away.

Even when he locked me in this room and I slid to the floor, too weak to stand, I didn’t really believe it.

In my mind, there is no future where Mikhail and I aren’t together. I’m not sure what a life without him even looks like now. I can’t go back to lonely apartments and fake names. But I have no idea what else there is.

I’m staring into the dark of my bedroom, contemplating what lies ahead for me and my children, when the knob above my head twists.

I don’t have time to think about who it is or what they want with me. I only have time to crawl just clear of the door before it swings open so hard it bounces off the wall.

I’m on my back, staring up at the looming silhouette of…

“Mikhail?”

He came back for me, I think before I can stop myself. He changed his mind.

I bury the thought deep down. I survived him walking away from me once—if sitting on the floor in a dissociative state can be considered “surviving.” I don’t know if I can do it again.

Mikhail is squinting into the room, scanning far above my head like he’s looking for me. But at the sound of my voice, his eyes snap down to where I’m huddled on the floor.

He sinks to his knees in front of me. He smells like cold air and frost. His fingers are freezing when he curls them around my face, tilting my chin. “Are you okay?”

“I’m—” My mouth hangs open uselessly. What am I? After everything that has happened today, I’m hollowed out. I’m exhausted and heartbroken and terrified of the future. I try to say something—anything—but the word lodges in my throat. A sob escapes instead.

Mikhail curses under his breath and picks me up. He cradles me in his arms, and I want to hate it. I want to hate him. It would make things a lot easier.

“Where are you taking me now?” I ask. “A cell?”

“I’m taking you to our room.” He carries me through the door. Just like he said, he walks down the hall towards his room. Our room. “I shouldn’t have locked you in there in the first place.”

His arms tighten around me and I commit every detail of it to memory. The solid wall of his chest. The way his arms flex around my body, effortlessly strong. The way his warm breath whispers against my cheek.

I don’t know how long any of this will be mine, and I don’t want to forget it. Because if Mikhail can’t give the Bratva up, I really will leave. I have to.

No matter how much I want to stay.

The room is dark and he doesn’t bother with a light. “You need to rest. That’s what Dr. Rossi said after your appointment.”

“Stop being so nice,” I whisper, even as I lean against his chest. “It only makes things harder. If you’re just going to leave?—”

“I’m not going anywhere.” There’s a hard edge to his voice, but I don’t think it’s directed at me.

He lowers me into our bed and starts to turn away. To grab the blankets, I think. Like I could possibly want to sleep right now. I grab his wrist and hold onto him like my life depends on it. Right now, it feels like it does.

“What does that mean, Mikhail?”

He turns his hand in mine until he’s cradling my fingers and brings them to his lips for a kiss. “It means I’m sorry, Viviana.”

My heart is pounding as I ask, “For what?”

“For walking away from you.” His blue eyes pierce through the darkness. The mask I’m used to is gone now. The Mikhail in front of me is the one I know—the one I fell in love with. “I’m sorry for hesitating for even one fucking second when the choice has always been clear.”

He kisses my knuckles again. Then his mouth moves to my wrist. My forearm. He tastes my skin like he’s starving, making his way to my neck. His stubble scrapes against my jaw and I tilt my head to give him better access.

“What are you saying?” I breathe.

I genuinely need him to explain himself because, with the way he’s touching me, my thoughts are fuzzy. This is the way it’s been since that very first night. My body comes alive when Mikhail is close to me, but my brain shuts down.

I gather my wits enough to grab his shoulders and push him back.

---