This was atrap.
It was planned. Orchestrated.
They were never going to let Nikolai face Mikhail alone.
But I didn’t know that. And now, Nikolai’s eyes are on me.
He lowers his gun, his expression unreadable as he takes a step toward me. The others are already moving, securing the scene, but I can’t look away from him.
“Nikolai…” My voice is barely a whisper, trembling with adrenaline and something deeper.
Relief crashes over me first, sharp and overwhelming, as though the air in my lungs finally unlocks after years of being held captive. Mikhail is dead, his shadow no longer looming over my family, no longer threatening Nikolai or me. But beneath the relief is something deeper—pride. Not the vain, boastful kind, but a quiet, resolute pride that I stepped into the fire when it mattered most. I acted with purpose, with intent, and I didn’t falter.
For the first time, I see myself clearly—not just as a Russo but as the woman I was always meant to be. I’m not hiding behind charity galas or living in fear of who I might become. I’m Sabina Russo, fierce and unyielding. I feel it now, fully, a profound clarity that brings both peace and power. And in this moment, I know—I am exactly who I need to be.
Nikolai closes the distance between us, his hands coming to cup my face.
His touch is firm but gentle, grounding me, and I realize I’m shaking.
“Sabina,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “What did you do?”
I open my mouth to answer, but the words catch in my throat. My mind spins, my heart races, but beneath it all, there’s a fierce clarity. I did what had to be done.
“I ended it,” I whisper finally, my voice steadying. “I endedhim. For Papa. For you.”
24
Nikolai
Sabina lowers her gun,her chest heaving, her face still fierce and unyielding, a goddess carved from fire and resolve. The echoes of the gunshots seem to linger in the air, but all I can hear is the erratic pounding of my heartbeat, deafening and relentless.
My father lies on the ground, his lifeless body a grotesque mockery of the man who once loomed so large, who tried to twist me into his reflection, to make me a monster. But it isn’t his death that consumes me now.
It’s her. Sabina.
She didn’t just save me by pulling the trigger—I could have ended Mikhail myself, and I would have. She saved me by standing there, fierce and fearless, and proving that she would risk everything, even her soul, to keep me alive. The weight of that knowledge crashes over me, leaving me raw and exposed in a way I’ve never felt before.
The world around us dissolves into a haze, and all I can see is her, the woman who choseme, not just in spite of the chaos that surrounds me, but because of it.
And right now, nothing else matters but her.
Her hands are trembling now, the adrenaline wearing off, leaving her exposed and raw. I move without thought, looping my arm around her shoulders. She’s shaking, her eyes glossy with the aftershocks of what she’s done, but there’s no fear in her gaze. Only strength. Only resolve.
I pull her into my arms, holding her tightly, my hand cradling the back of her head as her body melts against mine. She’s warm, solid, alive. I feel her breath hitch against my chest, her hands clutching at my jacket like I’m the only thing tethering her to this world. But it’s the other way around—I’m the one tethered to her.
In this moment, I understand. For the first time in my life, Itrulyunderstand what love is. It’s not possession or control. It’s not power or dominance. It’s this. This ache in my chest, this desperation to shield her from everything, even herself, if it comes to that. Love is wanting her to be free but knowing I’ll never survive letting her go.
It’s knowing that, without her, I am nothing but the shadow Mikhail made me believe I was.
“Sabina,” a voice cuts through the haze, pulling us both back to the harsh reality we’re standing in.
I look up to see Leo, his expression taut with equal parts fury and concern. He takes one look at Sabina in my arms, her gun still dangling loosely in her hand, and his jaw tightens.
Behind him, Luca, Damian, and Cassio stand like sentinels, their gazes flickering between the body on the floor and their sister.
Leo steps forward, his tone sharp but steady. “You okay?”
Whatever else he wants to say, that’s the question he asks. My respect for him only increases.