Page 67 of Dark Promise

She pulls back from me slightly, and I feel the absence of her warmth like a physical pain. Her voice is quiet but steady when she answers, “I’m fine.”

Leo’s gaze shifts to me, his expression hard. He doesn’t need to say the words—I know what he’s thinking.This is your fault.And he’s not wrong. But I’ll carry that burden a thousand times over if it means keeping her safe.

“You did what had to be done,” Leo says after a pause, his tone softening as he looks back at Sabina. “Papa would’ve been proud.”

The words hit her like a blow, and I see her inhale sharply, the mention of her father breaking through the hardened mask she’s wearing. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, and I feel my chest tighten as if her pain is my own.

“You’re safe now,” Leo continues, his voice low and deliberate.

Sabina doesn’t respond, but I see the faintest flicker of relief cross her face. She glances at the lifeless body of Mikhail, then back at Leo. There’s something unspoken between them—a shared acknowledgment of what’s just happened and what it means.

But it’s not enough for me. I need to take her away from this place, from the stench of death, from the echoes of what she’s just done.

Luca joins us, his gaze taking in my arm around Sabina. He glances at Leo and asks, “The thunderbolt?”

“Looks like it,” Leo says, his tone sardonic.

I have no idea what they’re talking about, and in this moment, I’m not interested in asking.

Leo steps closer, his gaze pinning me. “Take care of her,” he says, his voice a warning and a command all at once. “We’ll clean this up.”

“I always do,” I reply, my voice like steel, my arms tightening protectively around Sabina.I always will.

Leo’s jaw flexes, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he and Luca join Damian and the others as they begin to handle the grim aftermath.

Cassio’s gaze lingers on Sabina with a mix of respect and something close to awe.

“You’re a Russo through and through, kid,” he says, his voice gruff but sincere. “Papa would’ve been damn proud.”

Sabina’s lips part, but no words come out. Instead, she nods, a single, resolute motion that speaks volumes. And then, sensing her breaking point, I turn her away from the scene and guide her toward my car.

The silence is deafening as we walk, the weight of what’s just happened pressing down on us like a heavy cloak. I open the car door for her, and she slides inside without a word, her movements stiff and mechanical. When I settle into the driver’s seat, I glance over at her. She’s staring straight ahead, her hands folded tightly in her lap, her knuckles white.

I start the car, the engine’s hum filling the void, and we pull out of the garage. The city lights blur past us, a kaleidoscope of color that feels jarring against the darkness clinging to us. I want to say something, anything, to ease the tension, but the words won’t come. All I can do is reach over and take her hand in mine.

Her fingers are cold, trembling slightly, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she squeezes my hand, her grip fierce, almost desperate. It’s the only sign she’s still here with me, still fighting to process everything she’s just done.

“Nikolai…” she begins, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Not yet,” I say softly, cutting her off. “You don’t have to talk now. Just breathe.”

Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see all the emotions swirling within her—relief, pride, grief, fear. She nods again, her grip on my hand tightening as if I’m the only thing anchoring her to reality.

The drive feels endless, the silence between us heavy but not uncomfortable. It’s a shared silence, one that speaks of understanding without words. When I finally pull into the circular drive of my penthouse building, I step out and open her door, guiding her inside with a gentle hand on the small of her back.

Once we’re alone in the elevator, I turn to her, unable to hold back any longer. “Sabina,” I murmur, my voice rough with emotion. “What you did…”

“I know,” she interrupts, her gaze meeting mine. “I know what I did.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You don’t understand. You saved me, Sabina. Not just from him—from myself. From the man he tried to make me into.”

Her eyes widen slightly, and I see the faintest flicker of vulnerability in her expression. “I… I just did what needed to be done.”

I cup her face, my thumb brushing over her cheek, wiping away a tear. “That’s what makes you incredible,” I whisper. “You see what needs to be done, and you do it. You’re fearless. You’re strong. And you’re mine.”

Her breath catches, and for a moment, I think she’s going to pull away. But instead, she leans into me, her forehead resting against mine. “And you’re mine,” she whispers back, her voice trembling but sure.

In this moment, I finally understand what I’ve felt for her all along. It’s not just desire, not just obsession. It’s love. The kind of love I’ve never believed in, never thought myself capable of. But here she is, proving me wrong with every breath she takes.

---