Page 21 of Inked Athena

“My father...” She swallows the rest, but I hear it anyway. The weight of his betrayal. The echo of his threats.

I could tell her it doesn’t matter. That distance changes things. But her father’s influence runs deeper than Chicago’s streets. His corruption has seeped into her bones, into the way she flinches at sudden movements and second-guesses her own worth.

“Tell me.” I brush my lips against her temple. Not a kiss—a shield.

The story spills out of her in broken pieces. How he’d force her to sit silently at family dinners while his cop buddies talked about “cleaning up” the streets, one broken femur at a time. How he made examples of people who crossed him. The way he’d holdher grandmother’s care over her head whenever she tried to break free.

“I thought I’d escaped.” Nova’s fingers twist deeper into my shirt. “But I was just pretending. Playing at having a real life while he watched and waited.”

That hits too close to home. My own father’s games. His tests and manipulations. The constant balance of power and punishment.

But this isn’t about my damage. This is about Nova.

I slide my palm along her spine, counting vertebrae, measuring the tremors that race beneath her skin. “Your father cannot touch you here.”

She exhales against my throat. “Because you’re more powerful than him?”

The question hangs between us, heavy with implications. Once, I would have answered with a smirk and a demonstration of exactly how much influence I wield. But Nova deserves better than another man’s power games.

“Because I’ll never use that power against you.”

Her head snaps up, amber eyes searching mine in the dim cabin light. “Those are pretty words, Sam. But you’ve already made decisions about my life without consulting me. Taking me from Chicago. Bringing me here.”

She has a point. Every protective instinct in me wants to argue, to explain how those choices kept her alive. Instead, I force myself to really hear her.

“You’re right.” The admission costs me nothing but pride, and her startled expression makes it worth it. “I’m used to giving orders and expecting them to be followed. It’s how I’ve survived. How I’ve kept others alive.”

“And now?”

“Now, I need to learn a different way.” I brush a strand of hair from her face, letting my fingers linger against her cheek. “With you.”

Nova doesn’t pull away from my touch, but she doesn’t lean into it, either. “What does that mean, exactly?”

“It means we make decisions together.” The words feel strange on my tongue. Not wrong, just new. “It means I tell you what I know, and you tell me what you need. We find solutions that work for both of us.”

“Even if I disagree with you?”

“Especially then.” I trail my hand down her arm, feeling goosebumps rise in my wake. “Your perspective... it challenges me. Makes me think beyond force and fear.”

She shivers, but her voice stays steady. “And what if I need space? Time to process things on my own?”

The question stabs at my deepest fears—of abandonment, of betrayal, of loss. But I make myself nod. “Then we find a way.”

Nova’s shoulders relax slightly, as if she’s testing the truth of my words. Testing me. “You’re asking me to put my life in your hands,” she says quietly. “I need the same from you.”

The old me would have laughed at the idea of giving anyone that kind of power. The old me would have kissed her silent andchanged the subject. But her steady gaze holds more strength than all my father’s threats ever did.

“Tell me what that looks like.” I keep my voice neutral, open. This is her moment to define terms.

“No more unilateral decisions about my safety. No more hiding information to ‘protect’ me.” She straightens in my arms, chin lifting. “And no more assumptions about what I can or can’t handle.”

My jaw clenches. “Some things in my world?—”

“Are brutal. Ugly. Dangerous.” She presses her palm against my chest, right over my heart. “I know what you are, Samuil. I’ve seen it. But I’m not asking you to change that. I’m asking you to trust me enough to let me choose how I deal with it.”

The request burrows under my skin. In my world, trust is a weapon. A weakness to exploit. But Nova isn’t asking for my secrets or my power. She’s asking for partnership.

“Okay.” I cover her hand with mine, pressing it harder against my chest. “But I need something from you, too.”

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