Page 88 of Inked Athena

“How?”

“Because...” The words stick in my throat. Around us, London flows by in its endless parade of tourists and businessmen. None of them know that two killers sit discussing marriage like it’s a tactical decision. “Because making her my wife tells everyone exactly how to hurt me.”

“And you think they don’t already know?” Myles snorts. “You really think Ilya doesn’t see how you look at her? How you’d burn the world down to keep her safe?”

“I’d burn it down anyway.”

“Exactly. So what’s the real reason?”

I clench my fists, fighting the urge to check my phone again. To see what Nova sent. To make sure she’s safe.

“You know what happened to my mother.”

“Nova isn’t your mother.”

“No. She’s stronger. Better.” My laugh comes out bitter. “Which makes it worse.”

“Then why are you treating her like she’s made of glass?” asks Myles.

“Because the stronger they are, the harder they break.” I lean forward, remembering the videos my father made me watch. The way my mother’s hands shook as she signed away her rights. “Nova thinks she can handle this life. But one day, she’ll wake up and realize what being a Litvinov really means.”

“And what’s that?”

“Blood.” My voice drops low enough that only Myles can hear. “Always blood. There’s no escape.”

“So you’d rather keep her in limbo? Not quite yours, not quite free?”

A sleek black Mercedes crawls past. I catalog the plate, the driver, the tinted windows.

“I’d rather keep her alive.”

“Bullshit.” Myles’s hand clamps on my shoulder. “You’re not protecting her. You’re protecting yourself.”

“Careful.”

“No, you need to hear this. You’re so fucking scared of her leaving that you won’t give her a real reason to stay.”

My phone buzzes again. This time, I check it.

NOVA:The baby just kicked. Wish you were here to feel it.

Something in my chest cracks. I thumb the ring box in my pocket—platinum and diamonds, custom-made weeks ago. I’ve told no one.

“She deserves better than me,” I mutter.

“Probably.” Myles stands, stretching. “But she chose you anyway. The question is, are you man enough to choose her back?”

I rise, my decision already made. It was made the moment I saw her in that park, covered in dog slobber and sass.

“Race you back?” I ask, already moving.

“You’re changing the subject.”

I am. Because I can’t tell him about the ring. Can’t admit that I’ve been carrying it for weeks, waiting for the right moment.

Waiting to be worthy of her.

“Come on, old man.” I pick up the pace as Myles scrambles to catch up. “Unless you’re scared?”

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