Page 61 of Ruthless Bratva King

He nods. “He got me out of there. Took me in. But I wasn’t the same after that. I was angry. At the world. At myself. Ihunted down every man I could find connected to Lombardi. Peter gave me all their names. I burned their homes to the ground. Their families were inside with them.”

His voice drops to a whisper. “Innocent people died because of me.”

I suck in a breath, my heart aching for him. The guilt, the rage, the endless cycle of violence—it’s all there, etched into his features, weighing on him like chains.

“That’s why I don’t get attached,” he says, his eyes finally meeting mine. “Those men loved. They had families. They died. They all died. I won’t let that happen to us.”

I reach for him, cradling his face in my hands. “You didn’t know, Dmitri. You were young. No one taught you any better. It wasn’t your fault.”

His expression crumbles, just for a moment, and he pulls me into his arms, holding me as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear. His lips press against my hair, and I feel the tremor in his breath.

For the first time, I see the boy who lost everything. A man who’s fought his whole life to survive. And I vow to myself that I’ll stand by him, no matter what.

For a moment, he doesn’t respond. He just sits there, rigid, as if he doesn’t know how to accept the comfort I’m offering. But then, slowly, his arms come around me, and he holds on.

The boy he was, the man he’s become—both are laid bare before me, and I realize with startling clarity that I’m not afraid. If anything, I’m angry.

Angry at his parents for abandoning him. Angry at the men who robbed him of so much. And beneath the anger, there’s something else: a fire I didn’t know I had. A fierce, protective loyalty that pulses through my veins.

I shift back slightly, cupping his face in my hands. His eyes are guarded, shadowed by everything he’s been through, but Idon’t look away. I meet his gaze head-on, letting him see the resolve burning inside me.

“I don’t care about your past,” I say, my voice steady. “I care about the future. What matters is the way you learn from the things you’ve done. You have a heart in there, even if you pretend you don’t. You protected me and Veronica. You didn’t have to but you did.”

For a moment, he looks at me like I’ve just done the impossible—like I’ve touched a part of him no one else ever has.

Then he pulls me into a kiss, his lips pressing against mine with a mix of passion and desperation. His arms tighten around me, holding me as if he’s terrified of letting go. I kiss him back just as fiercely, pouring everything I’m feeling into the connection between us.

When we finally pull apart, we’re both breathless, our foreheads resting together. He closes his eyes, his hands framing my face as he murmurs,

“You’re breaking through walls I was sure would never fall.”

I smile softly, brushing my thumb over his cheek. “You can’t change the past,” I say. “But you can change your future. As long as you have enough belief in yourself, right?”

45

DMITRI

Istep onto the balcony, the city spread out below me. Inside, Elena sleeps, her breaths soft and steady.

She looks so peaceful, her world untouched by the storm brewing inside me. I envy her innocence, especially as I’m the one who’s shattered it.

The phone buzzes in my hand. I’ve been waiting for this call. Peter’s voice crackles to life the moment I press it to my ear.

“Dmitri,” he says, sounding pissed. “I lost four men this evening. Sent them to help you. You hear anything?”

“Nothing,” I lie, wondering if he knew they were going to try and kill me. Did he order my death? Or were they trying to get rid of me before I become a threat to their boss?

“Where’s my statue?”

“In your hands soon enough.”

A tense silence stretches between us, broken only by the faint hum of the city. Then his voice returns, low and venomous. “Are you lying to me?”

My grip tightens on the phone. “No.”

“You better not be,” he snaps. “No more excuses, Dmitri.”

The line goes dead.

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