Page 109 of Dangerous Beginnings

I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest as I approach him, my voice trembling slightly as I call out.

“Aslanov…”

He doesn’t respond. I step closer, trying to keep my voice steady, though the fear inside me is growing.

“Aslanov, please…” I say gently, my steps slow as I try to calm him. “You’re scaring me. You’ve worried me. Where have you been?”

I try to get closer, to reach him, but he doesn’t move. His eyes stay fixed on the churning water below, distant, lost in whatever thoughts are consuming him.

“Aslanov,” I say again, softer this time, as I close the gap between us. “Please, step away from the edge. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m here. I’m worried about you.”

He still doesn’t speak, his body unmoving, as if he hasn’t heard me at all. The distance between us feels unbearable, and the cold wind stings my face as I take another step closer.

His face is turned slightly toward me now, and in the dim light, I see the subtle shift—a tear, icy on his face, gliding slowly down his cheek. It’s like the ocean’s stormy waves are mirrored in his expression. The hard exterior he so often shows is cracked, just for a moment, revealing something deeper.

The sea roars beneath us, but all I can hear is the thunder of my own heart.

I take another slow step, my heart racing as I draw closer to him. The icy wind nips at my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the cold knot in my chest. I’m scared. Terrified that if I don’t move fast enough, if I don’t say the right words, he might take that final step forward and disappear into the abyss below.

“Aslanov,” I say softly, my voice breaking through the wind as I inch closer. “Please, step away from the edge. I’m here. I need you. We can figure this out together, but you have to come back to me.”

He remains still, his shoulders tense, but then, just when I feel like I can’t bear the silence any longer, he breaks it.

“I would never do it,” he says, his voice low and strained, almost a whisper against the roar of the sea. “I can’t. Not because I don’t want to…but because I need to shield you.”

The words hang in the air between us, heavy and broken. I blink, the sting of tears welling in my eyes.

“You’re not deserving of everything that happened,” he continues, his voice quieter now, as if the weight of the admission is crushing him. “I’m not worthy of your care, your love. I’m not deserving of it.”

The air feels suddenly thick, suffocating, and the gravity of his words presses down on me like a weight I can’t escape. He is breaking, cracking into a million pieces in front of me.

His head lowers, and I see the flicker of pain in his eyes, the same eyes that have always held a certain darkness. But in this moment, they’re full of something else—guilt, regret, something deep and raw. Something he has never openly shared before.

I take another step closer, reaching out slowly, as if the slightest wrong move might shatter whatever fragile thread holds him to this world.

“Don’t say that,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

He turns his head slightly, but his eyes are distant, filled with something darker than the night around us. His voice cracks, barely a whisper against the violent sound of the waves below.

“I’m scared,” he says, the words heavy with pain. “I can’t lose you, Isabella. I can’t lose something I care about again. Ican’t—not after everything. I’ve already lost too much. I can’t bear it again.”

His voice shakes as he speaks, raw and vulnerable, something I’ve never heard from him before. The weight of his words hits me like a punch to the gut, and I feel my heart ache in response. He’s trembling, not just from the cold, but from the weight of his fear. The fear of losing control over everything he’s built, everything that’s kept him going. The cruelty is slipping, the hardened man is fading.

He clenches his jaw, trying to hold it together, but I see the cracks beneath his steely exterior. “Everything’s falling apart,” he mutters, his eyes shifting to the darkness ahead. “I can feel it slipping away. My empire…my control…it’s all unraveling. I’m losing everything. And I can’t stop it.”

I knew it, something bad is happening.

His shoulders tense, the strain of it all obvious in the way he stands, like the burden is too much to bear. His empire—his life—feels like it’s crumbling around him, and I can see it in his eyes. It’s too much. Too many things slipping through his fingers.

Suddenly, he takes a step back from the edge, as if the weight of the void below is too much to face alone. I don’t hesitate. I move toward him quickly, closing the distance between us, and in one fluid motion, I wrap my arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace.

His body stiffens for a moment, as though unsure of the contact, but then he gives in, his arms enveloping me in return, holding me close as if I’m the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely. He holds me tighter, his grip desperate, as if my presence alone will anchor him, keep him from shattering.

The cold air bites at our skin, but the warmth between us is undeniable. His breath hitches in his chest, ragged and shaky, and I can feel his vulnerability pour into me like an overwhelming force. He’s not the man he’s always tried to be—the man who controls everything. Right now, he’s just a boy,broken and in need of someone to hold him together.

We break apart, our bodies still close.

My hands reach for his, trembling slightly as I take them in mine. His knuckles are rough and scarred, his grip tense at first, but I hold them anyway, cradling them like they’re something fragile. His breath hitches—barely audible—but I hear it. I feel it.

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