Page 85 of Savage Reign

I open my mouth to say, “Yes, of course,” but the words catch in my throat. Have I ever truly thought about what makes me happy? As much as I enjoyed choreographing and performing that solo for graduation, was it my true passion or just a way to escape Moscow, the Syndicate, and my past?

Niko stays silent, letting me sort through my thoughts before I speak.

“I don’t know if that’s what I want,” I admit finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Dancing lets me lose myself, and I need that. I don’t care about the spotlight—it was never about that. I think it was about proving that I’m worthy of something special after feeling unworthy for so long.”

His hand gently cups my cheek. “You’re not worthless. You’re extraordinary, Sofiya. Talented, kind, and strong as hell. You’ve been worthy all along, moya sladost. It’s the world that wasn’t worthy of you.”

My stomach flips. No one has ever said anything like that to me before, and I don’t know if I believe it. But the conviction in his voice is undeniable. “You’re giving me too much credit. I’m stubborn, but that doesn’t make me special.”

“Yes, you fucking are. And I’ll prove it to you.”

“Oh?”

“I have something for you. A gift.”

I grin. “What kind of gift?”

“I bought you a dance school.”

My eyes widen. Did I hear him correctly? “You did what now?”

He smiles, the lines around his eyes softening. “I saw how you lit up when you talked about the dance school you had me donate to. So, I thought, what’s better than donating to one? Buying you your own school.”

My eyebrows shoot up. Is he seriously gifting me a freaking school like it’s nothing? “I don’t get it, what’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch. A local dance school was struggling, about to shut down, so I bought it. Now it’s yours to do whatever you like with. I’ll fund it entirely. You can make it free, pick the staff and students yourself—all that’s up to you.”

My throat tightens. I can’t believe he’d do something like this for me. It’s overwhelming in the best way, but I’m not sure how to process it.

He must sense that, because his warm palm settles on my thigh. “Whatever your vision is, we’ll make it happen.”

Vision? I bite my lip, doubt gnawing at me. “I’m a dancer. I don’t know the first thing about running a school.”

He snags a blueberry off the platter, popping it in his mouth. “What did you admire about the school you had me donate to? You can model it after that or consider what you’d like to do differently. You’ll figure it out, moya sladost.” His lips graze mine, sending butterflies through my stomach. “You’re meant for this. I know you’ll be incredible because you’re passionate about dance and care about this cause.”

If I’m honest, the idea of building a school, of creating a space where dancers can thrive, is exciting. But starting something this big feels impossible when I don’t even know what my future holds.

I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to look at him as I say the one thing we both know is true. “What happens with the school when this ends?”

By this, I mean us and the insulated world we’re living in.

His hand ghosts over my cheek, forcing me to look at him. His blue gaze is unwavering. “It’s yours no matter what. It’s in your name, and I’ve already set up a trust to fund it. Even if you never want to see me again, it belongs to you.”

I shake my head. Thinking about our end sends a dull ache through me. One way or another, I’ll have to choose a side—Niko or the Syndicate. No matter which side I choose, or which side wins, it will leave me broken.

“Hey, what’s with that face?” he asks, cupping my jaw.

My hand slides up his chest, tracing the hard lines of muscle and the ink etched into his skin before resting above the steady thrum of his heart. I swallow hard to find my courage.

“What if you made peace with the Syndicate? We can go to Roman together and negotiate a truce. He’ll understand it if I tell him things have chan?—”

Niko shakes his head before I can get the rest of my words out. “This is not a situation where I can just apologize, and we can be friends again. I made a mortal enemy out of them.” He shrugs, lightly. “I’m pretty sure Roman would shoot me the first chance he got, no matter what you say.”

A knot tightens in my throat. He’s probably right, but I'd never forgive myself if I didn’t do everything possible to protect the people I care about, including him. “But if I can put in a good word…”

“Hey,” he says, rubbing my arm. “Don’t think about all of that right now. I’ll figure out something, I always do.”

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