Page 90 of Savage Reign

He doesn’t even blink, just nods and gets to work.

Sofiya places a hand on my arm, raising her brows. “What are you doing? We can’t possibly eat all of that.”

“You said you didn’t like to share.” I shrug. “I’m not risking you hogging all the good flavors.”

She grins, unapologetic. “You are a madman.”

We’re sitting at a small table tucked against the side of the stone building, the remnants of what must’ve been ten scoops of ice cream between us. Sofiya leans back in her chair, licking the last bit of pistachio off her spoon with a satisfied sigh.

“I can’t believe we ate all of that.” Her tone is somewhere between impressed and horrified.

“We?” I arch a brow. “I had two bites.”

“Liar,” she shoots back, narrowing her eyes. “You were practically hoarding the pistachio.”

“Because it was damn good,” I tease. “I’m a believer.”

She scoffs, a spark of laughter in her eyes. “Next time, I’m ordering. You’ve lost that privilege.”

Will there even be a next time for us? The question claws at my chest—I know there won’t be unless I make a change. The truth is, I’m done pushing away what I want. And what I want is Sofiya—not just for now, but forever.

Fuck. The realization sears through me like fire.

But keeping her means making peace with the Syndicate. She’s already told me she won’t choose between me and them. I need to make that choice for her before it’s not a choice at all. Because a war always leaves losers.

“I have to tell you something.” Her head tilts with curiosity, and I force my next words out even though she might not like them.

“After I sent Roman the pictures of you in the basement, he accepted my deal. Agreed to all my terms, but I turned him down.”

Her brows shoot up, her expression blank, like I’ve spoken a foreign language. “Why? Wasn’t that the point of taking me?”

“Because it meant sending you back, granting you a divorce, and never seeing you again.” I let out a breath and tuck her hair behind her ear.

“I couldn’t do it.”

Her lips tremble, her eyes searching mine. “You’re serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

She rises to her feet, her chair scraping against the ground, and launches herself into my arms, burying her face in my neck. “I stand by my words when I called you crazy earlier.”

I brush a hand over my neck. “You’re not mad?”

“I’m not mad. Maybe I should be, but it means you choose me. Even though it’s costing you the casino deal. But…” Her brows knit together. “I can’t be yours until there’s peace.”

“I know. I haven’t forgotten.”

I’ve been turning this over in my head for days, and there’s only one way forward. If I’m going to prove to the Syndicate that I’m serious about making things right—and about being the husband Sofiya deserves—I have to walk away from the casino deal. Actions speak louder than words. I’ll do everything I can, and then pray they don’t decide to kill me anyway.

She scowls. “How do you know I want to stay with you? Were you going to ask me?”

I grab her wrist, tugging her forward. My voice drops to a low rumble. “No, my sweetness, I’m not going to ask. I think you know I’m a man who takes what I want.”

I’m unsure if she’s going to slap me or kiss me when she surges forward, her hands sliding around my neck. “Right answer, mudak.”

She crushes her lips to mine. The kiss is hot and consuming, the kind that makes everything else fade away. When she finally pulls back, she’s flushed and breathless.

“You make me a very happy man, moya sladost.” I nuzzle her neck, inhaling her skin.

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