Page 67 of Twisted Vows

“Max, I’m not made of glass,” I add, my voice firm but kind. “I knew what I was marrying into.”

His jaw tightens, and I can feel the storm brewing behind his calm exterior. “You didn’t sign up for this.”

I reach out, brushing my fingers over his hand where it rests on the console. His skin is warm, steady, but there’s a faint tremor beneath the surface.

“Yes, I did,” I say softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes flick to mine again, something unspoken passing between us. Then he exhales slowly, as if forcing himself to let go of some invisible weight.

The car slows as we approach the gates, the heavy iron creaking open. Armed guards step aside, their faces impassive as Maxsim pulls into the drive.

When he kills the engine, the silence feels heavier. For a moment, neither of us moves.

“We’ll stay here until I know the threat is contained,” he says finally, his voice brooking no argument.

“Do I have a choice?” I ask, arching a brow.

“No.”

He steps out of the car, circling around to open my door before I can protest. The cool night air brushes against my skin, carrying the faint scent of rain and earth. We walk in silence toward the house, his hand warm and steady against my lower back. But a few steps in, he stops abruptly, turning to face me. “Ari.”

Something in his voice makes my chest tighten. I glance up, and the look in his eyes nearly steals the breath from my lungs. He’s unguarded in a way I’ve only seen once or twice, and it shakes me.

“I need to say something,” he begins.

“That sounds serious,” I say, forcing a small smile to mask the flutter in my chest.

“It is.”

He exhales slowly, stepping closer. The gravel crunches beneath his boots, the sound loud in the quiet night.

“When I married you,” he says, his voice low, “I didn’t know if it would ever feel… real.”

I swallow hard, his words cutting deeper than I expect.

“But this marriage,” he continues, his gaze steady and unwavering, “it’s becoming more important than I ever imagined.”

The rawness in his voice is shocking. The man who once told me he wasn’t capable of love is laying pieces of himself bare.

I don’t know how to respond, so I settle for honesty. “If you mean that,” I say quietly, “then let me help you. Let me prove I’m a true partner.”

“You’ve already proven it,” he says, his voice almost too soft to hear.

For a moment, the weight of his words hangs between us.

“I can’t lose you,” he says finally, his voice rough.

“You won’t,” I reply, squeezing his hand. “But you have to let me in, Max.”

His grip tightens briefly, but then he lets go, stepping back. “Let’s go inside.”

Gianna greets us in the foyer, her relief evident in the way her shoulders relax when she sees me.

“Ari,” she says, pulling me into a quick hug. “Thank God. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I assure her, though the ache in my arm says otherwise.

Maxsim steps forward, his voice brisk. “Where’s Alexey?”

---