Page 113 of Desperate Actions

I swallow, blinking back the sudden sting of emotion.

“Oh,” I whisper, shaking my head, trying to focus. “Well, reading is supposed to be this solitary thing, right? Something people do to relax. But for people like me—people with dyslexia—it’s never solitary. Not at first. It’s hard and frustrating, and we always need help. And when I was a kid, dyslexia wasn’t something people talked about. It was ignored. Dismissed. Something you had to be ashamed of.”

Sammy’s jaw tightens, his expression darkening.

“To think you struggled alone for years before getting diagnosed,” he mutters, voice low and rough, like the very idea makes him want to break something.

I shrug, forcing a smile.

“My mom fought for me,” I say softly. “She knew something was wrong and wouldn’t let them ignore it. But by the time I was diagnosed, I’d already spent years feeling like I was stupid.”

“You are not stupid,” Sammy growls, his hand fisting in the sheets, his whole body coiled with tension.

I smile, leaning forward, pressing a kiss to his chest.

“I know that now. And my parents knew it too. But a lot of kids don’t have that kind of support. So I createdReadEaseto help. To make sure no one feels like they have to hide it. To give people with dyslexia a way to navigate the world without shame.”

Sammy’s hand curls around me and I snuggle into his warmth, but my mind is racing.

“You know, I’ve been talking to a woman I knew from college—she’s a teacher now. She thinks I might be able to testReadEaseat her school,” I say, fingers toying with the hem of the blanket. “If it works, maybe other schools will get on board. Maybe it could actually help people.”

I bite my lip, suddenly feeling small.

What if it’s a pipe dream?

What if I’ve poured everything into this, only for it to fail?

But then Sammy’s voice cuts through the doubt like a blade.

“Goddamn right, it will work and your app will help countless people.” His hand is warm and steady as he grips my hip, anchoring me. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Pixie.”

I blink.

“What? Why?”

His gaze darkens with intensity, his hand sliding up, his thumb grazing my skin.

“Because you’re a miracle,” he murmurs. “You took something most people would have seen as a weakness, and you turned it into a strength. You fought through it. You didn’t let it define you. And now? You’re using what you learned to help others. You’re brave. You’re caring. You’re so fucking brilliant, Aella.”

His words hit me like a punch to the chest, leaving me breathless.

I don’t know what to say. No one has ever put it like that before.

Not that my parents weren’t supportive—they were.

But Sammy? He looks at me like I’ve conquered the impossible.

Like I’m unstoppable.

Like he’s in awe of me.

And that’s a priceless feeling. To have someone’s unwavering belief in you.

I swallow past the emotion rising in my throat, needing to shift the focus before I break down.

“So,” I say, clearing my throat, “I know Volkov Industries is a powerhouse, but how exactly did you come to be an owner? Was it a gift?”

Sammy snorts, shaking his head.

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