Page 87 of Unspoken

"I thought you were booted off the force."

"Yes, instead of him."

Sasha's eyes search mine, confusion and concern swirling in their green depths. "Why would you do that?"

I swallow hard, my throat tight. "His wife is my friend. They’d just had a little boy, and I... I couldn't bear the thought of that kid growing up with a father who was kicked out of the police. They’d lose all their benefits. I couldn’t do it to that boy. Or to Connie. Wasn’t his fault. So I took the blame."

Sasha is silent, processing my words. I can see the emotions playing out on his face—the shock, the sympathy, the understanding.

"Logan–" he begins, but I shake my head, cutting him off.

"Sasha, if we're going to do this, if we're going to be together, then I can't be your bodyguard anymore. I'm ready to turn in my resignation. You just need to tell me when."

Panic enters Sasha's eyes, his cheeks paling. "What? No, Logan, you can't—"

I reach out, taking his hand in mine, my thumb brushing over his knuckles. "It's okay," I murmur, my voice soft. "I'll still protect you, Sasha. I'll always protect you. But I can't do it as your employee. Not if we're going to have a real chance at this."

Sasha stares at me, his eyes shimmering. "So, you’ll basically do the same but for free?"

"No, not for free. I’ll have you as my reward."

CHAPTER 29

SASHA

I shuffle my feet just outside Vlad's office, the fancy carpet doing little to muffle the sound of my nerves. It's now or never. I've got to lay it all out for Vlad, let him see who I really am. Before he’s gone again.

Logan's words are a fire in my belly, promising resignation and a life together. Brazenly ours.

The door swings open and Ivan steps out, his broad frame blocking the threshold like a bleedin' guard dog. "Not a good time, Sasha," he mutters, eyeing me as though I'm about to nick the silver. "Poposzhe."

"Is it ever a good time?" My voice comes out sharper than I intend, but I can't help it. The urgency snakes up my spine, wrapping tight around my throat. "Piss off."

Ivan hesitates, then steps aside with a grunt that could be agreement or warning—I can't tell which.

I slip past him, heart thudding against my rib cage. I hate this feeling, hate the state of anxiety I’ve been ever since Logan told me he's willing to end his working relationship with Vlad.

My brother’s on the phone, standing behind his desk, his back to me, speaking in hushed tones that don't quite mask the authority woven into every syllable.

"Da, I understand. We'll proceed as planned." He hangs up without another word and turns, his expression schooled into practiced neutrality. "What is it, Sasha?" He fumbles with some papers in front of him. "If this is about rescheduling dinner, it'll have to wait."

"Fuck the dinner." The sentence tumbles out, raw and unfiltered.

"Excuse me?" He lifts his gaze to me.

"We need to talk about me, Vlad. About us."

His eyebrows punch up even higher, a silent challenge in the arch. "Us?"

"Yes, you bloody wanker." My voice cracks like thin ice underfoot. "I can’t keep playin' this game. I’m tired of this bullshit. I want my own place. I’m tired of pretending to be someone I'm not. I won't do it anymore."

Silence unrolls between us, a void filled with unuttered thoughts and unacknowledged truths. I watch as his jaw clenches, the only betraying sign of tension beneath that cool exterior.

"I’m protecting you," he says calmly, voice level but eyes sharp as broken glass. "What more do you want?"

Logan... I want Logan. All to myself.

It’s there, on the tip of my tongue but it won’t come out. I swallow hard, forcing the name past the lump in my throat.

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