Page 68 of Vendetta Vows

And besides, one memory can't hurt me.

"A moment from my past," I start. "Probably when I played Beatrice in my high school production ofMuch Ado About Nothing."

The words feeling strange on my tongue, like opening a time capsule that I'd forgotten about.

Ruslan's face shifts with genuine interest. "I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me."

The familiar line sends an unexpected thrill through me. And even through my storming heart, the smile that it brings to my face is genuine.

"That was my favorite line in the whole play," I confess, warmth spreading through my chest at the memory. "God, I delivered it with such conviction. The audience actually laughed."

"You still want to, don't you?" Ruslan observes. "To stand on stage. To be seen."

"Yeah. I suppose I do." I lower my eyes to my wine glass, watching the dark liquid catch the light. "You know, I got a scholarship to study theater at Northwestern but I never took it."

"Why not?"

"It was too risky."

The confession hangs between us for a moment before an awful familiar memory crashes through me without warning.

Look what you made me do.

My hand trembles as I reach for my wine glass, nearly knocking it over. I manage to grab it, taking a large swallow that burns all the way down.

Ruslan notices. He rises from his chair and comes around the table, taking the seat beside me.

His hand finds mine as his voice drops to the gentle timber that steadies my shivering heart. "I can make that happen for you, Aurora."

"You don't have to," I lie, setting the glass down carefully. "It's just... I can't go back to dreaming about that anymore. Just like you can't go back to when you and Lev were children. Some doors close forever."

Ruslan nods in agreement but says nothing. Instead, he gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. His touch anchors me as the memories threaten to pull me under, back to that blood-soaked house in Kansas City.

The warmth of his palm against mine creates a tether to the present.

To safety.

I'm thankful for his silence. For not pushing. For somehow knowing exactly what I need without me having to explain.

After a few steadying breaths, I muster a smile. "Truth or dare."

His gold eyes search mine. "Dare."

The word hangs between us, charged with possibility. My heart kicks against my ribs as an idea forms. Something playful yet intimate.

"I dare you to show me..." I begin, my voice barely above a whisper, "where you like to be touched." I feel my cheeks warming. "Other than your cock, of course."

A smile flickers across Ruslan's lips, but there's something else there too. A flash of vulnerability, a hint of sadness in those eyes. For a moment, I think he might refuse, might pull his walls back up.

Instead, he takes my hand and lifts it slowly towards him. His movements are deliberate, almost reverent as he moves. I hold my breath as he guides my fingers past his jaw, past his shoulder, until they come to rest on the nape of his neck, just below his hairline.

My fingertips meet warm skin and the soft ends of his curls. It feels profoundly intimate. More so than if he'd chosen somewhere more obvious.

"Why there?" I ask softly.

Ruslan's eyes hold mine, unguarded for once. "It reminds me of a simpler time that I can't go back to anymore."

Understanding passes between us, mirroring my own lost history. I turn fully toward him and bring my other hand up, cradling the base of his neck with both hands. The gesture feels protective, tender.

---