Page 86 of Vendetta Vows

She stares at me, challenge flashing across those defiant eyes before she shoulders her way past me. A bratva princess already, carrying herself with the regal bearing of someone who understands the amount of power her name holds.

Artyom catches my eye. "Yeah, that's definitely Lev's daughter."

"No. She's smarter." I sigh and follow my niece inside the mansion.

The foyer erupts with noise and movement the moment I cross the threshold. Daria fusses over my younger nieces like a mother hen as she inspects Sofia's latest masterpiece, a pipe-cleaner sword wrapped in aluminum foil.

"You're so talented and creative,devushka!" Daria exclaims, adjusting Sofia's collar. "And you! Have you grown taller since I last saw you?" she asks Stella, who giggles and stands up straighter.

I halt mid-stride when I glimpse Aurora descending the staircase. Something in my chest tightens at the sight of her.

This beautiful woman with secrets as dark as my own.

Sofia spots her first. "Who's that?" she gasps, pointing with childlike directness.

"Yeah, Uncle Ruslan, who's the pretty lady?" Stella asks, already breaking from Daria's grasp to approach Aurora.

Aurora freezes on the stairs, momentarily caught off-guard by the sudden attention. Her eyes find mine, uncertain.

"That's Aurora," I say, my voice softening. "She's a friend."

Sofia races over, already firing questions. "Do you like swords? I made one! Do you want to see it?"

"I... yes, I'd love to," Aurora responds, her voice gentle as she bends to Sofia's level.

Stella joins her sister, curiosity overriding shyness. "Your hair is so pretty. It looks like sunshine."

Aurora's face relaxes into a genuine smile, and something inside me warms at the sight.

"Who is she really, uncle?"

Mikayla's cold voice cuts through the moment like a blade. She stands rigid, arms crossed, eyeing Aurora with unmasked suspicion.

"Aurora is my guest," I explain, keeping my tone even. "She's staying with us for a while."

"A stranger," Mikayla interrupts, her eyes narrowing. "While we're supposedly here for protection?"

"Mikayla…"

"Is she your girlfriend? Your mistress?" Her lip curls. "Is that why we'rereallyhere? So you can play house while using us as an excuse?"

"That's enough." I step between them. "She is under my protection as well."

"Under your protection?" Mikayla's voice rises. "Or under you in your bed? Because it certainly looks like the latter."

Aurora flinches, and I feel my jaw tighten.

"Mikayla Lvovna, you will show respect in this house."

"Respect?" She practically spits the word. "You bring us here behind our mother's back, and now there's some random woman living here? Who even is she? What does she know about us? About our family?"

"I'm his fiancée."

Aurora's voice catches me off guard, clear and unwavering as she descends the final steps. The way she stands beside me, shoulders squared despite the nervousness I can feel radiating from her, fills me with an unexpected surge of pride.

Mikayla's face transforms from suspicion to outright disbelief.

"Fiancée? You've got to be fucking kidding me." She laughs, the sound brittle and harsh.

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