Page 93 of Thorns of Love
Wasn’t that the goddamned truth?
It didn’t matter. I wasn’t my father. I’d never let Tatiana go. She was mine and I was hers. She was in this mess because of my father. Because of Adrian. I’d get her out and then I’d keep her forever.
She was my woman. For better or for worse. In sickness and health.
I meant every vow we spoke when I put that ring on her finger. It was more than just obsession or physical attraction. After all the shit with my mother, my father’s bitterness changed him. He taught me that women are useless and good only for two things. Fucking and breeding.
My mother taught me that Maxim and I were unworthy of her love. She was unwilling to let go of her lover to stay with my father. She was willing to risk all our lives. Deep down, she must have known she’d get caught. Nothing ever escaped my father. And still she didn’t care.
But when I met Tatiana, things in my chest shifted. I didn’t notice it. Not at first. I spent years obsessing over the blonde angel until she strode through my L.A. restaurant. Only to learn weeks later she’d already eloped.
She was my nirvana. My chance at redemption. My chance at happiness.
Tatiana had touched parts of me that were dead from the moment I saw my mother shot in front of me. The parts of me I had forgotten. It was more than just a physical need. It was about the connection I felt with her. Whenever she fell apart under me, I felt her soul merge with mine. I felt that connection grow with each word and each gaze. There was no sating this thirst for her.
I wouldn’t be able to live on without her. Just the idea of losing her had raw pain exploding in my chest, making it unbearable to breathe.
So I’d chase Adrian to that fucking parking lot where it all began.
I’d give him what he wanted. If it was my death he wanted; he’d get it. But he’d die too. It was the only thing that would protect Tatiana and our babies.
My father’s voice from all those years ago echoed in my brain like a broken record.
Boys grow up to become men. They come back to find you, and suddenly, the hunter becomes the hunted.
No more second chances.
It was a hard lesson to learn.
THIRTY-FOUR
TATIANA
“Adrian, please.”
My feet were frozen. Bare feet and Russian winters didn’t mesh well. My feet hurt, the cold seeped into my bones, sending shivers up my body. The coat I wore did nothing to keep me warm.
I was dressed for the French Riviera, not fucking Russia.
“Adrian.” I tried to pull away as Nikita dragged me further away from the car.
“Where are the fucking Yakuza?” Nikita hissed, ignoring me. Panic swelled inside me, my eyes darting around. Adrian was typing furiously on the phone, his brows furrowing each time he looked at me.
“You’re working with Yakuza?” I accused, glaring at them both. “They’ve been trying to kill me.”
“They’re going to buy the chip,” Nikita answered.
“Actually, they’re out,” Adrian remarked. “They tried to bypass me and go straight for Tatiana. I have another buyer.”
Nikita whipped around, his grip on me slightly loosening.
“Who? You didn’t say anything.” Adrian kept his eyes on his phone, not acknowledging him. “Goddamn it, Adrian! Who?”
Adrian didn’t miss a beat. “Sofia Volkov.”
I tensed. I’d heard my brother and Illias discuss Sofia Volkov. The lunatic. Jesus fucking Christ. Why was this world so goddamn small?
“Well, where in the fuck is she?” Nikita growled.
