Page 21 of Ruins
His lips curl into a smirk. “Ow, Vasi.”
“In my defense, Maksim didn’t tell me who I was assigned to until after I dropped you off,” he says, glancing toward Mimi, who now stands beside us, watching the exchange.
“See you tomorrow, Pietro.” She flashes him a quick smile before darting off to her room.
Pietro’s eyes don’t leave her until she’s safely inside. Only then does he turn his full attention back to me.
“You okay?”
I exhale slowly, my grip tightening around the folder still in my hand. “I don’t know. I’m apparently marrying Santo Amato.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “I knew you were arranged, but I didn’t know who to.” His head tilts slightly, expression shifting. “He’s a big deal, Vasi. This bodes well for you. A powerful man like him, in a powerful family… no wonder I was reassigned. You’re going to need more security.”
My stomach twists.“More security?”
Pietro immediately softens, shaking his head. “Hey, don’t worry, Vasi. This is good for you. And for the Bratva.”
His hands find my shoulders, grounding me, steadying me. Then, slowly, they slide up—one resting against my cheek, fingers tilting my chin up until I have no choice but to look at him.
“Breathe.”
I inhale shakily, focusing on the quiet intensity in his gaze—filled with concern and something more, something unspoken yet palpable.
Pietro has been my protector, my confidant—the one person I can count on when everything else feels like it’s spinning out of my control.
He knows me better than anyone.
Knows my fears. Knows my hopes. Knowsme.
And right now, standing in the dim glow of the hallway, with an arranged marriage hanging over my head and an uncertain future waiting for me, he’s the only thing that feels familiar.
A rush of emotions crashes through me—gratitude for his unwavering loyalty, anxiety over what lies ahead with Santo Amato, and something else.
Something I can’t place.
Pietro’s thumb brushes against my cheek, a silent reassurance.
A promise.
No matter what happens, we’re in this together.
“You’ll be fine, Vasi,” he says, his voice a soothing balm to my frayed nerves. “I’ll make sure of it.”
A sense of calm settles over me. “Thank you, Pietro,” I whisper. For a second, I let myself lean into his touch, wishing, irrationally, that it could be him. But wishing is dangerous, and in this life, it’s useless.
“Goodnight.”
Pietro makes his leave as I go back to my room and prepare myself for what’s to come.
Chapter 5
Vasilisa
Iwakeuptomyblanket being ripped off me, followed by the sharp clatter of blinds being yanked open. Sunlight floods my room, merciless and unforgiving.
With a groan, I bury my face into my pillow, clinging to the last remnants of sleep.
It doesn’t last.
