Page 226 of Legacy
By the time he pulls away, I can barely breathe.
His forehead rests against mine for a second, like he needs it. Like we both do.
I close my eyes, feeling the ghost of his mouth on mine.
Then he steps back.
“I’m going to cook,” he says quietly, like that kiss didn’t just hollow me out.
“And while I do… I’m going to tell you everything I did.Before you.”
My breath shudders out of me.
“If you have questions, you can interrupt,” he adds. “But I need a promise.”
I nod once, my chest still trembling. “What promise?”
His eyes lift to mine, stormy, filled with something that makes my throat close.
“That you won’t walk away until I’ve finished. That you’ll let me get through it all… before you decide you don’t want me.”
Don’t want him?
The way he says it; it’s not a plea.
It’s a quiet surrender.
Like he’s already expecting the loss.
I press my hand to my heart, grounding myself.
“I promise,” I whisper.
He nods once, like that’s all he needed.
Then he turns away.
The stove clicks on.
Then, quietly. Casually. Like it’s nothing at all—
“My mother’s death was my fault.”
I stop breathing.
His fault.
I wait for his explanation as he continues to cook, like keeping his hands busy will stop him from thinking about the words he’s saying.
“Maksim’s cousin Vasilisa was missing. She was eight. Her father hid the fact that he’d received a ransom demand and paid it alone. If he’d told Korsakov, they would’ve attacked. For a long while, they thought it was the Turkish. They’d had differences for years. It made sense it would be them.”
Vasilisa.My heart sinks for her, so young, taken. I can’t imagine.
Angelo keeps his back to me, stirring the sauce, continuing his menial task like he needs the motion to keep speaking.
“We went to an underground fighting ring run by the Armenians. Looking for intel. They usually worked with the Turks, so we figured… maybe there’d be something.”
His voice is low. Distant. Like he’s narrating someone else’s life.
