Page 97 of Masked Seduction
He draws a breath so deep his ribs lift beneath the hospital scrubs someone scrounged for him. “I have a confession.Something I’m not proud of.”
Instant panic. “Is this about last night? Are we in trouble with the police?”
“No.” He squeezes my hand, cutting off the spiral. “Not legal trouble. Personal.” His voice drops to a gravelly hush. “I was going to tell you something at the restaurant. Before Nico ruined everything.”
The memory flashes—candlelight, fabulous wine I couldn’t drink, my own secret burning my tongue. “Okay,” I whisper. “Tell me now.”
He inhales again before those eyes lock onto mine, fierce and unblinking. “I love you, Jenna Ridley.”
Time stands still.
He keeps going, words rushing out as though the dam finally burst. “I’ve loved you since the first day you marched into my office. I knew it was reckless, so I buried it under rules and distance. But last night, seeing a gun to your head, and now knowing that our child could have been gone before I even met them…”
He can’t finish the sentence. He looks away, shame written in the tight line of his shoulders. “I was a coward. Too scared of how hard my feelings for you hit me.” A humorless laugh. “Abram Vasiliev, afraid. Pathetic.”
My heart aches and I scoot closer, wincing at the pull of IV lines, and cup his face in my hands. “There’s nothing pathetic about protecting yourself. Or about protecting me.”
“I failed at both.”
“You didn’t.” I tip his face back so he has no choice but to see the truth in mine. “I’m alive. Baby’s healthy. And you took down an entire army for me. So, apology accepted, if you insist on giving one. But there’s nothing to forgive.”
His eyes flare, hope and disbelief colliding. “You forgive me?”
“I love you, Abram.” Saying it aloud fills me with molten warmth. “I’ve been terrified to admit it because… well, look at you. Crime-lord-slash-sex-god is a bit intimidating on a résumé.”
A true smile cracks his serious mask, small but genuine. He bends, brushing his lips against mine—soft, reverent, loving. My hand slips to his neck, feeling the steady hammer of his pulse.
When he pulls back, determination replaces doubt. “Live with me. Full-time, no more overnight bags.” His hand slides to my stomach. “Raise our child in a place I can keep you safe.”
“Penthouse view and unlimited steak-and-ice-cream room service?” I tease, happy tears threatening to spill.
He huffs a laugh. “Terms negotiable, except for the safety part. That’s non-negotiable.”
“Then yes,” I breathe. “A thousand times yes.”
His arms come around me carefully, tenderly, mindful of bruises. I bury my face in his shoulder, inhaling his scent. Right here, in this fortress of muscle and tenderness, is where I’m meant to be, where our baby will be loved and protected.
An unspoken promise is made in that moment, one neither of us has any intention of breaking.
CHAPTER 39
ABRAM
Rain claws at the windshield in silvery sheets, a sight rarely seen in Vegas.
Inside the Yukon the wipers thud a slow, relaxing rhythm. None of us speak. Mikail drives, shoulders hunched, muscle in his jaw jumping every few seconds as he grinds his teeth. Denis sits shotgun, elbows braced on his knees, thumbs flicking the safety on his pistol on and off.
“Feels like we’re on our way to our own execution,” Denis mutters, gaze fixed on the streaming glass.
“Don’t think about it,” Mikail answers, voice flat. “We’ll walk out. We always walk out.”
I roll the tension from my neck and keep my tone even. “One way or another, we’re getting our audience with Don Agosti. If he’s reasonable, we leave as businessmen. If not, we do things the old way.”
Neither argues. The tension grows heavier.
I picture Jenna the way I left her at home—in bed, dwarfed by my hoodie, still banged up but sporting a warm smile. She appeared confident, yet her eyes tracked every move I made, as if memorizing me in case the universe decided not to return me.
I kissed her forehead, promising I’d be back for dinner. I also promised to bring dessert. She nodded like she believed me, but I could read the terror she was trying to hide.
