Page 24 of Crimson Curse
She sighs, and I can almost hear her sinking into the familiar worn velvet of our couch, curling her legs under herself like she always does when a conversation gets heavy and the world becomes too complicated for simple solutions. “You're telling me you're willing to live in that world? With guns, enemies, and betrayals. With people like Viktor who see you as a weakness to exploit.”
The question demands honesty, but I'm not sure I'm ready to give it. But as I sit here in Daniil's space, surrounded by evidence of his power and protection, I find the answer comes easier than I expected.
“Yes,” I answer without hesitation, the word coming from somewhere deep and certain inside me. “Because I'd rather fight through danger with him than live a safe life without him.”
She is quiet for a long moment, and I can imagine her processing every angle, running through every worst-case scenario with themethodical thoroughness that makes her such a good friend and such an effective event planner.
“I don't understand it,” she finally admits, her voice small and honest. “But I can hear it in your voice when you talk about him. You're completely gone for this man.”
“I am,” I confess, my voice thick with emotion. The admission feels like stepping off a cliff, and finally acknowledging something that's been true for longer than I've been willing to admit. “I've never felt this way about anyone, Charlotte. Even when everything is scary and uncertain, and when his world threatens to swallow me whole, I can't imagine being anywhere else.”
“I just…” Her voice softens, breaking in places she tries to hide, and I can hear the tears she's fighting back. “I just want you safe, Naomi. Happy, yes, absolutely, but safe and alive first. The thought of losing you…”
Her words trail off, but I can fill in the silence. Charlotte's parents are distant, more concerned with their social standing than their daughter's well-being. Her brother lives on the opposite coast and calls maybe twice a year. We've been each other's chosen family since college, the people who show up for each other no matter what.
“You won't lose me,” I promise, meaning it with every fiber of my being. “I will be safe. Daniil won't let anything happen to me. Not now. Not ever.”
“You sound so sure.”
“I am.” And I mean it completely. “He'd burn the world down before he'd let anyone hurt me.”
She lets out a breath that sounds like surrender, like acceptance of something she doesn't understand but recognizes as immovable. “Fine. But if he so much as makes you cry, I'm coming for him. Bratva or no Bratva.”
I laugh, the sound unexpected and bright, the tension loosening in my chest for the first time since I dialed her number. The image of Charlotte, all five feet four inches of her, going toe to toe with Daniil Zorin is both ridiculous and oddly touching. “I'll let him know to fear the wrath of Charlotte Miller.”
“Good. And Naomi?”
“Yeah?”
“Congratulations. You're going to be an amazing mom.”
Her words hit somewhere deep, settling into a place I didn't know was empty until she filled it. For all the uncertainty and all the fear about bringing a child into Daniil's dangerous world, Charlotte's simple confidence in me makes a light brighten in my chest.
We talked for nearly an hour after that, the conversation gradually easing into more familiar territory. At first, it's practical things. Charlotte making sure I have everything I need, asking if I'm eating properly, if I've seen a doctor yet, and if I need her to send anything from our apartment. I tell her I'm fine on all counts, that Daniil has made sure I want for nothing.
She asks about my exhibit at the museum. I tell her I've already been in touch with my superiors, carefully crafting an explanation for my absence. I kept it vague, of course, but let them know there had been a personal emergency that required me to work remotely for a while. They've been surprisingly understanding, even encouraging me to send notes on thecontact I've had with donors and any future exhibits I want to work on.
“The museum is still a part of me no matter where I am,” I tell Charlotte, and I realize as I speak the words how true they are. Just because my life has taken this sharp left turn into Daniil's world doesn't mean I have to abandon everything I've worked for.
She relaxes a little at that, like she's relieved I'm not throwing away the part of myself she's always been most proud of. “Good,” she responds with genuine warmth. “Because you've worked too hard to let it all vanish just because your love life turned into a Bratva soap opera.”
I laugh, the sound loosening some of the tension that's been living in my chest for days.
“And don't worry about me,” she adds, her tone shifting into mock seriousness that I recognize as her way of lightening the mood. “I'll survive without you as a roommate. In fact…” I can practically hear the smirk in her voice. “I might enjoy living alone for a while. No more fighting over the last cup of coffee, no more mystery leftovers in the fridge that you swear aren't yours but definitely are.”
I grin, picturing her dramatic eye roll. “You're going to miss me.”
“Of course I'll miss you,” she responds, softer now, the teasing edge giving way to genuine affection. “But I want you where you're happiest. And if that's with him, then… okay. I'll learn to live with it.”
The conversation drifts into lighter territory after that, like she's trying to throw me a lifeline back to normalcy. We trade updates about old classmates, laugh over a few shared memories fromour college days, and gossip about the latest drama in her event planning business. For a while, it almost feels like nothing has changed, and I'm still the same girl who worried about deadlines, grocery bills, and whether my boss liked my latest presentation.
When we finally hang up, the quiet of the room feels different. Not empty or lonely, but settled. Peaceful, even. Talking to Charlotte didn't erase the danger that still lingers at the edges of everything, the knowledge that Viktor is still out there somewhere, and Daniil's world will always carry risks I'm only beginning to understand. But it reminded me that there's more to my life than fear. There's love. The consuming passion I feel for Daniil and the steady, enduring friendship with Charlotte that has anchored me for years. There's a future ahead of us, uncertain but bright with possibility.
I press my hand to my stomach again, my thumb tracing small circles over the place where our child grows. “We've got this,” I whisper, more to myself than anyone else, but meaning it for all three of us—me, Daniil, and the tiny life we created together. And for the first time since Viktor took me, since my world turned upside down and inside out, I believe it completely.
The low sound of footsteps pulls my gaze toward the doorway. Daniil fills the frame, all sharp lines and quiet authority, his dark suit immaculate. His eyes find mine instantly, scanning my face like he's reading every thought I haven't spoken aloud.
“You were on the phone,” he observes. It isn't a question.
