Page 76 of Blood Oath Christmas
"Fine. What's the update?"
Maksim pulls out his phone, scrolling through messages. "I've got soldiers canvassing the city. The Kozlov family thinks they can take shots at you and disappear, but they're wrong. We'll find them."
Ivy's hands still on my bandage. I feel her tension, the way her breathing changes when we talk business. I watch her face carefully. Her expression is pinched, but I can't tell if it's from the conversation or because she's worried about my wound.
"What about Petrov?" I ask, referring to the soldier who failed to report the men waiting at our estate's perimeter during the New Year's Eve party.
"Handled," Maksim says simply. "Cut off his trigger finger. He won't be making that mistake again."
Ivy's sharp intake of breath cuts through the room. Her hands tremble against my chest, and when I look up at her, her face has gone pale.
"You cut off his finger?" Her voice is barely a whisper.
Viktor looks up from his carving, studying her with those dark eyes that miss nothing. "He put the entire family at risk. Put you at risk. In our world, there are consequences for failure."
"But his finger…” She swallows hard, and I can see her struggling with this reality of our life.
"Ivy." I catch her chin, forcing her to look at me. "Sit down."
She perches on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Maksim and Viktor exchange a look.
"The punishment fits the crime," I explain, keeping my voice gentle but firm. "Petrov’s job was to watch the perimeter. His failure to report those men could have gotten you killed. Could have gotten all of us killed."
"But cutting off his finger seems so…" She trails off, searching for words.
"Extreme?" Viktor supplies, his knife never pausing in its work. "In our world, mercy is often seen as weakness. And weakness gets people killed."
"The men who know we're serious about consequences are the ones who stay loyal," Maksim adds. "The ones who don't make mistakes that put the family at risk."
I watch Ivy process this, see the war playing out across her features. She's trying to understand, trying to accept this part of our world, but it's not easy for someone raised outside the family.
"I need to make some calls," Maksim says, standing. "We should have a location on the Kozlovs by tonight."
Viktor rises too, pocketing his carving and knife. But he pauses at the foot of the bed, looking at Ivy with something almost paternal in his expression.
"You're good for him, you know," he says quietly. "Good for all of us. The family sees it—how you care for him, how you've stepped into your role asDonna. They respect that."
After they leave, silence settles over the room. Ivy's still sitting rigidly on the edge of the bed, staring at her hands.
"Come here," I murmur, shifting to make room for her.
She hesitates, then carefully lies down beside me, her head on my uninjured shoulder. I wrap my good arm around her, pulling her closer until she's pressed against my side.
"I know it's hard to understand," I say, pressing my lips to the top of her head, "but everything we do is to protect the family. To protect you."
"I'm trying to understand," she whispers.
I tighten my hold on her, breathing in her scent. "The way you handled yourself during the shooting, the way you're taking care of me now—you're stronger than you know, little bird."
She tilts her head up to look at me, and something in her expression makes my chest tight. There's a vulnerability there, but also a fierce determination that wasn't there before. She's changing, adapting to this world in ways that both impress and worry me.
"You seem different lately," I observe, studying her face. "More emotional. More protective."
A flush creeps up her neck. "Maybe I'm just finally understanding what it means to be part of this family."
There's something she's not telling me, but before I can press, she yawns, exhaustion clear in every line of her body.
"Rest," I murmur, but my mind is already moving to tomorrow, to what needs to be done.
