Page 112 of Dark Promise (Suvorov Bratva 1)

“You’ll ruin your nail beds. The cuticles,” I argue. “They’ll never grow back in correctly. You could get an infection. You couldhurtyourself.”

She stares blankly at me for a moment and then says, “You care about that?”

“Yes. You’re my wife. Why wouldn’t I care?”

“Only enough so that it suits you, right?”

It hurts to hear her say that, but she isn’t wrong.

At least, not entirely.

I lower her hand into her lap, but I don’t release it. “Yes.”

“You know what I’m scared of, Pavel?” She waits for a beat, taking a shaky breath before continuing, “I’m scared of what’s going to happen when Idoget pregnant.”

I bow my head. There’s nothing for me to say to that.

“What’s going to happen after I give birth?” She clutches my hand, urging me to look at her. “What’s going to happen to our child, Pavel?”

Thereissomething for me to say to that.

She just won’t like it.

But I don’t see any use in keeping the truth from her at this point. We’ve been working as a team. I promised to treat her as my equal.

My word is my bond.

She might as well know about my plans.

“I was going to take the baby,” I tell her, avoiding her gaze. “And then you would be free to do what you want. Go to med school. Become a doctor. Become a surgeon. Change the world.”

“What’s the point in doing all that if I…” Her voice cracks. I still don’t look at her. Ican’t. “If I don’t have my child with me?”

I nod. “I can’t imagine doing it, Liya. Each day I spend getting closer to you makes it harder to think of my life without you next to me.”

“But you wanted to do it. Youwantedto take our child away from me. For what? So he could be raised in the Bratva. Like you were?”

I meet her gaze. She has no idea how hard that final question hurt. The amber marbles that infected me with such desire now harbor a billowing resentment. It’s not hatred yet, but it’s well on its way.

And I can’t stand that possibility.

“Yes,” I whisper. “I would have done that.”

“Would you have felt good about it?”

I clear my throat, the air suddenly feeling too dry to inhale. “If I hadn’t known you, yes. I would have felt fine. But now?” I shake my head. “I know you’re afraid of me, Liya. But sometimes I’m afraid of you.”

Her inquiry sounds so small that I nearly miss it: “Why?”

“I’ve done things that would make people faint,” I explain. “I’veseenthings that would make grown men weak at the knees. I’ve had to…”

I search the sky for the words. But they’re not up there. They’re in my heart. Where she’s made a nest.

When I look at her, the words come to me little by little. “I’m afraid of losingyou, Liya.”

Her expression softens. “Pavel…”

“You make me feel things. You make mecare.”

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