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“My life is a living hell without you,” he continued, moving closer. “I can’t eat, sleep, or focus on anything without thoughts of you consuming my mind. Your scent lingers everywhere, your voice fills my dreams, and memories of your smiles are the only things that light up my days.”
His confession seemed to hurt him deeply, and all I wanted was to rush into his arms. Despite everything, my love for him was undeniable, and I couldn’t bear to see him suffer, especially because of me.
“What happened to Marina?” I asked, trying to change the subject and buy time to process everything.
“She’s gone.”
“Gone?”
His words sent chills down my arms.
I felt guilty, wondering if I was somehow to blame for her downfall.
But another part of me felt relieved; she had nearly killed me, and now she was out of my life.
For months, I’d been living in fear that she would track me down in New York and finish me off for good.
He nodded. “I will kill anyone who hurts you.”
I gulped, knowing he meant every word.
Minutes passed as we sized each other up until he closed the gap between us, standing even closer.
I briefly entertained the idea of reaching up to kiss him but pushed it aside.
Suddenly, my thoughts halted as he pressed the cold barrel of his gun against my stomach.
My heart pounded, and I looked down in shock, seeing his hands tremble slightly.
Fear gripped me, and I froze.
“Don’t kill me,” I whispered, trembling.
“Please,” he whispered back, vulnerable. “Take it.”
I shook my head vigorously, unable to comprehend.
“Please, dorogaya. I’d rather endure this pain than live another day without you.”
“But you told me to leave,” I cried, tears streaming down my cheeks, ruining Jade’s hours of makeup work. “I didn’t want to go! I didn’t want to rebuild my life without you, but you forced me to, Volk.”
“I know,” he said softly, placing the gun in my hand and closing my fingers around it. “You can build a beautiful life without me, but I can’t, because you’re the only beautiful thing in mine.”
I sniffed loudly, trying to steady my trembling breath, and glanced down at our intertwined hands.
His rough grip against my softness sent shivers down my spine.
We were opposites in many ways, yet strangely alike in others.
Now, it seemed, this would be the tragic end to our twisted tale.
With a gun between us, our eyes locked in a mix of sorrow and unattainable hope.
Even facing death, our souls yearned to be together.
In that moment, I knew I had to be brave—for myself, for him, for what remained of my shattered dreams.
My fingers tightened around the gun, its cold metal pressed against his chest where his heartbeat pulsed.
