Page 122 of Brutal Vows

He leans in, nudges me closer, and kisses me. It’s gentle and warm and precious, and I cup his face with both hands to keep him there, to kiss him deeper.

When he pulls away, he pins me with the intensity in his gaze. “And I love you. I’d go through this a thousand times again just to have you like this, with me, always.”

57

LUCA

“I love you too,” she sobs. “So, so much.”

Milana is in my arms, her soft hands on my naked skin, circling my sides, careful not to touch my injuries. I groan as I pull her close, fingers in her hair, breathing her in.

“Princess.” Who am I fooling? She’ll always be my princess.

“I didn’t see you coming, Luca. I didn’t expect any of this.”

Now I’m falling apart too. Her words…they aren’t forced, they aren’t acted. They pour out of her as if from her soul.

“I never thought a man—my husband—would have it in him to do this for me…for my baby.”

“I would do anything for you,” I whisper into her hair, choking up, knowing my breaking apart in front of her is nothing. This is just us, picking up the pieces we were shattered into tonight. We’re going to take these pieces and build our future together, rise out of this rubble stronger. “I didn’t see you coming either, Milana.”

“Tonight…it cost you so much.”

“It cost you too,” I whisper. The type of cost that draws interest years down the line.

She quivers with emotions she can finally release after holding them in for months. But it’s more than that. She stepped up and did what she had to do, gave her friend the coup de grâce. It took courage I don’t know if I even have in me. Milana could have left it to me, but she made the choice to do as Masha asked, to honor her friend’s final wishes, irrespective of what it demanded of her. She spared her in so many ways, took the shot when Masha wouldn’t have expected it, cutting out the agony and uncertainty of waiting.

These tears are about so much more than being reunited with Zoe, with everything she’s gone through before and after her baby’s birth. Tonight took everything from her and will likely haunt her as much as it will give her relief that her friend’s pain is finally over. These tears are about a future she got gifted on the back of her best friend’s death and a baby who died, a prop replacing her own.

I hug her close and let us cry.

And then, as if someone realized she was missing out on the party, Zoe starts crying too.

“Fuck it,” I joke as I pull away. “I suppose this is where the adults need to adult up?”

“Yes.” Milana gives a brittle laugh as she wipes at her cheeks, eyes bloodshot with tears and exhaustion. “This is where the party starts. Always tired, always on call. You’re going to love it.”

“I am.” I let go of her so I can lean back and shift to pick Zoe up. “Cutie pie,” I murmur as I press a passing kiss to her head. “Go to Mommy. I’m going to shower and then we’ll cuddle again, okay?”

I want to hold her to my chest, but there is too much going on what with raw wounds and blood and oozing. I kiss her and hand her to Milana, who immediately stands and rocks Zoe, whispering to her gently, as if they haven’t been separated for months.

“Give me five minutes,” I say, limping to the bathroom and taking the medical supplies with me.

I wash what I can under the shower, avoiding getting too much water on my wounds. Don’t trust the Russian version of water here. For a moment, I lift my face to the shower head, let the water hammer down on my face where the backhand swipe to my cheek is going to leave a nasty bruise. I let go of my emotions, knowing the shit I’ve gone through tonight will haunt me too.

It could have been worse. So much worse.

We just need to get out of Russia and back to Italy. Once we’re there, we can stay for as long as it takes to figure shit out. One thing is certain: I can’t walk with a limp around Matteo and Dominic. They will smell a lie like sulphur. I’m going to need to heal properly first.

I turn the shower off and pat myself dry with the grey-washed hotel-edition towel. When I’m done covering my wounds properly this time, making sure my bandages are sealed and tight, I make my way back into the bedroom.

Milana is still fully clothed, wrapped around Zoe’s tiny body, and both are fast asleep. Mom and daughter. My wife and child. I melt with love.

On the nightstand, the satellite phone’s signal light beeps.

Benedict.

I reach for it and read the message. And read it again. He sent it ten minutes ago already.