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Chapter 14

fourteen

Alexandr

I pace in front of her.

I know she doesn't want to discuss us, but I won't let her give up on our future just yet. I know I'm a hypocrite, but I love her, I have for a long time, and I can't lose her.

I stop in front of her and heave out a heavy breath, hoping this goes my way.

"I know you don't want to talk about it, and I know you believe there isn't an us, but there is because you're bound to me. Phoebe, you and I—we're connected. I didn't go about things the right way, I know this. I should have learned from my brother's mistakes, but I didn't. He even tried talking to me, and I ignored him. I have no one to blame but myself. I can't let you go, malen'kaya ptitsa ."

She looks down at her lap, but I continue, "One year." Her head snaps up—so fast, I think she may have given herself whiplash.

She asks, "What?"

I smile and reach out, tucking her hair behind her ear, loving the pink in it. I can see the conflict in her eyes; she wants my touch, but the hurt I gave her outweighs her feelings for me. "Give me one year." She shakes her head. "Just hear me out, please. "I know I don't deserve to plead, but please, Phoebs, hear me out." She sighs, and as I'm about to talk, I hear a female voice behind me.

"This should be good."

I growl, knowing it's her roommate, Abby. My background research showed how close they've become, so I know I can't kill her for interrupting. Phoebe's scowl confirms my thought. She turns her attention to her friend.

"What happened to Luke, or was it Tim?" my girl asks, making Abby chuckle.

"It's Anthony this time, and he's waiting for me outside. I forgot to grab my purse this morning. Are you good?" I see her cock her head in my direction, and then Phoebe sighs and nods. Abby gives her a small smile, then a side hug and a kiss on the cheek. She then looks at me, her multi-colored hair in a messy bun, and dark brown eyes assessing me. "I know what you were just about to suggest. If she goes for it and you hurt her again, I will skin you alive. Our girl taught me most of what she knows, got it!" Both my eyebrows shoot to my hairline.

I nod and give her a smile, while Phoebe chuckles at her friend's threat.

"Wish me luck for a good orgasm," Abby chuckles as she goes out the front door.

I look at Phoebe, my eyes saying "really?" , and all she does is shrug as she blushes. I chuckle, and she narrows her eyes at me. So, placing my hands up in a surrender motion, I continue what I was going to say.

"Give me one year to prove I won't hurt you, one year to convince you to come home and transfer vet schools, one year to prove all I want and need is you. And, if in a year, you realize how much we belong together, then we get married and finally start the family we've always talked about." I hold my breath. I only thought of this in the car; it would mean I'd have to travel back and forth several times from here to New York, but I know my brother would understand.

She taps her finger on the counter, and stares at the wall for about five minutes, before she finally looks up at me.

"What happens if you fail?" she inquires coldly.

My heart is in my throat, and I clear it to eliminate the lump. "Then I will never contact you again. I'll allow you to move on, and I'll ensure your father and sister, if you haven't killed her yet, leave you alone, too."

She smirks about murdering her sister, then she sighs, gets up, and goes down the hallway to the right. I stand here for ten minutes, letting her have her time before I finally give in and find her. As I go down the hallway, I notice a door open at the end, and go through it. She's sitting in the middle of her bed, pictures of us are in front of her, and my heart hurts for what I've done. I watched my brother do the same thing, and instead of learning from his mistakes, I followed in his footsteps.

I step in her room and look around. It doesn't seem like hers; one wall is dark gray, and the rest is light, with dark gray curtains. She has a double door to what I'm guessing is her walk-in closet, and another door that leads to a bathroom. She has a king-sized bed with gray sheets, where Ares has made himself comfy on her pillow. I walk over to her, sit on the edge of the bed beside her, and look at the pictures. There must be over twenty of them from our time together. From banquets to just us goofing around at the café, I smile sadly; I've fucking missed her. Candy was really just a distraction. I'm a dickhead for thinking I could use her to punish my girl for my fucking mistakes.

I wait patiently for her to talk, and when she does, it's not what I want to talk about, but I placate her for now.

"We need to kill Mihai, or I need to, but I'd need the Bratva, and the Greeks and Italians as backup. I have the proof, so the council shouldn't be too upset, especially since he's been the Romanian boss all along, using Christian as the fall guy."

I clear my throat. "I've already sent a message to Damian; he will set up a meeting at Volkov I dropped my mask for you and became the girl I used to be before I became this person." She motions to herself with her hand as a lone tear falls from her eye. I gently wipe it away, cupping her cheek, hoping she doesn't push me away, even though I deserve it. She leans into my touch instead, and my eyes water as she looks at me, and finally, she shows me her vulnerability.

The pain in her eyes is unbearable, and I have to fight not to look away.

"I was bound by you when I shouldn't have been; you were supposed to be my sister's, and I fell for you when I didn't want to, and you destroyed me to the point where I placed the cold-killer mask on permanently. You swore you wouldn't do what Damian had done to Sofia." She sniffles, and my heart breaks at what I have done.

"How do you expect me to give you a year when you did what you did?" I close my eyes, squeezing them tight, as she continues, "We're not just talking about some random women here, Alex, we're talking about my sister, the girl who tried to sell me for her own gain. My blood."

I look at her, and I know what I have to do. Nothing I say will convince her; I'm the villain in her story, but I know someone who will help her make sense of her thoughts. I lean forward and place a gentle kiss on her forehead, and I whisper, "I love you, malen'kaya ptitsa , I just didn't show it how I should have. What I did was inexcusable, and something you should punish me for every day for the rest of our lives. I know nothing I say will convince you, so what I'm going to do is go into your kitchen, and I'm going to make you your favorite baked moussaka, even though I hate it." I chuckle a little, and a sad smile appears on her face. "And I'm going to leave my phone with you."

I kiss her forehead again and get up, missing her body heat next to mine, but instead of returning to her, I get my phone out of my jeans and hand it to her. "The code is your birthday. Call Sofia."

More tears fall from her eyes when she realizes what I'm doing—giving her time to process the offer but, more importantly, helping her contact a woman she became close to before she left—the same woman who also ran because of a Volkov.

I give her a small smile, turn, and leave her room, heading for the kitchen with Ares on at heels. I place my palms on the edge of the sink, hang my head, and take a deep breath, hoping and praying she accepts the offer, and that Sofia can help. If that doesn't work, I've got one last ace up my sleeve, a woman Phoebe adores….

My mama!

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