Chapter 47

47

GWEN

W hen mafiosos ask you to go on a ride, it normally means they're going to kill you—or at least that's what the mafia movies say. A ride to your end.

It doesn't matter that my stomach is so twisted I feel like my intestines might snap. I wrap my arms around Nikolai's torso, gripping so tight my elbows dig into my sides. The purr of the motorcycle vibrates through my body, but I focus on the scent of him—woodsy, earthy, and undeniably Nik. If I'm going to die today, that's the last thing I want to smell: him.

The wind whips past as we speed down the empty road. He hasn't said much since we left the house, just told me to get on the bike. Five weeks of silence between us, and now this? My heart races, and not from the speed.

I lean my cheek against his back, breathing him in, letting myself have these final moments. The silence, the waiting, the wondering—it's been killing me slowly. I'd almost rather he just do it already, if that's what this is. End it, put me out of this misery .

I clutch onto him like he's my lifeline, knowing that he can't let me stay in his world or be his mafia queen—not if he doesn't trust me. I don't want to stay if this is what our life looks like, with him shutting me out and me feeling like my life is always hanging in the balance. That's no way to live life.

The rumbling of the bike fades to a low hum as we turn off the main road and enter a thick forest. The trees tower over us, their branches reaching and intertwining to create a canopy above. As we navigate through the winding path, I feel a sense of peaceful isolation settling in and the beauty of the forest washes over me.

Finally, we come to a stop near a small clearing and Nik cuts the engine, causing an abrupt stillness to descend. I release my tight grip on him, feeling the tension leave my body. Nik swings his leg over the bike and stands, surveying our surroundings before walking silently deeper into the forest. I slide off the bike, my knees shaky as I follow silently behind him.

His gaze is drawn to something in the distance, but I can't quite make out what it is from where I trail silently behind him. It's then that I notice the small clearing ahead, dotted with wildflowers and a single stone marker. The only sound now is the gentle rustling of leaves, the distant chirping of birds, and our unsteady breathing.

"Nik." I swallow, my body prickling with nerves. "I know I have a lot to apologize for, but I-"

"This is where I buried the parts of my mother I received," Nik says quietly, his voice rougher than usual. "No one knows about this place, not even my siblings."

I blink, the weight of his words sinking in. He's brought me here—here, where he buries his mother, to kill me. At least it will be sentimental, at least he will remember me.

"Oh," I whisper.

"Her childhood home is across the clearing, but the old bastard who owns it won't let me buy it." He lets out a sad chuckle, and I stare at the tension rippling through his back.

"Nik." I brush my fingers over his shoulder blade, contentment rushing through me at the shiver that ripples under my touch. "Why am I here?"

He turns to face me, his eyes soft but filled with something else—something deeper, darker. "Because I need you to know how much you matter to me. You planted that garden back home thinking I had no place to mourn my mother while you mourned alone."

I drop my gaze to the packed dirt beneath us. Every time I am reminded of Nana, it feels like I have been sliced open. "You know…about Nana Rose?"

Nik's eyes soften as he takes a step closer, his hand reaching for mine. "Nadia told me, but you should have told me. I should have been there for you. You shouldn't have had to mourn her alone, Gwen."

The raw emotion in his voice makes my chest ache. I want to look away, to hide the vulnerability bubbling up inside me, but I can't. It feels like the weight of the last four weeks is starting to lift, but it also feels fragile—like it could all crumble if I say the wrong thing.

"I knew you needed space after everything I did. I didn't want to guilt you into talking to me," I admit, the words spilling out before I can stop them .

His face hardens, a flicker of regret passing through his eyes. "No matter what, you should never feel like you can't come to me. I'm sorry. I never should have let it get that far."

I look up at him, my heart pounding as I try to hold back the tears threatening to spill. "You were dealing with so much, Nik. Your dad, the Yakuza, and the Italians. I didn't want to distract you with my own drama."

"Your safety is never a distraction, Kotik." Nik pinches my chin between his fingers, and I drown in his ocean blue eyes. His jaw clenches for a second and then he whispers, "I know. I failed you. I failed us."

I feel a tear slip down my cheek, and I quickly brush it away, hating how exposed I feel.

Nik steps closer, his presence overwhelming, and the depth of his gaze pins me in place. I can feel the intensity radiating off him—the raw guilt, the pain, and something deeper. Something that reaches out to me despite the weeks of silence, and when his fingertips brush over my jaw, I know I'm a goner.

My breath hitches, and I try to keep my composure, but it's impossible. His touch is soft, so careful, yet his grip on me feels like a lifeline—like if he lets go, I'll slip away forever.

"I wasn't there when you needed me most," he repeats, his voice cracking. "Mason…Boris…I should have protected you from them. They got to you in my own house, in front of everyone, and I—" His eyes darken, and for a moment, I can see the war he's been fighting within himself. "I fucking failed you."

I shake my head, wanting to tell him it's not his fault, that none of this is, but the words get stuck in my throat. Because part of me—part of me knows the truth. That we've both been walking this tightrope for so long, holding everything inside, not letting each other in, and this…this was bound to happen.

Nik's hands tremble slightly as he holds my face, his thumbs wiping at my cheeks even though the tears keep falling. He takes a breath, as if he's gathering the strength to say what's next.

"A selfless man," he says slowly, "would tell you to take the kids and run. To get as far away from me, from this life as possible. And you should. You should leave me, Gwen. For you, for Mia and Gio, it's the right thing to do."

I stare at him, my heart shattering with each word.

"But I…I'm not selfless. I'm fucking selfish, because I can't let you go. Gwen, you are mine. I would rather die than lose you. Do you understand that?" His voice is a low, dangerous growl, but there's a vulnerability in his eyes, a desperation that makes me want to reach out and wrap my arms around him, to tell him I'm his just as much as he's mine. But I stand frozen, caught between his words and the truth we've been avoiding for so long.

He leans his forehead against mine, his breath warm and uneven, and the world around us narrows down to this moment. Just me and Nik, standing in the clearing where he buries his pain and his secrets. Where he's brought me to let it all go.

"I've made mistakes," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I swear to you, Gwen, I will never let that happen again. I will do anything— anything —to protect you and the kids."

"I know," I croak through the thickening emotion in my chest .

Nik's eyes tighten like he's in pain. "If you know I will protect you, then I need you to act like it." His fingers tighten slightly on my chin, like he's afraid I'll pull away. "Promise me you'll let me fight your fights. No more secrets. No more doing this on your own. Let me protect you."

My eyes drop to his lips. "And what about you, who's going to protect you?"

"Don't worry about me, Kotik." He hooks his index under my chin and lifts my eyes back to his. "I have the entire Russian mafia backing me."

His smile is a wicked gleam that makes my panties soaked.

"I—" My voice cracks, but I steady myself. "I promise, Nik. No more secrets. I'll let you fight for me, for us."

Relief floods his features, and before I can say anything more, his lips crash against mine. The kiss is fierce, desperate, filled with all the emotions we've been holding back for weeks. His hands slip from my face to wrap under my thighs, and I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist. He cups my ass, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us. I melt into him, feeling the tension, the fear, and the uncertainty of the last few weeks dissolve into this moment.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine again, and he takes a deep breath. "Marry me, Gwen," he says softly, the words so unexpected, so raw, that my heart skips a beat.

I blink up at him, shocked. "What?"

"I know most men ask." He pauses, searching my eyes for something. "But I am telling you to marry me."

His words hit me like a shockwave, and I feel my breath catch in my throat. There's no hesitation, no doubt in his voice. He's not asking, not giving me a choice—just like everything else with Nikolai Petrov. He takes what he wants, and right now, what he wants is me.

A shiver runs through me, not from fear but from the raw intensity of it all. His grip on my thighs tightens, and the hard press of his body against mine leaves no room for argument. I'm not sure I'd want to argue, even if I could.

"Marry me, Kotik," he murmurs again, his lips brushing against mine. "I'm not letting you go. Not now, not ever."

I should feel suffocated, I should push him away, tell him we need to talk, to slow down. But all I feel is the deep pull in my chest, the part of me that's always been his, whether I wanted to admit it or not. I've fought him for so long, but standing here, in the middle of this secluded clearing where he buries his grief, I realize that fighting him is fighting myself.

I bite my lip, my heart pounding in my chest. "Okay," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the soft rustle of leaves. "Yes."

His smile is pure satisfaction, his wicked gleam returning as his lips crash into mine again, claiming me in a way that sends heat surging through my entire body. He grips me tighter, pressing me closer until it feels like we're one person. My back hits the rough bark of a nearby tree, and I gasp, but the sensation only fuels the fire building between us.

"Say it again," he demands, his lips brushing against my neck. "Tell me you're mine."

I tilt my head back, giving him more access as his teeth graze my skin. "I'm yours, Nik," I breathe, the words slipping out like a confession. "Always yours. "

His hands slide under my shirt, his touch searing against my skin, and I arch into him, craving more. There's a frantic urgency between us, as if we're making up for every second we've been apart. His mouth finds mine again, and I moan against his lips, the sound swallowed by the kiss.

"Nik," I manage between kisses, my voice trembling, "I love you."

He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, his expression softening for a moment. "I love you too, Kotik. There isn't a single atom in me that is not obsessed with you."

My lips are back on his in a heartbeat, and for the first time in my life, I feel like even if I could run, I wouldn't want to because this is the man I love. The man I've always loved.

And now, he's mine.