61. Viviana

He didn't choose me.

You should never give an ultimatum you're not ready to suffer the consequences of. I know that. But I never really thought Mikhail would walk away.

Even when he locked me in this room and I slid to the floor, too weak to stand, I didn't really believe it.

In my mind, there is no future where Mikhail and I aren't together. I'm not sure what a life without him even looks like now. I can't go back to lonely apartments and fake names. But I have no idea what else there is.

I'm staring into the dark of my bedroom, contemplating what lies ahead for me and my children, when the knob above my head twists.

I don't have time to think about who it is or what they want with me. I only have time to crawl just clear of the door before it swings open so hard it bounces off the wall.

I'm on my back, staring up at the looming silhouette of…

"Mikhail?"

He came back for me, I think before I can stop myself. He changed his mind.

I bury the thought deep down. I survived him walking away from me once—if sitting on the floor in a dissociative state can be considered "surviving." I don't know if I can do it again.

Mikhail is squinting into the room, scanning far above my head like he's looking for me. But at the sound of my voice, his eyes snap down to where I'm huddled on the floor.

He sinks to his knees in front of me. He smells like cold air and frost. His fingers are freezing when he curls them around my face, tilting my chin. "Are you okay?"

"I'm—" My mouth hangs open uselessly. What am I? After everything that has happened today, I'm hollowed out. I'm exhausted and heartbroken and terrified of the future. I try to say something—anything—but the word lodges in my throat. A sob escapes instead.

Mikhail curses under his breath and picks me up. He cradles me in his arms, and I want to hate it. I want to hate him. It would make things a lot easier.

"Where are you taking me now?" I ask. "A cell?"

"I'm taking you to our room." He carries me through the door. Just like he said, he walks down the hall towards his room. Our room. "I shouldn't have locked you in there in the first place."

His arms tighten around me and I commit every detail of it to memory. The solid wall of his chest. The way his arms flex around my body, effortlessly strong. The way his warm breath whispers against my cheek.

I don't know how long any of this will be mine, and I don't want to forget it. Because if Mikhail can't give the Bratva up, I really will leave. I have to.

No matter how much I want to stay.

The room is dark and he doesn't bother with a light. "You need to rest. That's what Dr. Rossi said after your appointment."

"Stop being so nice," I whisper, even as I lean against his chest. "It only makes things harder. If you're just going to leave?—"

"I'm not going anywhere." There's a hard edge to his voice, but I don't think it's directed at me.

He lowers me into our bed and starts to turn away. To grab the blankets, I think. Like I could possibly want to sleep right now. I grab his wrist and hold onto him like my life depends on it. Right now, it feels like it does.

"What does that mean, Mikhail?"

He turns his hand in mine until he's cradling my fingers and brings them to his lips for a kiss. "It means I'm sorry, Viviana."

My heart is pounding as I ask, "For what?"

"For walking away from you." His blue eyes pierce through the darkness. The mask I'm used to is gone now. The Mikhail in front of me is the one I know—the one I fell in love with. "I'm sorry for hesitating for even one fucking second when the choice has always been clear."

He kisses my knuckles again. Then his mouth moves to my wrist. My forearm. He tastes my skin like he's starving, making his way to my neck. His stubble scrapes against my jaw and I tilt my head to give him better access.

"What are you saying?" I breathe.

I genuinely need him to explain himself because, with the way he's touching me, my thoughts are fuzzy. This is the way it's been since that very first night. My body comes alive when Mikhail is close to me, but my brain shuts down.

I gather my wits enough to grab his shoulders and push him back.

Mikhail backs away, but his eyes are glazed over and black. I can tell he doesn't want to move away from me.

"What are you saying?" I repeat, shaking my head to rearrange my muddled thoughts. "I gave you a choice, Mikhail. I told you to choose, and you?—"

"I choose you." He kneels between my legs and grabs my hands. His thumbs stroke over my skin like he has to remind himself I'm still here. Like today reminded him, the same way it did me, how fragile everything is. "I choose you every single time."

My heart pulses at the base of my throat, but I swallow it down and hold myself still. "I know you love me."

"Entirely," he agrees, licking his lips.

Heat stirs low in my belly, but I ignore it. We've always had this part figured out. It's everything that happens outside of the bedroom that we've had trouble with.

"I know you love me. You know I love you," I add. "But that isn't enough. Unless you're willing to walk away from the Bratva and everything your family has built, we can't be together, Mikhail. I can't keep doing this if?—"

"I'm willing." He falls forward, catching himself on his hands, which are on either side of my body. He crawls over me until I'm forced back against my pillow. His voice pitches low. "Eager, too."

His erection brushes high on my thigh. I chew on my lower lip. "I'm serious, Mikhail."

"So am I." He crawls another few inches closer until all I see when I look up is his face. The strong, square edge of his jaw and the bright blue of his eyes. "The only reason I'm doing any of this is for you and Dante. But if you want me to give it up, then I will."

"I don't want you to do this because I want you to. I want you to want it."

I feel ridiculous arguing with him. He's giving you what you want, you dummy. Shut up and take it! But if he's doing this for the wrong reasons, it will all backfire later. I don't want a few months of bliss to go up in spectacularly devastating flames when Mikhail realizes he isn't happy.

"Do you want to know what I want?" he whispers. He drops his mouth to my neck. Goosebumps flare everywhere his lips touch.

I swallow. "Tell me."

"I want to wake up next to my wife every morning." He kisses the skin beneath my ear. "Every night, I want to fall asleep next to you, wrapped around you… buried inside of you."

My body throbs as if in agreement with that plan.

He scrapes his teeth over my jawline and then soothes away the ache with his tongue. "I want to raise babies with you, Viviana. I want to go to the park on a sunny day and watch our kids play. I want to hold your hand while I drive instead of keeping both hands on the wheel in case we're attacked. And—" He groans, deep in his chest. "I want to be there to climb into the tub with you and ruin every single bath you ever try to take."

I laugh in surprise. "Hey!"

"Don't worry," he shushes me, biting back a smile. "I'll make sure you enjoy it."

My heart is so light it feels like a balloon in my chest. Like we could both float out of this bed, flying over the mess our lives have become in the last few weeks.

"That's a pretty picture," I say, a tinge of sadness creeping into my voice. "But there are a lot of people who would work hard to make sure that doesn't happen."

"Which is why I need you to give me some time." He strokes a finger under my chin. "I have a plan, but I need time to set it in motion. I need you to be patient with me. Can you do that?"

The last few weeks felt impossible because there was no end. I kept straining for some light at the end of the tunnel, but it was all darkness.

Now, Mikhail is giving me a timeline. He's promising me that this will end and our lives will start.

I couldn't muddy through the dark forever, but how long would I wait if I could be sure Mikhail would be on the other side?

"I've been nothing but patient for six years, Mikhail." I press my palm to his chest. I can feel his heart thudding against his ribcage like he isn't entirely sure what my answer is going to be. As if I ever had another choice. My mouth tips into a smirk. "I'll wait forever, as long as I know you'll be there at the end."

Mikhail's eyes flare. Then he falls over me.

The distance between us dissolves. His hands slide under my shirt, cupping my breasts and kneading my nipples until they're in hard, desperate points. His erection nestles between my legs. I press my legs together and roll my body, stroking him with my thighs.

"Fuck," he moans, dropping his forehead against mine. "If you want me to be patient, you better slow down."

I squeeze my thighs together again. His eyes flutter closed. "I don't want to slow down."

He circles his mouth over my breasts, sucking on my nipple through the thin material of my shirt. "But I want to take my time with you."

"We have a whole lifetime for going slow." I slide my hand between us and slip under his waistband. He's warm and hard against my palm. When I give him a rough stroke, he jerks, pumping into my fingers like he can't help himself. "Right now, I want you inside of me."

Mikhail growls deep in his chest. He shoves his pants down and slips my loose pajama shorts to the side. He hesitates for a brief second when he first parts me, when he dips into my wetness and groans at how ready I am for him.

Then he pushes into me with one smooth, continual thrust.

My back bows. I gasp and arch off the bed until I'm barely lying down at all. Mikhail bands an arm around my lower back and holds me in the air. He balances me against him, letting me adjust to the way he fills me.

With a kiss to the underside of my breast, he slides away and drives back in.

We writhe and move with each other. Mikhail leads, gripping my hips and driving into me. Then he rolls over, spinning me so I'm sitting on top of him, straddling his hips.

He keeps his hands spread across my thighs so he can control my pace even when I'm riding him.

I press him back into the mattress and kiss the hard ridges of his abs, the broad sweep of his chest. I circle my hips and work myself onto his length again and again. When we hit a new angle, I gasp. Mikhail pumps into me until I'm putty in his hands. Until I collapse against his chest and scream against his feverish skin.

I clench and spasm and Mikhail holds himself deep inside of me, groaning as I fall apart on his cock. As soon as I go limp, he wraps an arm around my waist and rolls us over.

"I want this," he growls, slamming into me. "I've wanted this from the first time I ever saw you, Viviana."

I'm still coming down from the first orgasm, but Mikhail is taking me there again. His words and his body and the perfect way we have always fit together are destroying me from the inside out.

"Mikhail…" I curl my fingers through his hair, tugging on the roots.

He silences me with a kiss, swirling his tongue against mine. I realize with a startled laugh that it's the first time we've kissed. Only Mikhail could drive me out of my mind without any physical foreplay whatsoever.

Just the nearness of him—the way he talks to me and how much I want him—are enough. I'm always ready for him.

I will always choose him.

"Come inside of me," I pant. "Fill me up, Mikhail. Fuck me like you love me, please."

His movements stutter for only a second. Then he roars. He empties himself into me until he collapses.

I wrap my arms around him, more than happy to be crushed under his weight.

We fall asleep like that, with him still inside of me. Just the way he wanted.