“You can find other things to live for.”

I scoff. “No, I can’t.”

“You can. Circumstances shape you, but they don’t dictate your fate.” His voice lowers with a soothing undertone. “You do.”

I shake my head again as a single hot tear slides down my cheek. “It’s over.”

“Not if you have a say in it. Whether it’s ballet or anything else, you can always rewrite your own story.” He reaches a hand out, the corners of his eyes softening for the first time since I’ve met him. “I’ll help you.”

“Why would you?” I’m crying now, and even the freezing air is unable to make the tears less hot and stinging.

“Because I want to.”

“I will not be your mistress, Adrian. Never.”

“You won’t be.”

“But you have a fiancée.”

“Not anymore.”

My lips part. “W-what?”

“I got rid of her.” He takes a step forward. “Now, come down.”

I stare at his hand, at the promise he’s offering and what he did. I said I didn’t want to be his mistress and he listened.

He got rid of her.

Adrian, of all people, has managed to pull me out of my numb state and provoke my tears.

My full-blown grief.

My hand trembles as I place it in his. As soon as our skin touches, he pulls me down, wrapping both arms around my waist and holding me up so I’m not putting any weight on my legs.

I burrow my face against his shirt through the small opening in his coat. A wracking sob mounts, catching in my throat before it bleeds out of my insides.

For a moment, we stand like that as I cry into his chest, my voice turning hoarse and my head pounding. Through it all, Adrian holds me in his strong arms, stroking soothing circles on my back and being the silent anchor I didn’t realize I needed.

“It hurts…” My voice breaks.

“I’ll call the doctor.”

“Not that pain.” I slam a closed fist against my chest. “Here. It hurts so much, I feel like I’m being cut open by a thousand knives.”

Adrian wraps a hand around the back of my head, caressing my hair. “It might feel like you can’t take it, like it would be better to die, but that’s not true. It’ll heal, maybe not right away or in the near future, and it might not heal completely, but the wound will close and you will look back on this day as the moment you changed.”

“But I’ll be scarred for life,” I sob, hitting my chest again. “Right here.”

“Scars mean you are alive and strong enough to survive.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’ll worship each of your scars until you’re able to face them, Lenochka.”

I lift my eyes to stare at him through my blurry vision. “Why would you?”

There’s a softness in his gaze, the closest thing I’ve seen to affection in them. “I told you. Because I want to.”

“What if you stop wanting to?”

“That won’t happen. You have my word.”

I don’t know if it’s because of my desperation or the rare tenderness on his face, but in this moment, I believe Adrian.

I believe that this man, this killer, is my only hope to repair my life.

Or what remains of it.

23

Adrian

Lia is fast asleep after the nurse injected her with tranquilizers.

Her frail hand is weightless in mine, almost like it barely exists.

Tears still cling to her long lashes that are fluttering against her pale cheeks. Even though she’s sleeping, her lips remain twisted and her brow is furrowed in discomfort.

I reach out and smooth the crumpled space on her forehead with my thumb. Here’s to hoping she doesn’t have nightmares tonight, though that’s completely wishful thinking.

Since my youth, I’ve learned to stop wishing for things, because they won’t come true. I grew up and made things happen on my own. So knowing that, how come I find myself wishing for a different outcome for Lia’s career?

Yan called me as soon as she broke her leg and was transported to the hospital. But I was in a meeting with Igor and Sergei and couldn’t answer. My Pakhan and my former potential father-in-law are displeased with me for ending my engagement with Kristina so abruptly and without a convincing reason.

Everyone in the brotherhood knows I don’t make a move unless I’ve studied its impact on generations to come. Ending the engagement wasn’t a ‘me thing’ to do, considering that Kristina is the most logical choice for my wife.

However, it seems I’m sacrificing that part of me—the methodical, logical one—more often than not since Lia came into the picture. I do have a plan, though. One that will give Sergei and Igor the reason they need, and, at the same time, give me Lia.

That plan also includes Lazlo Luciano. After the close surveillance I put on him, I have a good handle on his life and his goals. He regards most of the New York Italian families as his enemies, especially the Rozettis since he has a lifelong grudge against them. They feel the same for him because he’s made it his mission to wipe them off the face of the earth.

The grudge can be used to my advantage. It’s my perfect opportunity to get in Lazlo’s good graces without raising his suspicions.

Due to the sensitive nature of my plan, where every detail needs to be in its rightful place, I had to listen to Sergei’s and Igor’s grumbling all afternoon. That’s why I couldn’t answer Yan’s calls.

As soon as I finished, I found out about Lia’s accident and came here. If I’d gotten here even a second later, I would’ve come to collect her corpse.

I slowly close my eyes, my grip tightening on her hand before I release it and let it rest on the bed. The thought of losing her brings an ache I thought I’d never feel again after Aunt Annika’s death.

I will make sure Lia’s fate is different from my stepmother’s.

Her career is probably finished for good, though. I spoke to her attending physician and he mentioned that the nature of her fracture is impossible to recover from in the professional sense.

Which brings me to the reason behind her accident.

I stand up and brush a kiss on Lia’s forehead before I turn for the door. After her suicide attempt, I’d rather not leave her side. However, my next course of action needs to happen, if not for anything else, then for her beloved justice.