I’m in the middle of a meeting when my secretary steps into the room, and that familiar sense of irritation rises in me. I’ve learned to tolerate these interruptions, but only if there’s a damn good reason.


    “I’m so sorry, but I need a minute, sir,” she says, an ufortable expression on her face, as if she’s trying to conceal something.


    “Excuse me, gentlemen.”


    Getting to my feet, I step out of the boardroom and into the hallway, locking the door behind me.


    “What is it?” I try to keep my tone even but fail, frustration snapping through me.


    This meeting is important, and I’m this close to getting them to see my way.


    She hesitates, her eyes darting briefly to the door before she finally speaks. “It’s about your wife…”


    “What do you mean? Speak!”


    She fidgets nervously. “Uh, her security detail…they’ve been trying to reach you. They say it’s urgent.”


    As soon as she says that, my vision blurs, my mind spiraling with all the things that could’ve happened. If someone did something to her, the entire goddamn world will go up in mes.


    “Tell them the meeting is cancelled. Reschedule it forter.”


    I don’t wait for her to respond. My feet are already moving while my mind’s racing.


    As soon as I’m in my SUV, I turn on the car and press on the gas, looking through the missed calls and texts as I speed through traffic.


    Maksim


    SOS. Come home.


    Dmitri


    Gde, chert voz’mi, ty?


    Where the hell are you?


    I voice a reply.


    Konstantin


    Chto sluchilos?


    What happened?


    When he doesn’t respond, I call Dmitri, but he doesn’t answer. My pulse spikes, adrenaline wing at me. I try again, and still no answer.


    The world around me starts to melt away, the engine roaring beneath me as I speed down the street.


    If she’d been taken, they would have told me. This is something else.


    I call her number, and it rings. And rings. Frustration burns through me, and I m my fist into the wheel, the anger building.


    I quickly dial the cleaning staff. When the voice on the other end answers, it’s calm, but there’s a subtle edge of worry beneath the words.


    “Sir?” Flora says, and I sense that immediate fear in her tone.


    “Is my wife okay?” Every syble cuts through the air, my mind racing, desperate for answers. She needs to be okay.


    “Um, I don’t know much, sir. Only that she came home upset, and she rushed upstairs. But when she was there for a while, Maksim tried to get her toe out, but she wouldn’t.”


    Blood pumps faster through my veins. Something is definitely wrong. Maybe her therapy session didn’t go well.


    “I’ll be home soon.” Dropping the call, I punch the gas and drive faster.


    Every second, every heartbeat, feels like a lifetime. My hands grip the wheel until my knuckles turn white, and terror unlike anything I’ve ever known takes hold.


    When I finally pull into the driveway, I don’t even take the time to park properly. Flinging open the car door, I rush toward the house and enter as one of my men lets me in. I practically sprint up the stairs to find Maksim and Dmitri standing in front of the bathroom door in the hall.


    “Chto proiskhodit?” I ask while I fight to suppress the pure panic in my chest. What’s happening?


    Dmitri’s jaw clenches. “She came from the therapist’s office upset, said she wanted to go home. When we got here, she ran upstairs and locked herself in the bathroom. We got worried when it was too long.”


    It’s as if the air in the room has been sucked out, my lungs tight and burning with every breath. I don’t even want to acknowledge the dark thoughts creeping in.


    “Tessa,” I call, my voice softer than I feel as I knock gently on the door. “Tessa, open the door. It’s me, Konstantin.”


    No answer.


    A sickening coil twists in my gut. A deep, dreadful feeling that something is horribly wrong.


    Without hesitation, I m my shoulder into the door, the wood cracking under the force before splintering open. And what I see before me knocks the breath out of me.


    Tessa lies on the floor, unconscious, blood pooled around her, a razor resting dangerously close to her thigh.


    “No! Tessa! No!” I roar, dropping to my knees beside her, frantically searching for a pulse.


    There’s nothing.


    “BLYAT!”


    My heart stops.


    This can’t be happening. I won’t let it end like this.


    But then I feel it: a faint pulse. Too weak, too fragile.


    Panic surges through me. She can’t die.


    I won’t let her die.


    I tear my shirt off, tying it around the gashes on her arm, before I cradle her against my chest, yelling for Maksim and Dmitri to call my doctor to get everything ready for an emergency while I rush back out to the SUV.


    “Tessa, please,” I whisper, my voice hoarse as I pull her close, securing her in the back with me, Maksim focused at the wheel. “You have to be okay. You have to live, moya l’vitsa. I won’t let you leave me.”


    My lips brush her forehead, a shudder of pure agony ripping through me as my heart explodes. My fingers trace her cheek, as if touching her is the only thing keeping me tethered to this world.


    If she dies, I die with her. There is no future without her. Not anymore.<hr>


    EMILIA


    I wake up groggy, my head heavy and my thoughts muddled. The soft beeping of a machine beside me tugs at my awareness, but the warmth in my hand is what draws me fully back to consciousness. My fingers twitch instinctively, curling into theforting pressure, and my eyes shift open slowly.


    Konstantin.


    His eyes lock on to mine the moment they meet. The relief that washes over his face is unmistakable, and it catches me off guard, knotting something in my chest.


    For a moment, all I can do is stare at him, absorbing the worry and tenderness in his gaze.


    “Where are we?” I ask, the words rough as I try to adjust to the unfamiliarity of my surroundings.


    “Private hospital. One of mine.” He takes my hand with utter gentleness. “Are you in pain? I can get you more medication.”


    I shake my head, my throat tightening as a sharp ache sinks deeper. But as I look down at my bandaged upper arm, it hits like a sh of lightning tearing through me.


    I did this.


    I hurt myself again.


    The memories flood in. Gerardo’s betrayal, the lies, everything falling apart around me.


    I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight. The world felt like it was closing in, and for a moment, I needed to escape it. I needed control over something, anything, when everything else felt uncontroble.


    After the session, I tried to ignore the darkness creeping in, but the pain of it all became too much to carry. My chest was tight with anger, sadness, fear. It was all wing at my insides, fighting for space. My mind raced, caught in the chaos of too many emotions to make sense of. And in that moment, cutting felt like the only way to stop drowning in the flood of it all.


    Some people wonder why. Why would someone hurt themselves?


    But it’s like the physical pain overshadows the emotional, like a way to center yourself when you’re too overwhelmed to find a way out.


    I wasn’t thinking clearly, and it felt like the only way to breathe again. To make the pain in my heart match the one I could control in my body.


    My eyes flutter shut as shame surges through me, leaving only the raw truth behind.


    I undid years of progress in one single moment.


    I stop the tears before they can fall, refusing to let them break through. I won’t cry. But everything hurts. After all the effort it took to stop doing that to myself, I’ve fallen off a cliff, and now I have to climb all the way back up.


    “I’m so sorry.” His tone is thick with regret, a painful, vulnerable sound that breaks something inside me. His thumb traces the back of my hand. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have had any razors in the house.” He buries his face in our joined hands.


    “No, baby. Look at me.” My heart constricts in my chest as I pull his knuckles to my lips, pressing a soft kiss to them, holding his gaze as I do. “This is on me. Only me. I did that. And honestly, in the state I was in, I would’ve found something else to do it with.”


    “Why did you?” The agony in his voice hits me harder than anything.


    My mouth trembles as I try to hold back the overwhelming shame. It’s hard to exin, harder to even face it.


    “I couldn’t handle what I learned during therapy.” Myshes flutter to a close. “I’m a failure.” The words feel like acid in my throat.


    “No. Don’t you ever call yourself that,” he snaps, a protective growl that catches me off guard, cutting through the fog in my mind.


    His hands cup my face, forcing me to meet his gaze, and the look in his eyes—so full of affection—makes my heart ache.


    “It’s okay, malyshka. It’s okay.”


    He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my forehead, tender, yet charged with an intensity that cracks something inside me wide open.


    “I’ll never leave you,” he vows. “I’ll always be here.”


    Those words wrap around me like a lifeline, grounding me when I feel like I’m drowning.


    I want to run with him. Take him and disappear back to France, back to when things were simpler. But I know I can’t. This is my reality now, and I have to face it, no matter how unbearable it feels.


    Gerardo was never a father to Nate or me. He was a liar, a murderer, a conman, and I fell for it all like a fucking fool. He probably thought I was pathetic for believing he was ever really there to help us.


    That’s why I did what I did. That’s why I snapped. I couldn’t face it. Couldn’t face the truth of everything I had ever known about him and what it meant for me. What it meant for Nate.


    “Please don’t lock me up here,” I whisper, panic creeping in. “It’ll only make it worse. Please, I just need to go home.”


    If he forces me to stay, I won’t survive it.


    He hesitates, his hand tightening around mine. “I don’t know if you’re ready for that yet.”


    “I am,” I say quickly, sitting up despite the heaviness in my body. “I’ll go back to my regr therapist. I’ll do whatever I have to do, Konstantin. I don’t want to hurt myself, I swear. I’m done with that. This was just…a mistake. Please…” The back of my throat throbs.


    “Do you know how hard it is for me to tell you no?”


    My stomach turns to knots as the silence stretches.


    “Okay,” he says after a long pause. “You cane home. But…”


    There’s a hesitation, a moment of distress in his expression.


    “But what?” My pulse hammers, already dreading what’sing next.


    His fingers tighten around mine. “If I find out you’re not going to your appointments, or if it doesn’t help, I will admit you. You won’t get the choice then. Because it’s my job to protect you. Even from yourself.”


    I nod quickly, desperation and determination flooding through me.


    “I’ll do whatever it takes. I swear.” My voice cracks. “I’ve been through this before. I stopped when I was seventeen. And believe me, no one feels worse than me right now. But I’ll do the work. I can do this again.”


    “Yes, you will.” He brings my knuckles to his lips. “You are strong. Moya l’vitsa.” He leans in and presses another kiss to my forehead, this one somehow filled with more meaning. “You don’t ever have to go through this alone. You have me.”


    I can’t stop the tears from tumbling down my cheeks, and I lean into him, feeling the serenity of his embrace as his big strong arms hold me steady.


    “This was just a slip,” I tell him. “A bad one. And I know it went too far, but I swear I wasn’t trying to die, okay?”


    His jaw tightens as he pushes back, a muscle in his face twitching as if the words are physically painful for him to hear. “I hope not. Because if you die, I die. You understand?”


    Emotions pound behind my eyes.


    “Seeing you like this…” He chokes up. “It kills me. Do you know that? Watching you suffer, it’s killing me.”


    I can’t speak for a moment, the words stuck in my throat, the weight of everything pressing down on me. The guilt, the fear, the regret. But what’s left in me is the truth.


    “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do this to you.”


    He holds my chin between two fingers, his gaze warm and protective. “We’ll get through this. Together.”


    “Thank you.”


    He shakes his head. “Don’t ever thank me for being who I’m supposed to be. Your husband.” Tugging my face to his chest, he holds me closer, silent for a beat before he asks, “What did you find out during therapy?”


    I can’t tell him the whole truth, not yet. Not until I’m ready to tell him everything. So I choose my words carefully.


    “A man I grew up thinking was like a father to me was nothing but a liar, and now I have to live with that.”


    His eyes narrow. “I understand. Betrayal is a heavy burden to carry. But you’re not alone anymore. If I can do anything to help, anything at all, you just have to say the word.” His mouth curves into a deadly smirk. “You can even choose the method of helpfulness I employ.”


    A smallugh escapes. “No. Please don’t do anything murdery. Not yet, anyway…”


    He lets out a low chuckle, the sound infectious. “It’s very difficult for me not to do murdery things when ites to you, lubov moya.”


    My chest tightens.


    “You’re a good man, Konstantin Marinov.” I cup his face, his stubble grating over my palm.


    He arches a brow, a ghost of a smile ying at his lips. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard that before.”


    Iugh, shaking my head. “There’s a first time for everything.”


    This man—this brutal, crazy, infuriating, but sweet man—has shown me so much in this short time, and I wish we hadn’t met the way we did. I wish everything was different, and I’m terrified that once he learns the truth, he won’t want me the way he does now.


    “In thest few days…” I say, my gaze fixed on him. “I’ve realized you’ve always shown me exactly who you are. And I just want you to know how much I truly appreciate that.”


    He pulls me close, his lips ghosting over mine. “You do know when I get you back home, I won’t be able to take my eyes off you, right?”


    “That’s okay.” My grin grows as I kiss him softly. “I like it when your eyes are on me.”


    He groans, his mouth crashing into mine with more intensity before he pulls me back against his chest. As I snuggle closer, the steady rhythm of his heart fills my ear, each beat a reminder of how much I need him more than ever.


    And deep down, I hope I don’t lose him for good.