Chapter Twenty-Nine
The drive to the penthouse is the longest fifteen minutes of my life.
The city blurs past the tinted windows of the SUV—gray buildings, dark alleys, the usual neon chaos of Manhattan that now feels like a distant, irrelevant dream. My entire world has narrowed down to the man sitting across from me.
Ayaan.
He’s wearing a tactical vest that looks too large for his frame, his face smeared with dirt and soot. He hasn’t stopped looking at me since we got in the car. His eyes are guarded, weary, but alive. So incredibly alive.
I’m gripping Nikita’s hand so hard my knuckles are white. He hasn’t tried to pull away. If anything, his grip has tightened, his thumb tracing soothing circles over my knuckles. He’s my anchor, the solid ground beneath my feet while the rest of the world spins off its axis.
“We’re here,” Yuri says from the driver’s seat.
We get out. The night air is cool, smelling of damp brick and grass. Ayaan moves first, scanning the perimeter with the practiced ease of a soldier. He’s different. The boy who left my apartment two years ago is gone. In his place is this man—harder, colder, sharper.
When he looks at me, the hardness melts.
“Freya,” he says.
My name breaks the dam. I pull him in for another hug, face buried in his chest.
Then I pull back to look at him, really look at him. There are scars on his arms that weren’t there before. A jagged line on his jaw. His eyes have seen things I can’t even imagine.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you too, Sis.”
He hugs me again, burying his face in my hair. I hold on tight, afraid that if I let go, he’ll vanish like smoke.
A hand settles on my lower back.
I pull away from Ayaan slightly, turning to look at Nikita.
He’s standing a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, watching us. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes… his eyes are burning. There’s a possessiveness there that makes my knees weak, a fierce, primal claim that he’s barely holding back.
He’s the reason Ayaan is standing here. He’s the reason I’m alive.
“Thank you,” I say softly.
He doesn’t smile. He just steps closer, invading my space. He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me flush against his side. It’s a public declaration, a marking of territory.
Ayaan looks at Nikita, and something unspoken passes between them. A nod. A salute.
“Let’s get inside,” Nikita says. “We’re exposed here.”
The penthouse is exactly how I remember it. Someone has cleaned up the bodies and the blood, and it looks for all the world like nothing happened.
Ayaan collapses onto the couch, wincing as he moves.
“You’re hurt,” I say immediately.
“Just a graze,” he dismisses. “Nothing serious.”
“Let me see.”
“I said it’s fine.”
He looks at Nikita. “Do you have a drink?”
Nikita walks to the kitchen, returning with a bottle of expensive whiskey. He pours, sliding one across the counter to Ayaan, one to me, and keeping one for himself.
“To survival,” Ayaan says, raising his glass.
“To survival,” Nikita echoes.
The silence that follows is heavy, filled with the ghosts of the last two years. I look at my brother, then at my husband.
They’re two sides of the same coin. The light and the dark. The protector and the destroyer. Both willing to burn the world to keep me safe.
It’s overwhelming.
I set my glass down on the counter. “I need some air.”
“The balcony is unlocked.”
I nod, walking to the window. I push it open and step out onto the rusted metal landing. The city is spread out below me, a sea of lights. I take a deep breath, the cool air filling my lungs.
I hear the door slide open behind me.
“Are you okay?”
It’s Ayaan.
I lean back against the railing, looking at him. “I don’t know.”
“I’m sorry,” he says again. “For everything.”
“I know.”
“I did it to protect you.”
“I know that too.”
He steps closer, leaning against the railing next to me. “He loves you, you know.”
I glance at him, startled. “He owns me, Ayaan. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?” He nudges my shoulder with his. “I saw the way he looked at you in the warehouse. I saw the way he moved to shield you. He wasn’t just protecting an asset. He was protecting the woman he loves.”
“He never said it.”
“He doesn’t have to. It’s written all over his face whenever you walk into the room.”
I think about the way Nikita held me in the shower. The way he looked at me when he thought I was sleeping. The way he risked everything to save me.
“He’s dangerous,” I whisper.
“So am I,” Ayaan says softly. “That doesn’t mean we’re incapable of love.”
He wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a side hug. It’s a familiar gesture, something he’s done a thousand times. It feels different now. He’s harder, his muscles tenser.
“Just be careful, Freya,” he says. “This life… it chews people up. I don’t want to see that happen to you.”
“I’m already chewed up,” I say.
“Then maybe it’s time you started healing.”
He kisses the top of my head, then turns and goes back inside.
I stay out there for a while longer, letting the wind mess up my hair. I think about the past, about the lies and the secrets. I think about the future, about the war that is still raging.
Nikita is standing by the window when I go back inside, looking out at the night. He’s alone. Ayaan must be in the bathroom.
I walk up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I rest my forehead against his back, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He turns around in my arms, facing me. He looks tired, the lines around his mouth deeper than usual. His eyes are clear.
“I was scared,” I admit. “When I saw him… when I thought he was dead… I thought my heart would stop.”
He doesn’t say a word, only presses a kiss to the same spot Ayaan did earlier.
“I love you,” I whisper.
He freezes. He lifts his head, looking down at me. His eyes are wide, searching my face.
“I love you,” I say again, my voice stronger this time. “You don’t have to say it back.
He stares at me for a long time. Then, a slow smile spreads across his face. It’s a genuine smile, reaching his eyes.
“I love you too,” he says. “I have since the moment I saw you at that gala.” He leans down, kissing me softly. “You’re my heart, Freya. My soul.”