Chapter 15 #2
The sound is involuntary, desperate, pulled from somewhere deep inside me. Her touch is everything I've been craving, soft and gentle and real. Proof that she's here, alive, safe. That I didn't lose her tonight.
"Are you okay?" she whispers, her fingers continuing their gentle exploration of my hair.
"No."
"What's wrong?"
"I almost lost you tonight." My arms tighten around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. "When that man grabbed you, when I saw his hands on you, saw the fear in your eyes. I've never been that scared in my life. Not in prison. Not ever."
Her fingers keep stroking through my hair, slow and soothing. "You saved me."
"Barely."
"You saved me," she repeats, her voice firm now. "You got me out of that dining room. You killed three men to keep me safe. You got me to the safe room. You kept me alive, Axel."
"This time. What about next time? What about when I'm not there to protect you?"
"Axel…"
"I can't lose you." The confession spills out, raw and true. "I can't lose you or the baby. The thought of it makes me insane. Makes me want to lock you in that safe room and never let you out."
She's quiet for a long moment, her hand never stopping its gentle movement through my hair. Then: "We're okay. We're both okay. We're here, we're safe, and that's what matters."
But are we safe? With the Volkovs testing our defenses, with Leo spiraling further into drunken rage, with Luca asking questions I can't answer?
I press my face harder into her stomach, breathing in her scent. Feel her warmth, her reality, the solid proof that she's alive and here.
"Stay," I whisper against her skin. "Just a little longer."
"Okay," she breathes.
We stay like that for minutes that feel like hours and seconds at the same time.
Her standing between my legs, me sitting with my arms wrapped around her waist and my face pressed into her body like I'm trying to memorize the feel of her.
Her fingers in my hair, gentle and soothing, giving me something I didn't know I needed.
It's the most peace I've felt in weeks. Maybe months.
Finally, reluctantly, she steps back. My arms fall away, suddenly empty.
"I… I’m going to go now," she says, but she doesn't move yet.
"Okay..."
But neither of us moves toward the door. We just stand there, looking at each other, drowning in everything we can't say.
"Thank you," she says finally, her voice soft. "For tonight. For protecting me. For-for this."
"Always."
The word is a promise I have no right to make.
She leaves, slipping out the door like a ghost. The room feels emptier without her, colder, like she took all the warmth with her.
I lie back on the bed, stare at the ceiling, and try to figure out how to keep her safe while the world falls apart around us.
The next morning, I'm up at dawn. Couldn't sleep anyway, my mind too full of bullets and blood and Aurora's fingers in my hair.
I find Viktor in the security office, already reviewing overnight footage with bleary eyes and a coffee cup that's probably his third.
"I want additional guards on Aurora," I say without preamble. "Discreet. She shouldn't notice them, but I want her covered at all times."
Viktor raises an eyebrow, not bothering to hide his skepticism. "Boss, Luca's already got security on her. His best men."
"Then add ours. I want our people watching her. People I trust absolutely, people who answer to me."
"You're being irrational about this."
"I don't care."
He studies me with the careful gaze of someone who's known me too long. "You care about her."
I don't deny it. Can't deny it. Not to Viktor, who's seen me at my worst and stayed anyway.
"Yeah," I say quietly. "I do."
"That's going to be a problem."
"I know."
"A big problem that could destroy everything you've built."
"I KNOW." The words come out harsher than I intended.
He sighs, long and weary. "Alright. I'll assign Sergei and two others. Rotating shifts around the clock. She won't notice them—I'll make sure of it."
"Good. Thank you."
I leave before he can lecture me about the danger of this obsession, about how caring this much makes me vulnerable.
Later that afternoon, Luca finds me in the hallway outside his office. I'm reviewing building security upgrades on my phone, trying to find every possible weakness before the Volkovs try again.
"I noticed you increased security around Aurora," he says, casual but with an undercurrent I can't quite read.
Fuck. Of course he noticed. He notices everything.
"Just being cautious after last night," I say, keeping my voice neutral. "Can't be too careful."
"I appreciate it." He claps my shoulder, the gesture warm and brotherly. "You're a good friend, Axel. Taking care of my daughter like this, keeping her safe when I can't be everywhere at once."
The words feel like a betrayal, like knives in my back that I deserve.
I'm not a good friend.
"She's important," I manage, the words sticking in my throat.
"She is." He smiles, genuine and warm. "Thank you for protecting her."
I have no response to that. Nothing that wouldn't be a lie.
That night, I find Leo in the sitting room, sprawled on the leather couch. Empty bottles surround him like fallen soldiers—whiskey, vodka, wine. He's been drinking steadily since the attack, maybe before.
"You need to stop," I say from the doorway.
He laughs, the sound bitter and slurred. "Stop what? Drinking? Existing? Wanting what's mine?"
"Aurora's not yours."
"Isn't she?" He stands, stumbles, catches himself on the couch arm. "You gave her to me. Arranged the whole fucking thing. Drew up the contracts. Announced it to everyone. Now you want to take her back?"
"I'm not taking her back. I'm protecting her from you."
"Sure. Sure, that's what this is." He staggers closer, whiskey-breath hot on my face. "Not that you want her. Not that you're obsessed with her. Not that you can't stop staring at her every time she walks in a room. Just protection."
"Leo—"
"I see the way you look at her, Dad. Everyone does." His eyes are bloodshot, wild, unfocused. "The way you watch her at dinner. The way you defended her when I made a joke. The way you went fucking berserk when that Volkov grabbed her last night."
"Anyone would have—"
"No. Not anyone. You." He jabs a finger at my chest, nearly losing his balance. "You specifically. Because you want my fiancée. Just fucking admit it."
"You're drunk. Go to bed."
"I'm right though, aren't I?" He's laughing now, high and unstable. "You want her, but you can't have her. Because she's mine. My engagement. My future wife. My—"
I grab his collar in both hands, slam him back against the wall hard enough to rattle the pictures hanging there. "She will never be yours. Do you understand me? Never."
"Why?" He's still grinning, even pressed against the wall. "Because you want her for yourself?"
I release him, step back before I do something I'll regret.
"This conversation is over. Go sleep it off."
"No, it's not over. It's just beginning." He straightens his shirt with exaggerated dignity. "Because now I know. Now I finally understand what's happening. My father wants my fiancée."
"Leo—"
"Maybe I'll tell Luca. Maybe I'll tell Aurora. Maybe I'll tell everyone at the next family dinner." He's swaying, but his eyes are sharp despite the alcohol. "Maybe I'll—"
"You'll do nothing." My voice drops to that dangerous quiet that makes grown men flinch.
"Because if you go spewing this nonsense to anyone, anyone at all, I will destroy you.
Completely and utterly. Every connection you have, every dollar in your account, every shred of protection the Santego name gives you.
I will take it all away and leave you with nothing. Do you understand me?"
He stares at me, and through the drunken haze I see the moment he realizes I mean it. That this isn't an empty threat.
"You can't keep us apart forever," he says finally, but there's less certainty in his voice now.
"Watch me."
I leave him there, drunk and bitter and watching me with eyes that see too much.
He knows. He fucking knows something is happening between Aurora and me.
And now I have to figure out how to fix this situation before he ruins everything before he tells Luca, before he hurts Aurora, before this entire house of cards comes crashing down on all our heads.