Chapter 61
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
Lily
I don’t know when it happens. The moment the music swells, or when his tongue stills, or when I realize my body isn’t braced for impact anymore.
I just know that suddenly I’m shaking.
Not from fear.
From release.
I fold forward, holding onto the railings as I break apart for him.
The second the last wave crashes over me, he’s placing my foot back on the floor, and he’s standing in front of me.
He doesn’t say a word. He presses my face into his chest as the tears come fast and hot, my chest hitching like I’ve been holding this breath for years.
“I didn’t think I could ever feel happy again here,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I thought it was gone. That he took it from me.”
His hand slides up to the back of my neck. “He took nothing from you,” he murmurs into my hair. “You’re still her.”
That’s what undoes me.
Still her.
I sniff, wiping my face with the back of my hand, embarrassed by how hard I’m crying and not caring at the same time. My chest aches, but it’s lighter now. Like something old finally cracked open and let the air in.
“I miss it,” I admit quietly. “Ballet. The discipline. The pain. The way it made me feel like my body belonged to me.” I swallow. “I think… I think I want it back.”
His arms tighten just a fraction. “Then you’ll have it,” he says, no hesitation. “When this is over, and we’re safe. We’ll make space for it.”
I nod against him, my tears soaking into his jacket. “I’ll start practicing again,” I whisper, more to myself than him. “Even if I’m terrible at first. Even if it hurts.”
He kisses the top of my head. “I’ll be there for every step. I’ll make my gym a ballet studio for you.”
He shifts then, guiding me gently until I’m settled on his lap, my back to his chest, my legs tucked in close. I curl into him without thinking, fitting perfectly, like my body remembers this safety even when my mind forgets.
The music carries on. The dancers move. And this time, I let myself watch. I let myself breathe.
His arms stay wrapped around me the entire show, one hand resting over my heart, the other on my thigh, absentmindedly tracing patterns like he’s reminding me I’m here. That I’m alive. That this place doesn’t own my pain anymore.
It was never the ballet that ruined me. That was the place that became my home. My safe space that was torn away from me.
Every so often, I feel his lips brush my temple. My hair. My cheek.
We don’t speak. We don’t need to.
By the time the final bow comes and we applaud them, I’m calm but also drained. Whole in a way I didn’t think was possible this morning.
I lean back against him, tilting my head up just enough to meet his eyes. “Thank you,” I whisper.
He smiles. “You’re mine, Lily.”
He threads his fingers through mine, lifting them to his mouth and placing a kiss.
“And you’re mine, Drago.”
A thought pops into my head that breaks the moment. “What happens now? We go home and pretend we’re nothing?”
He swallows. “In twelve days, we have a peace talk arranged with the enemy. If all goes to plan, then you will be safe. So will your father. We can tell him then, once it’s less tense.”
I nod slowly. “Twelve days of sneaking around?”
I can see this is hurting him, and I understand. The gravity of this, of choosing me, is far greater for him than it is for me.
My dad doesn’t rule me. But Drago has an alliance with him.
“It’s fine, Drago. We can do that. I can be discreet. I do have one rule, though.”
His eyebrow raises. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yep. You have to sleep with me every night. Even if it means you sneak in during the night and then disappear before the sun rises.”
He chuckles. “I can do that.”
I tap my chin. “Are we allowed to…”
“Have sex?” he smirks.
I nod, blushing. “Yes. That.”
He leans in, running his tongue along the column of my neck, and a moan escapes from my lips.
“You think I can keep my hands off you for twelve whole days? Impossible. You’ll just have to be really, really quiet, baby. Can you do that?”
I laugh.
I watch the world blur past the window as Drago weaves us through traffic, his focus steady. One hand grips the wheel, the other rests firmly on my thigh. Mine settles over his, our fingers fitting together like this is how they’ve always belonged.
I sigh.
Because I’m content. Because I’m happy. Because I can feel the difference in him now that the truth is out.
The tension he carried for years has eased, just a fraction, like a man who’s finally allowed himself to breathe. Knowing he was there that night… that he saw me at the worst moment of my life and still chose me—it settles something deep inside my chest.
He saw my brokenness. And he still fought his demons to get me back. He’s still willing to risk everything for a chance with me.
He made me safe enough to live again. Safe enough to enjoy the ballet again. Safe enough to feel powerful in my own skin.
He deserves this second chance. He deserves my heart—whether he believes it or not.
While my parents disappeared from my life, he stayed. In the shadows. Bleeding quietly to keep the world from hurting me again.
“Hey, Drago,” I whisper.
“Yes, baby?” his voice is soft, attentive.
I bite back my smile. “Did you know I was looking for that aftershave?”
He hesitates, just barely, then squeezes my thigh.
“Yes,” he admits. “I knew. I just couldn’t work out why.”
I nod slowly. “Is that why you stopped wearing it?”
“No.” His jaw tightens. “I stopped the day after the ballet. Because it reminded me of that night. Of how much pain you must have been in.”
Tears sting my eyes, and I tighten my grip on his hand, anchoring myself.
“Would you start wearing it again for me?” I ask quietly.
He doesn’t hesitate this time. “For you, I’d do anything.”
I turn toward him, my heart pounding. “Do you want to know why I was searching for it?”
“I would.”
“Because I thought it would make me feel less alone,” I say softly.
“A reminder that someone out there was protecting me. That I was safe. It wasn’t quite right, but it was close enough to pull me out of my nightmares when my mind spiraled.
” I swallow. “But now I know… it wasn’t the scent. It was the man who held me.”
His breath hitches. “Thank you for telling me, lastochka.”
“You’re welcome.”
He glances at me, eyes dark with emotion. “Do you still have the version you thought was close?”
I grin, reaching into my purse and pulling out the tiny sample. I spray it lightly between us.
He inhales deeply, then laughs. “Fuck, Lily. You were really close.”
My eyes widen. “Seriously?”
“You just needed a touch more sandalwood,” he says thoughtfully. “Tone down the vanilla. And add citrus.”
My mouth drops open. “I knew it was citrus.”
We laugh together, and something inside me finally settles. That deep, quiet sense of being home.
“So,” I tease, “is it easy for you to order more of that aftershave?”
A smirk curves his lips. “Yes, baby. My contact in Monaco makes it.”
My stomach flips. I have Drago now—I don’t need the scent. But damn, he smells incredible wearing it. “When we move there one day,” I say lightly, “can we order loads of it?”
He threads his fingers through mine. “Anything your heart desires, Lily.”
I lean over, resting my head against his arm, comforted by his presence. There are still a million questions swirling in my mind, but one rises above the rest.
“Have you ever seen me with another guy?” I ask.
His body stiffens instantly, making me laugh. “No,” he says flatly. “Because I would’ve killed him. I have seen you go on dates, though.”
I bite my lip. “Have you ever stolen my panties?”
He grins. “No. I stayed away. Remember?”
“Hm.”
“I did steal a vibrator once,” he adds casually. “When you asked me to go back to your place for your crystals. So technically it was only after you knew who I was.”
I sit up, mock-offended. “Drago.”
He laughs, tapping the steering wheel. “Relax.”
I watch him drive, my fingers trailing slowly along his thigh. “Did you… Get yourself off holding it?” I murmur.
A low groan escapes him. “Yeah. I did.”
Heat coils low in my stomach. “Did you put it in your ass?” I whisper.
He chokes on a cough. “No.”
I giggle, working my hand higher up his thigh. “Did you think about me when you came?” I purr.
He nods. “Yeah. And I came really fucking hard.”
I squeeze my legs together. I can’t ignore the ache in my pussy.
“I fully intend to return it to its rightful owner when we get home. I want to see how you use it on yourself,” he adds, his voice rough,
My cheeks burn. “You might have to gag me. I don’t think I can do quiet.”
He tips his head back slightly as we stop at a red light. “I’m about to pull over if you keep talking, baby.”
I smile, heart full, body humming.
This is the Drago I love. The man I trust. The one I choose.
“You’re in charge, Drago,” I whisper. “…Sir.”