Chapter 86
CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX
Lily
I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep on the couch until I’m being prodded in the head by a small finger.
I blink awake, disoriented for half a second, my body heavy and warm in that deep way only exhaustion can make you feel. Then my eyes focus.
Little Isabella is sitting on the floor in front of me, legs crossed, staring up at me like she’s been waiting all night for me to wake.
Her big eyes are bright. Like she doesn’t understand yet that the world tried to take everything from us yesterday.
“Are you my Uncle Drago’s girlfriend?” she asks.
My throat tightens instantly.
I blink at her, and she’s smiling at me like it’s the most normal question in the world. Like she isn’t asking the thing that makes my heart ache.
I wipe at the corner of my eyes and sit up slowly, hair messy, sweater wrinkled, my body still sore in places I can’t name.
The little girl he saved. The one he loves like his own family. The one who makes even Drago’s darkness soften at the edges.
I smile back at her. “Yes,” I whisper. “I am.”
She pouts dramatically, like she’s weighing it up. “So you’re my auntie now?”
A laugh slips out of me, quiet and shaky and real. “I guess that does make me your auntie,” I say gently. “Is that okay?”
She nods once, like she’s decided it’s acceptable.
“Uncle Drago needed a girlfriend,” she says, deadly serious. “He needs to be happy sometimes. Not always grumpy.”
My chest loosens, the warmth of it spreading through me. I laugh properly this time. “I’ll make sure he’s really happy, Isabella,” I promise. “I swear.”
She narrows her eyes at me like she’s testing my sincerity. “You pinkie swear?” she asks, holding her little finger out like it’s a sacred contract.
I reach down and link my finger with hers. “I cross my heart.”
Her smile is instant. Bright and satisfied.
Then I glance up and find Hallie watching us, leaning against the doorway with little Liam tucked against her chest. Her eyes are soft, but there’s something protective there too—like she’s been hovering close all night, making sure I don’t slip under again.
“What time is it?” I ask, voice rough from sleep.
“Five a.m.,” she answers.
My eyebrows shoot up.
“Wow,” I whisper. “I slept for six hours?”
Hallie nods, her mouth turning into a small smile. “You were exhausted,” she says gently, then her tone shifts. Warming. Motherly. “We’ve made some breakfast. It’s nothing special, but get some food in you, please.”
I nod, swallowing hard.
“Do you want some too?” I ask Isabella.
She nods eagerly and jumps to her feet, grabbing my hand like she’s already claimed me.
Her fingers are warm and small.
Alive.
Safe.
“When will my daddy be back?” she asks as she tugs me toward the table.
My heart twists.
“Soon,” I tell her, because what else can I say?
Because I don’t know. Because I don’t have my phone. Because I don’t have anything except hope and the faint, steady beating of my own heart.
I sit down and Hallie slides a plate in front of me. A pastry. A few pieces of fruit. Something warm to drink.
I manage two mouthfuls before I hear it.
Footsteps coming down the stairs.
Isabella hears it too because her eyes light up like she’s been plugged into electricity.
She’s off her chair before I can even blink. “Daddy!” she squeals.
The first person through the door is Declan. And Isabella launches herself at him like a missile.
My heart melts as he catches her effortlessly, lifting her up into his arms, his face disappearing into her hair as he nuzzles her like he’s grounding himself, like that small, innocent body is the one thing in the world that can hold him together.
Even a mafia boss, one of the strongest men in the world can be brought to the edge of tears by the love for their own kid.
Declan’s eyes close for a second.
His hand spreads over her back.
And I see it.
Relief.
He’s alive. He came back.
Then my gaze shifts…
And everything else falls silent.
Drago steps into the room behind him.
His clothes are smudged with smoke and dirt. His jaw is unshaven. His eyes look like they haven’t stopped scanning for threats since yesterday. Like his body is still in war mode, still waiting for the next explosion.
But the second he sees me something inside him changes.
Something breaks.
He doesn’t wait for me to stand.
He starts walking toward me, as if I am the only thing that ever mattered, like the world could still be burning behind him and he wouldn’t care as long as he gets to touch me.
My throat tightens. My eyes sting. My fingers curl around the edge of the table as if I’m afraid my body won’t hold me upright.
He reaches me in seconds.
Without uttering a single word, he cups my face with both hands and leans down, kissing me.
Not soft. Not careful. A kiss that pours every bit of love he has into me. Every ounce of relief. Every ounce of fear he swallowed. Every promise he’s ever made to himself about keeping me safe.
I cling to his shirt, gripping him like he might disappear if I loosen my hold.
I need him to be real. I need him here. I need him alive.
He pulls back just enough for his mouth to brush mine as he speaks, voice rough, reverent, wrecked.
“We’re free, lastochka,” he whispers.
My breath catches.
“It’s over.”
My whole body melts. I sag into him like gravity has finally loosened its grip on my throat.
His arms wrap around me, tight and unbreakable, and I press my face into his chest, breathing him in like oxygen. He tips my chin up again, forcing me to look at him. His blue eyes burn into mine. “You did that, Lily,” he murmurs. “Your brave actions helped to end the Preacher.”
My lips tremble.
His thumb strokes my cheek like he’s memorizing the fact I’m still here.
“You saved my life,” he continues quietly. “Actually… you saved me in many ways.”
My chest aches. I can’t speak. Not yet.
“I want to spend the rest of my days showing you how grateful I am for you. One day soon, I’ll marry you, lastochka,” he says, then quickly follows up with, “but this isn’t your proposal, you’ll have to wait for that.”.
Then he kisses me again, harder this time, like he’s making it a vow. Like he’s sealing it into my skin.
When he finally pulls back, I’m shaking again. But it’s different now.
“Can we go home, Drago?” I whisper.
He smiles against my lips, soft and deadly and beautiful. “We can go wherever you like, baby,” he murmurs. “My home is wherever you are.”
And the words hit me like something I’ve been starving for without even knowing it.
Years of thinking I was broken. Years of thinking no one could love me as I am.
Maybe part of that was right.
Because I was never meant to find anyone else.
I was always meant to find him.
Drago.
My first true love.
My only love.