Chapter Eight
Nadia
The drive home passes in complete silence.
I sit in the passenger seat with both hands wrapped around the seat belt, staring out the window without really seeing the streets slipping by. Every time I close my eyes, I’m back inside that hotel suite. I hear my father’s voice calling me worthless.
I hear him confessing to murdering my mother as casually as someone discussing tomorrow’s weather. Then I hear the crack of his hand against my face, followed by River’s voice cutting through the room like a lifeline.
By the time we step inside the apartment, exhaustion has settled into every bone in my body.
River quietly locks the door before checking every window without saying a word.
I recognize the routine now. It’s become second nature to him ever since I moved in.
Once he’s satisfied everything is secure, he walks into the kitchen, fills a glass with water, and brings it to me before sitting beside me on the couch.
Neither of us speaks immediately. He gives me time. Finally, he asks softly, “How are you doing?”
I stare down at the glass in my hands. “I don’t know.”
He waits.
“I thought I’d gotten stronger. But the second I saw him…” My voice grows quieter. “I wasn’t twenty anymore. I was seventeen again.”
The words hurt to admit.
“I wasn’t the woman who ran away from California. I wasn’t the woman who found a job, made friends, or built a life here.” I blink away fresh tears. “I became that scared little girl who spent every day trying not to make her father angry.”
River slides closer until our shoulders touch. “That’s not how it works. You don’t get to pick the day something stops having a hold on you.”
I look at him. “It felt like I’d never escaped.”
“You did.” His hand gently covers mine. “But you weren’t alone this time.”
No, I wasn’t. River came for me. They all did.
The realization nearly breaks me all over again. After several quiet minutes, curiosity slowly pushes through the haze. I’m not surprised River can handle a gun—he was a cop, after all—or that he knocked out my father. What I can’t work out is how they found me so fast.
“How did you find me?”
River leans back against the couch. “I wasn’t exaggerating when I told you about what we do.”
“I know.”
“After Royal checked the shop cameras and saw your father taking you, I remembered your phone and tracked it.”
I blink. “You can do that?”
“I learned a few things during my detective days.” He shrugs as though tracking someone through the city is no more remarkable than making coffee. “Once we had your location, Royal took over.”
I smile despite myself. “That sounds dangerous. What did he do?”
“He hacked into the hotel’s reservation system and found the room your father had booked.”
I stare at him. “Royal is terrifying.”
“He absolutely is.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think I’ll ever completely understand the four of you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“But I want to.”
River grows thoughtful. “We’re not superheroes. We’re just four stubborn men who got tired of watching criminals walk away because they had enough money to buy better lawyers.”
I think about my father. About the empire he’d built on fear, the politicians he’d bribed, the police officers he’d bought, and the witnesses who’d disappeared. I know better than anyone that justice doesn’t always belong to the innocent.
Sometimes, it belongs to whoever can afford it.
“My father,” I whisper. “He’s ordered terrible things, and he never got his own hands dirty.”
“I know.”
Silence stretches between us. Then I hold his gaze, asking the question I’ve been avoiding. “What happens to him?”
River doesn’t answer immediately. He studies me for a long moment before speaking carefully. “We can’t let a man like Damir walk free.”
My chest tightens. He doesn’t say the words. Yet, I understand. I lower my eyes to my hands. For years, I’d imagined confronting my father. I’d pictured screaming at him and demanding answers. Asking why I was never enough.
But I heard the answer tonight, from his own mouth, in that suite.
I was never not enough. That would have meant he measured me against something and found me short.
He never measured me at all. He put me in a column, the way he put my mother in a column, and when the number stopped working, he closed the book.
Twenty years of waiting to find out what I did wrong. It turns out I was never in the running. That should hurt more than it does.
Instead, all I feel is relief. He admitted to killing my mother, and he stood in a hotel room and explained, patiently, what a man in his position does with a cost he can no longer carry. Those are the actions of a monster.
When I finally look back at River, my voice is steady. “I’m not sorry.”
He searches my face. “Are you sure?”
I nod. “My father stopped being my family a long time ago.”
River reaches over and gently squeezes my hand. “I’m sorry you never had the father you deserved.”
We sit with that. There’s only one thing left between us now, and neither of us wants to be the one to name it.
Eventually, River breaks the silence. “What does this mean for us?”
The question catches me off guard. I look down at the wedding ring still circling my finger. I still don’t know how to answer. “I’m not ready.”
His expression doesn’t change. “Okay.” He nods. “Take whatever time you need.”
I look back up, inhaling sharply at the intensity behind his gaze. I can’t think.
“I’m going to lie down,” I blurt out. I stand instantly, not waiting for his response.
“I’ll be here.”
I nod once before walking toward the bedroom and quietly closing the door behind me. I sit on the edge of the bed with my hands folded in my lap, staring at the ring I’d once viewed as nothing more than protection.
When had it become something else? When had this marriage stopped being temporary in my heart? I replay the past few weeks over and over. He built a bubble of safety around me, and I didn’t even notice I was standing in it.
River making breakfast because he wanted me to sleep in. Leaving coffee on my desk without interrupting me while I worked. Standing beside me whenever a client became rude. Covering me with a blanket after I’d fallen asleep on the couch.
Even before we kissed, before we married, he’d been quietly taking care of me. Not because he expected anything in return. Because that’s simply who he is. A painful thought slips into my mind. Does he love me? Or is this simply who River is with everyone?
Maybe I’m just another person he feels responsible for. Maybe he’ll be relieved to end our marriage. The thought hurts far more than I expect. I stand and walk toward the bedroom window. Outside, Atlanta continues moving as though nothing has changed.
My father is gone. Ivan is married. For the first time since I was seventeen, I’m completely free. I could leave tomorrow, move anywhere, and start over again. No one would stop me. But I don’t want to. The realization settles over me with startling clarity.
Why don’t I want to? The answer arrives almost immediately. Because home isn’t a place anymore. Home is River. I don’t want another fresh start or false identity. I want lazy mornings arguing over coffee and listening to him complain about my alphabetized pantry. I want him.
I want the tall, heavily tattooed teddy bear of a man whose hazel eyes go black when someone looks at me wrong and turn molten when he looks at me. The truth crashes into me so suddenly I laugh through fresh tears.
“I’m in love with him.” The words echo around the bedroom.
They’re terrifying. They’re wonderful. They’re true.
Without giving myself another chance to overthink it, I hurry toward the living room.
River is pacing exactly where I left him.
The moment he sees me, he stops. “You okay?”
The question bursts out before I lose my nerve. “Do you want an annulment?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “No.”
The force behind the answer steals my breath.
He crosses the room in three long strides. “I don’t. I don’t want a divorce either. I love you, Nadia.”
Everything inside me goes still.
“I’ve been trying to convince myself this marriage was temporary, but somewhere along the way…” He laughs softly at himself. “I forgot it was supposed to be fake.”
Tears fill my eyes again as he holds my gaze.
“I love waking up beside you.” His voice shakes. “I love arguing with you.”
I smile through my tears.
“I even love your impossible need to organize everything.”
A laugh escapes me.
“But…” His expression grows more serious. “You’ve never had a choice before. Your father made your choices. Ivan almost made your choices. I’m not going to.” He swallows and exhales. “If ending this marriage is what you want, I’ll sign whatever papers you need.”
He smiles sadly. “It’ll hurt. But I’ll let you go.”
Everything suddenly becomes perfectly clear. He isn’t trying to keep me but giving me the room to stay. He handed me a key on the first night without thinking about it, and he’s doing the same thing now with something that costs him a great deal more. That’s the difference. That’s love.
I throw my arms around his neck before he can say another word and kiss him with everything I’ve been too afraid to admit.
When we finally pull apart, I rest my forehead against his. “I love you too. I don’t want an annulment. I want my husband.”
His breath catches, and a slow smile spreads across his face. “I was really hoping you’d say that.”
I laugh, pressing a deep kiss on his lips.
He pulls back and brushes a thumb across my cheek. “So, I have one question.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What?”
“Now that we’re actually married for real…” His grin grows. “Would you let me take you on a proper first date?”
I burst out laughing. “We’re doing everything backward.”
“I noticed. We even got married before dating.”
I raise my brows, and my voice drops. “Since we’re doing it all backward, why don’t we seal the deal with a thorough fucking before our date?” I whisper against his ear despite my burning cheeks.
River doesn’t hesitate. He grins, and we walk hand in hand, anticipation singing in my veins.