Chapter Twenty-Eight Konstantin’s POV
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Konstantin’s POV
“Well done, Konstantin,” Viktor greeted. “You did a good job.”
I chuckled. “That’s high praise, coming from you, brother.”
It had been a few hours since we left the docks, and we were back in Manhattan.
“However, now that you’ve neutralized Dimitri, the political fallout will be messy…”
I barely listened to what my brother said as my eyes were on Alina. On her bandaged arm. She was on the couch, talking with Greta like she didn’t just witness a brutal gunfight. Like she didn’t just stare death in the face.
I had had to plead with her to let the nurses we’d sent to the house before our arrival take care of her. I wondered what on earth she was thinking when she offered to treat my injured men and me when she had an injury herself.
My insides clench at the thought of that single bullet doing more than graze her arm. I knew it would have driven me crazy. I might have lost control and maybe lost the whole battle, which wouldn’t be a bad thing or anything at all if I had lost the one person I wanted to win it for.
Viktor slapped my back. “We’ll see you at the warehouse on Friday for a proper meeting.”
I nodded, and he said, “Take care of her.”
“Most definitely,” I answered.
As Viktor left, I walked over to Alina.
“Just two more soft pillows will do,” she was telling Greta, her expression humorous.
“Sir,” Greta mentioned, getting up. “I’ll ask Hans to put them up for you,” she said to Alina before leaving the sitting room.
“Hi, Mr. Glare,” she joked as I sat beside her.
“This shouldn’t have happened,” I said, my eyes on her bandaged arm again. “I shouldn’t have let you leave the car.”
“Who knows if that would have been riskier?”
I sighed, unable to argue since that was my reason for not wanting her out of my sight on the docks.
“I’m fine,” she assured, moving to take the cup of tea on the stool in front of her.
I stretched and took it, handing it to her.
“Thanks,” she muttered, bringing the cup to her lips.
“Boss, we have it,” Sergei said, approaching from the downstairs office.
“I’ll be there,” I answered. Turning back towards Alina, I asked her, “Do you need anything?”
She shook her head from side to side.
“I’ll be back soon. Just ask any of them to call me if you need anything,” I told her, standing up.
“Yes, yes,” she answered, chuckling.
Bending over, I kissed her forehead.
When I came out of the office later, Alina was no longer on the couch in the sitting room. I thought of going to her room, but then I decided to check the balcony first.
I found her there. She wasn’t sitting this time. She stood with her hands on the steel railing.
Her neck turned as I approached, like she already knew it was me.
“It’s all done now. The guy is done. I’ve finished the audit trail with Mila. My name is cleared now,” she said, her tone soft. “I can leave whenever I want.”
A lump formed in my throat as I took her words in. She was right. She was bound without choice, and now that the truth has been discovered, she had no reason to stay. The Bratva couldn’t hold her back from leaving anymore.
But what about me?
Seeing her leave was the last thing I wanted. But at the same time, forcing her to stay or having her stay when she didn’t want to would kill me. I couldn’t deprive her of happiness.
“I won’t stop you from leaving. But I can’t go back to who I was before you,” I told her. “If you walk out, you walk free.”
I took a step closer to her. “But if you stay, you’re mine. Not as a hostage. As my wife.”
I watched her eyes study me for a while.
“I’m tired of running, Konstantin,” she finally said. “I’m tired of being blamed for men’s crimes.”
I nodded.
Her eyes bore into mine again as she said, “I choose to stay. But on my own terms.”
“What do you mean?”
“It means you stop treating me like leverage and start treating me like a partner.”
“Baby, I’d love nothing more,” I confessed, unable to stop the smile that crept across my face.
“Damn. I love it when you smile,” she muttered.
“I love it when you breathe,” I told her before enveloping her body with mine.
I kissed her, my lips moving slowly over hers and making the promises my words couldn’t. It was different this time. Because it wasn’t possession; it was acceptance.