Chapter 18 - Elena
The first thing Roman does is pull me into his grasp like he can’t stand the thought of me vanishing again.
Rather than rough or frantic, the hug is solid, grounding, and achingly familiar. His hand cradles the back of my head the way it always did when I was little and needed some sort of comfort after nightmares, or if I had a bad day at school.
“You’re alright,” he murmurs, not a question. I can’t tell if the reminder is meant for him or me.
“I am,” I say gently, heart squeezing at the thought of finally seeing my family again, and the fact that they know I’m alright. “I promise.”
Roman holds me a second longer, breathing me in before letting go. He steps back, making room as his eyes scan me for injuries I know he won’t find. His jaw clenches only slightly at my calm, steady posture.
Mikhail claims his hug next, followed by Sergey, then Ivan, who keeps a hand on my shoulder after the fact, like he’s anchoring himself.
“You should’ve called sooner,” Sergey tells me, not unkind or demanding.
“I couldn’t,” I reply honestly, glancing between them. “Not without making things worse. I had to go through the motions.”
Roman inspects me further, giving me a look that says he understands, but still doesn’t necessarily like it. “He didn’t hurt you?”
“No.”
“Threaten you?”
“No.”
“He didn’t force you to do anything?” He asks more pointedly.
I hesitate as the reminder of that first night hits me again, and I feel myself turning more sheepish. “Aside from the marriage license…no. Not in the way you’re thinking.”
At that, all four of them freeze as if I’ve just set off an explosive in the room. That silence is immediate and deafening, and none of them are willing to break it yet.
“Marriage?” Roman manages to grit out after a while. “He forced you to marry him?”
“Yes, but—”
“He’s dead,” Mikhail utters, already prepared to move.
“Wait, hold on,” I say urgently, reaching for his arm before he can go. I look between them, brows pinched. “Don’t get hasty on me. He only did it to deter the other families from selling me. Nothing more.”
“That’s not comforting, Elena,” Roman says, tone vaguely scolding as he crosses his arms.
“I know, but just listen to me,” I return with a measured kind of conviction, making sure they all know I’m still not one to let them walk over me. “Just hear me out.”
Roman glances at Mikhail, then he sighs, and they all keep quiet, allowing me to continue. That cooperation says everything about how much this matters, and not just to me.
“Wyatt isn’t the typical good man, at least, not how most people would define one. He can be reckless and secretive, and yes, he forced me to marry him…”
Ivan scoffs to himself. “That’s a glowing endorsement.”
“But,” I add, far from finished. “He’s not cruel, and he’s not using me the way everyone assumes. He’s certainly not using me as the Grimaldis or Balakins would if they had the chance. He’s not that different from you guys either.”
They all look reluctant to believe it, and Roman’s expression shifts. “Elena.”
“He didn’t know Lily wanted to be here. He thought she was captured and being held here,” I tell them before they can cling to their preconceived notions. “He genuinely believed she needed saving.”
They both don’t say anything, yet the subtle changes in their features give away how it obviously hits hard enough to be taken into consideration.
“Wyatt was blackmailed by the man who abducted me, and he faked his death to protect Lily. He took me to protect me,” I continue, not stopping to consider my words or how all of this might come across.
“It was wrong and selfish of him to keep hidden all this time, but it wasn’t malicious.
And he didn’t step forward with me any sooner because he was trying to avoid being killed for real by you guys. ”
After a beat, Roman forces a breath through his nose and scrubs a hand down his face. “You’re defending him.”
“I am,” I admit, well aware that his very life is still on the line, depending on what they decide to do about him.
I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t at least try to make the outcome a little less bloody.
“Not because I owe him anything, and not because I’m blind to what he’s done.
I’m defending him because he’s Lily’s brother, and because I think he’s capable of growth.
At least, there’s more to him than the secrecy and business deals. ”
Once again, they all settle into a contemplative silence, not giving away their thoughts outright.
“And,” I add, hoping they’re taking me seriously. “Because this could be good for everyone, especially him and Lily.”
Roman’s gaze sharpens fractionally, almost disbelieving.
“You want us to trust the Vegas Ghost. He’s been so elusive, we almost didn’t even know of him.
Ivan and Nikolai didn’t even know who they were checking CCTV footage for.
He somehow kept himself under the radar long enough to stop us from finding either one of you, and I’m supposed to believe he can be trusted? ”
“Look, I know I’m asking a lot, but he kept his word to me. He kept me safe, he never asked anything of me, and he even let me boss him around occasionally. And he cares enough about his sister to devote all his time and effort to getting her back. He won’t put her at risk.”
Ivan snorts. “You're bossing him around? I believe that.”
Despite the brief levity, I don’t miss how Roman zeroes in on me. “Are you sure there isn’t more to this than you’re letting on?”
I know exactly what he’s referring to.
Feelings. My feelings and personal hangups, more specifically.
I’ve been avoiding them like the plague, but ever since I started seeing those glimpses of genuine tenderness in Wyatt, they’ve sprouted despite my better judgment. I know I shouldn’t care about him, but I can’t help it.
Maybe I am more emotionally invested in him than I should be, especially when he can’t feel the same way. I’ve already accepted that the sex was just sex and nothing more, even if my feelings have taken root in it.
But, they don’t need to know that.
“I’m sure,” I say as convincingly as I can. “I just think Wyatt is a better person than you’d expect, and I don’t want Lily to lose her brother all over again. He just wants to build a bridge with you.”
At that, I catch how Mikhail’s expression softens, then he sighs too and pinches the bridge of his nose.
Roman looks at me for a long moment, his inner conflict reflected in his eyes. Then his tone eases a bit. “You shouldn’t have had to go through any of this.”
“I know,” I murmur, averting my gaze briefly. “But I did, and I’m okay. I want to continue to be okay.”
His shoulders sag a bit with resignation, and I feel as Mikhail drapes his arm over me. “You scared us.”
“Trust me, I was scared too. But I knew I’d end up back here eventually. One way or another.”
“Don’t ever do that again,” Mikhail hums as he rests his chin on the top of my head, letting me feel the vibration.
I smile faintly, more with relief than anything. “I won’t guarantee anything.”
Roman scoffs harmlessly and rolls his eyes. “I can tell you’re just fine.”
Before long, Wyatt, Lily, and Anya join us in the bigger living room, with Nikolai in tow, a beat later, before softening his demeanour and escorting the little one out.
The atmosphere shifts immediately, growing tense again from Wyatt’s presence alone.
He looks shaken in a solemn, remorseful kind of way, like he’s trying to pick up the pieces of everything he thought he knew.
Lily’s eyes are glassy, yet she moves like her shoulders are lighter now. Hopeful.
As Roman straightens, the previous warmth leaves him, replaced by the usual authority he commands. He takes a measured breath.
“This is how this is going to work,” he begins, sounding both calm and deadly serious. When Wyatt meets his gaze without flinching, he continues. “We won’t use force to take Elena back, and we won’t kill you either.”
A flicker of surprise crosses Wyatt’s gaze, but it’s quick and gone in an instant.
“As long as you continue to treat her exactly as she deserves…and then some,” Roman adds, gaze sharp with warning.
“I don’t need to be threatened into doing that.”
“But you do, because if you ever forget, I’ll gladly remind you,” he utters, unrelenting. “If I even catch wind that you’ve done anything she doesn’t like, all bets are off.”
While I don’t imagine Wyatt’s pride enjoys swallowing these demands, he does it anyway, and he doesn’t complain. Instead, he nods.
Mikhail lets an arm settle around Lily’s waist, relaxing his posture just enough for her, but not enough to let his guard down completely. “This is for Lily’s sake, not yours. And because our sister believes you’re not irredeemable.”
Before I can stop myself, I scoff. “I said ‘capable of growth’, thank you.”
I catch Wyatt’s eyes on me, and for a beat, something close to gratitude moves between us, and it makes something squirm in me. Then he huffs to himself. “That’s more generous than I deserve.”
Ignoring the exchange, Roman mutters, with a touch of reluctance, “We’re willing to work with you, but only if you prove to us that we can trust you.”
At this, he straightens a bit more, realizing the gravity of what’s being offered. “You’ll accept a truce?”
Roman nods, steady and grounding in the way he stands, ever the leader. “The Grimaldis are a mutual problem. They want us toppled, they tried to buy our sister, and they want you dead. So, we’ll focus on our mutual enemy.”
Wyatt blinks, obviously surprised by the olive branch he was hoping for and didn’t think he’d get. But he schools his expression and nods. “And after that?”
“After that,” he echoes coolly, “We’ll deal with the Balakins...assuming you have no more associations with them.”
“None at all,” he says plainly, not needing to think about it. “My allegiance to them died with my old self.”
My brothers consider this, and despite how they were ready to gut him the moment Wyatt walked into the house, the weight of everything doesn’t carry the same oppression as it had. This is a strategy, not forgiveness. I’ve been around my brothers long enough to know that.
This kind of alliance can fracture just as easily as these words have been exchanged, and Wyatt seems to understand that.
A beat later, he adds, “You have my word on that.”
In no hurry to coddle him for his promises, Roman just looks at him a moment longer, then his attention turns to me.
“And Elena,” he continues, tone a touch lighter. “You’re not his prisoner. I’ll make sure of that.”
Wyatt stiffens at the mention of it, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he lets Roman go on without interruption as he addresses him again.
“Our sister is free to go anywhere, anytime. If she wants to come home, then she will,” he says pointedly. “There will be no locks, no restraints, and no games. She has always had her freedom, and that won’t change now. Not for you or anyone else.”
Nobody says a word, and in that silence, I look at Wyatt.
At the man who both upended my life on a whim and who also trusted me with his truth.
Who let me see his weaknesses and the very thing he cares most about.
The one who saw the reality of his sister’s life and didn’t try to pull her away despite the fact.
I acknowledge the small part of me that wants nothing to do with him or the trouble surrounding us, but the bigger, more vocal part is surprised by the relief washing through me rather than fear or uncertainty.
He isn’t the man I assumed him to be before, and fortunately, I like this one better.
Roman stares him down. “Am I clear?”
Even if there’s a momentary hesitation in his agreement, likely at the need to relinquish some control, Wyatt nods. “Crystal.”
Searching me one last time, Roman waits before saying with a note of finality, “Then we’re done here.” His gaze flits to Wyatt again. “Take what I said to heart, and maybe this won’t end badly for you.”
Wyatt’s lips press together, unwilling to tip the already delicate balance by saying something he shouldn’t.
For the first time since all of this began, I’m not bracing for impact or the fallout. Instead, I get to choose what comes next.
Even if that choice feels far bigger than ever before.