Chapter 26 – Danil
The rain hadn’t stopped since the gunfire. It slid across the ruined streets in the thin rivers, washing over broken glass, blood, and the faint smell of smoke.
I moved through the silence, Katria clinging to my chest. Her body trembled, but her tears had finally run dry. Feliks’s body was gone, taken away by strangers who didn’t know his story, but the weight of his absence pressed heavily in the air.
Katria buried her face against my shoulder, whispering in a trembling voice. “He’s really gone, isn’t he? No more traitors, no more Feliks, no more fear. My heart can finally rest, and my dad’s soul can rest in peace. He’s gone.”
I clenched my jaw tighter as I held her, trying to keep my grief from spilling out. “Yes. He is.”
Her hands gripped the back of my shirt, wrinkling the fabric. “I just…I wish he’d exposed Feliks sooner. He would still be here if…if….”
I stopped walking, adjusting her in my arms so I could see her face.
Raindrops clung to her lashes, and her eyes burned red from crying.
“Listen to me,” I said firmly but softly enough to pull her back from the edge.
“If he were here, he’d tell you not to waste what he gave you. Don’t dishonor his memory with regret.”
Katria pressed her forehead to mine. “Then promise me you won’t leave me like that. That you’ll stay by my side and be with me.”
My throat tightened, but I forced the words out steadily. “I promise you, Katria. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay by your side and be with you. Nobody is going to harm you anymore. I won’t leave you, okay?”
For a moment, the rain was the only sound between us. I kissed her hair and carried her forward, every step heavy but certain as she whispered, “Okay.”
By the time we reached the safehouse, dawn was bleeding through the horizon. The world looked gray, like it hadn’t yet decided whether to keep turning.
Inside, I lay her gently on the sofa. She looked fragile in the dim light, but her eyes never left mine.
On the table nearby sat the remnants of what so many had killed for—the Sivella Holdings documents. Pages bent, ink blurred from rain. Worth billions in the right hands. Worth nothing to me.
I picked them up, flipped through the sheets once, and then ripped them in half.
Katria jolted upright. “Danil, what are you doing?” she asked, her voice a low whisper.
I didn’t stop. Page after page tore under my hands, pieces falling like ash to the floor. “This isn’t what matters. This isn’t what Feliks died for. And it sure as hell isn’t what I’m going to lose for you.”
A strange relief softened her features. She slid off the sofa, kneeling in front of me, watching the last of the paper scatter.
She whispered, “You’d really throw all of that away for me?”
I met her gaze, unflinching. “For you, Kat, I’d burn the whole world down.”
Her lips trembled into the faintest smile, though her eyes shimmered with tears again. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against my knee.
“Then I don’t need anything else. Just you are enough. Just you and me.”
I pulled her up so she was on my lap. I cupped her chin and lifted her face, forcing her to meet my eyes. “You’ll always have me, Kat, and believe me, I’m going nowhere without you.”
“You know,” she murmured, tracing lazy circles against my chest, “you’re impossible when you’re jealous.”
I refused an eyebrow, half amused, half wary. “Jealous? Of who?”
“Of everyone,” she teased, her lips curving. “You glare at any man who so much as breathes near me.”
“That’s because most men don’t deserve the privilege,” I muttered. “And I don’t like sharing what’s mine. You’re mine, Kat, and you’re not shareable.”
Her laugh was soft, a fragile sound in the quiet room, but it carried warmth. “Possessive, aren’t you?”
“Protective,” I corrected, brushing a strand of wet hair from her face. “There’s a difference.”
“Mm.” She tilted her head, pretending to think. “What about Irene? You don’t glare at her, at all.”
I smirked faintly. “That’s because Irene knows better than to touch what isn’t hers.”
At that, Katria smiled and she hid her face against my chest, murmuring, “You’re ridiculous.”
But she was smiling, and for me, that was worth everything.
That was when Irene appeared at the doorway, her coat already on, suitcase in hand.
Katria sat up quickly. “Irene, you’re leaving?”
“My part in this story is done. I just need some time alone.”
Katria’s eyes sparkled once more, but this time it wasn’t sadness—it was thankfulness. She rose and moved across the room to hug Irene closely. “Thank you. For everything.”
Irene hesitated only a moment before returning the embrace.
“You’ve been given a chance most people don’t get. Don’t waste it,” she told my wife.
I nodded as I told Irene, “Safe travels.”
With a final glance between us, Irene left. The door clicked shut behind her, and silence settled again.
Katria leaned against the frame for a moment, exhaling. “She really cared, didn’t she?”
I stepped behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. “She did. But now, it’s just us.”
She turned in my arms, looking up at me with a steadiness that hadn’t been there before. “Just us. And that’s enough.”
That night, the storm finally broke. The rain slowed to a drizzle, and the air smelled clean, almost new.
Katria and I sat side by side on the balcony, a thin blanket wrapped around us both. The city stretched below, scarred but still standing.
Katria tested her head on my shoulder. “It feels strange. Like the world is waiting for something.”
I pressed a kiss to her temple. “The people decide what comes next.”
She tilted her face to me, her voice a whisper. “So what comes next for us?”
I didn’t answer right away. I studied her, the strength in her eyes, the way she leaned into me as if I were her anchor. Finally, I said, “Whatever we choose, Kat. No papers, no empires, no ghosts of the past. Just us, moving forward.”
Her lips curved, and for the first time in days, the smile reached her eyes. “Then I choose you. Always you.”
I pulled her closer, sealing her words with a kiss that was neither hurried nor desperate—it was steady, certain, like the promise I’d made.
She kissed me back with a gentle sweetness that made my chest tighten with love.
I was hovering over her on our bed in an instant as we helped each other undress. Her chest rose and fell as my fingers traced her clit. I fucked her with my fingers, never breaking eye contact. She climaxed, covering my fingers with her slick wetness.
“I love you, Katria,” I declared.
“I love you, too, Danil,” she breathed just as I slid my hard length into her plush pussy.
Her moans were covered in my kisses as I moved inside her.
I felt her tighten around my cock and increased my pace, not too far from release myself. Her loud moan of my name was followed by the low groan that emanated from my lips.
I partially collapsed over her, kissing the corner of her lips as our breaths slowed.
For the first time in what felt like forever, we allowed ourselves to simply breathe.
The war wasn’t over. Shadows still lurked, and danger still circled. But for that night, beneath the fading storm, Katria and I held on to the one truth that mattered.
We had chosen each other. And nothing else could break or separate that.