She stepped into me, and I hugged her, holding her close as she whispered, “Just trust.”
“Exactly,” I rasped. “Lyanov...” My voice waned as she tensed. “He wants Victoria, Camille. I don’t know the extents he’ll go to to have her as his bride. Far as I know he’s from an orphanage in Moscow, so he’s trying to buy his way to respectability as Pakhan. I didn’t think about the consequences when I dealt with him, but I promise you this, now, after we’ve had this conversation, the day before she turns eighteen, I’ll kill him before I let him have her.
“She wasn’t a part of the promise I made your ma, because she wasn’t born then, but that doesn’t mean shit. She’s family. Through her, I’m going to redeem myself and I won’t let her—”
She tensed, interrupting, “You’ll start a war.”
“We’re always at war, sweetheart. Ain’t you figured that out yet? Life is fucking war.”
“I made him promise that he’d court her.”
“You think he’s got time for that?” I snorted. “He’s got three years to turn even more fucked in the head as the power corrupts him. I don’t want him anywhere near my family.”
Her hand clenched in my shirt. “Abramovicz said something that resonated with me yesterday. You’re born Bratva, and you’ll die Bratva—there’s no escape.”
“There was for you and Inessa. You’re Irish now,” I rumbled, even gladder now that she’d bitten the fucker’s dick off after he’d told her that. “We can wed her to one of our men.”
“I don’t want that for her. I want her to make her choice.” She stared up at me, repeating, “I told him that if he wanted her, he had to court her. If she chooses him, then he lives.”
“Why let it get that far?”
“A feeling.”
“What kind of feeling?” I grumbled.
“Did you see him yesterday? When we drew Victoria outside?”
I thought back to those moments when I’d had to get both of them to the SUV without either of them getting shot. Eoghan had popped off some rounds, saving us from the remaining bastards who refused to surrender, but I hadn’t exactly been on the lookout for Pakhan-wannabes who had calf eyes.
“I didn’t.”
“He wants her.”
“So?”
“To be wanted like that isn’t something Victoria knows.”
“It’s pretty fucked up that he wants a kid. I should kill the bastard now.”
She growled, “No, not like that. It was as if she was a Christmas present he couldn’t afford.”
“I thought you weren’t a romantic,” I chided softly, though her diary had told me otherwise.
“I’m not.”
I snorted. “Everything you just said makes no sense unless you are.”
Camille huffed. “If he’s willing to fight for her, then let him. And if he isn’t, and he raises his voice to her just the once, I’ll let you kill him.”
“You’ll let me, huh?”
“Yes.” She licked her lips. “I’m a woman who knows what it is to be unwanted, Brennan. I don’t want that for her.”
Closing my eyes, I tucked her closer then propped my chin on the crown of her head and corrected, “You’veknownwhat it felt like. Not anymore, Camille. I’ll spend the rest of my fucking life showing you if that’s what you need.”
Her voice was small. “I do.”
“Then that’s how it’ll be.”