Her eyes fill with tears.
"Adi…"
I lean down and kiss her.
"The second the Volkovs are dead," I say. "The second Cornel Lupu is neutralized and the threat is gone, I will personally walk you through your parents' front door."
She nods, her hand gripping my shirt.
"I promise you," I say. "You'll see them again. But until then, we stay here. We lock ourselves in this fortress. And we prepare for what's next."
She doesn't say anything, she just rests her head back on my shoulder.
As I hold her, my mind is already calculating the moves we need to make.
The Volkovs think they can hunt us.
They're wrong.
We're going to burn them to the ground. And now that we're back in Romania, I'm starting with this Cornel motherfucker.
29
ELENA
Morning light comes through the window, soft and golden, in shades I haven't seen in eighteen months.
I blink awake slowly, my body heavy with the kind of sleep that comes only when you're finally, truly safe.
Adrian is beside me, his left arm strapped across his body in the sling. The white bandages only have a hint of dried blood now.
Even in sleep, he looks tense, jaw tight, brow furrowed. The man doesn't know how to rest, not really.
We didn't do much after the doctor and nurse left. Just stayed in this room together. Lucian and Victor came to check on him and told him they had some business to look into and that we didn't need to worry about anything. "The house is in full lockdown, men stationed everywhere," Lucian had said.
Once they left, we ordered food. Adrian made sure I got my papana?i, and I don't think I've ever inhaled a dessert so fast. The fried dough melted on my tongue, the sour cream and jam bursting with flavor I'd dreamt about. I don't even think Adrian managed to have any. He just watched me eat with this quietsmile, like seeing me happy was enough for him, which I was happy about because, honestly, I didn't want to share it.
I stretch carefully, and Adrian stirs beside me. His eyes shift beneath his lids, and I freeze. I don't want to wake him. I can't imagine what being shot feels like, but I'm pretty sure rest is what's needed.
I sit up gently and look around the bedroom. The traditional old furniture, the paintings of the Romanian countryside, it's all so familiar. I've slept in this room so many times. I've had Adrian sneak in here so many times when we stayed during the summers, his hand over my mouth to keep me quiet as we fucked in the dark.
I like thinking about those memories, the happy ones. My mind has about a year-and-a-half gap between them, so it's nice to start having them again.
I stand and walk over to the window and look outside. The houses and trees stretch out before me, the rooftops of Bra?ov dotted with red brick and chimneys.
I'm home.
I'm truly home.
I'm never leaving this city. Never again.
A soft knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts.
I grab the robe hanging over the chair and put it on, tying the belt loosely around my waist, and walk over to the door.
I turn the handle and gently open it.
"Buna diminea?a. I'm here to check the stitches," the doctor says, nodding to me, a bag in his hand.