I stare at the image until it blurs, and know that I must make a choice.
Brother or lover. Blood family or chosen family.
Ethan's broken fingers or Mila's trauma.
My salvation or my damnation.
I slide down the wall and sit there in the dark hallway, phone clutched in shaking hands, and weep.
I don’t know how long I stay there crying, but I realize I no longer have any choice but to tell Lev the truth.
Without a second thought, I force my feet to start moving towards Lev’s room. When I slip in, I allow my eyes to rake through his beautiful form, knowing this may be the last time I will see him this peaceful.
"Lev." My voice barely above a whisper.
He opens his eyes and looks at me, confused, then quickly sits up. “Is Mila okay? Did she have another nightmare?”
"No, no, Mila is fine. But I need to tell you something."
Relief washes over him, and then he mutters, "tomorrow."
"It can't wait until tomorrow."
Silence.
Then he rolls over to face me. His expression is blank. Unreadable. "What is it?"
This is it. No going back.
My hands are shaking so badly that I have to clasp them together. "I need to tell you the truth. About everything. About why I'm really here."
His eyes narrow slightly. "Go on."
"My father… Viktor Novak, he didn't just owe money to criminals." The words tumble out faster now, unstoppable. "He was an informant. Working for Patrick O'Rourke. Feeding him information on Bratva operations. On you."
Lev goes completely still.
Well, shit, here goes.
"Patrick killed him right in front of my family and me. Shot him in the head because he gave bad intel that cost Patrick men and money." I'm crying now, can't help it. "And then Patrick said my father's debts were transferred to the family. Said if I didn't finish what my father started, he'd kill my mom and my brother."
"Finish it?" Lev's voice is dangerously quiet.
"Yes, by spying on you." The confession tears out. "He got me the job through Marina Petrov's agency. Told me to gather intel, schedules, locations, security protocols, anything I could find. Said every piece of information was worth my brother and mother’s life."
I pull out the burner phone with shaking hands. Show him the messages. The photos of Ethan beaten and bloody. Patrick's threats in stark black text.
"He has my brother. Has been torturing him for weeks because I stopped sending information. Because I—" My voice breaks completely. "Because I fell for you. Because I couldn't keep betraying you. Because Mila deserves better and you deserve better and I'm so fucking sorry…"
Lev doesn't move. Doesn't speak. Just stares at the phone in my hands.
I keep talking, desperate to fill the silence. "I know this is unforgivable. I know you should kill me for this. I know I don't deserve mercy or help or anything except a bullet. But please—" I grab his hand, hold it tight. "Please, Lev, I need you to save my brother. He's seventeen. He didn't do anything wrong. This isn't his fault. Patrick's going to kill him if I don't send updated information, and I can't—I can't do that to you, can't get you killed, can't hurt Mila like that."
Nothing. He says nothing.
His hand in mine is rigid. Every muscle locked tight. His jaw is clenched so hard I can see it working. His eyes are flat. Dead. Cold as winter.
But he's not moving. Not speaking. Not reacting.