Chapter 137

[MIA]

I woke up to footsteps. My "stranger danger" instincts were seriously lacking; instead of pretending to be asleep, my eyes flew open. Alex was leaning over me in the dim light.

"Alex?" I blinked, relief washing over me even in my half-conscious state. I sat up, switched on the night lamp, and looked at his face. "You're here."

"I'm sorry I woke you, cupcake," he said, sounding tired and weary.

"Alex…" I breathed, rubbing my thumb over his jaw, taking in his condition. "There's blood on your shirt."

"Not mine."

"What's wrong?" I asked, my heart sinking. "You left."

"I'm sorry, baby," he said, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles.

"What's wrong? Why did you leave?" I repeated.

"I couldn't lie next to you knowing the men who attacked you were still out there," he said cautiously, watching my expression.

"Why did you leave me here? You should have taken me with you," I whispered.

"To a war zone?" he retorted softly. "Am I crazy? You were safe here."

I'm safe with you, I wanted to say, but I didn't. "You're back."

He nodded. "I found them."

I gasped. "How?"

"May or may not have invaded their Italian hideout," he smiled. "Found every man matching your description, got the culprit identified by Dom, and then I took the next flight to you."

"Dominic's awake?" I focused on the only positive. "He's going to be okay?"

"Woke up two days ago, and he's officially out of danger as of yesterday."

"Oh," I said, happy tears welling up. "That's good." We both made it out alive.

Alex wiped away my tears. "You decide what we do with those men, baby," he said. "It's time to go home."

I remained withdrawn for the next day. Alex tried talking to me, but I was unresponsive. I slept on the plane, in his jet's bedroom, and stared out the car window after we landed.

Alex eventually took my hand, and I leaned closer, finding comfort in him.

We reached our destination two hours later. The amount of blood on the streets leading to it was shocking.

I gulped, speaking for the first time in a long time. "You did all of this?"

"Most of it," he replied, without remorse. "The entire Bratva helped."

"They all helped?" I asked softly. "Your uncle must not have been happy."

"Why do you think that?"

"He didn't seem to like me much when you took me to his house."

"He may not approve of our marriage, but that doesn't change the fact that you're my wife. That makes you one of us. And we take attacks on any of us personally," Alex reassured me as the car turned a corner.

One of us. One of them. I was part of the Bratva now.

I held Alex's hand tighter as we got out of the car and he led me into the warehouse. Hundreds of soldiers with rifles straightened, some saluting Alex. He acknowledged them, keeping me close.

"Don't be scared, okay?" he whispered. "They're too beaten up to talk. And I'm with you. I'd give my life a hundred times before letting anyone touch a hair on your head again. You know that, right?"

I nodded, breathing deeply to control my emotions.

"Yours," Alex said, handing me a gun from under his vest. "It's loaded."

"I thought I'd be safe inside?" I whispered, taking the gun with trembling hands.

"You are," he promised. "This is just for my peace of mind."

I nodded, gripping his hand tighter, and we entered.

The men were inside: bloodied, bound, chained, suffering—just like I had been. My strength drained away as tears filled my eyes. Even twenty-four hours hadn't prepared me for this.

My hands shook as I held the gun in one hand and Alex in the other.

"You decide if they live, and how they live," Alex assured me.

"Can they—can they even see us?" I asked. They were so badly beaten I could barely see their faces. I wouldn't have recognized them if their faces weren't etched into my nightmares.

A tear rolled down my cheek as I stared at the ginger-haired one. The weight of his body on mine, his touch on my breasts, his hand on his penis, his desperate attempts to touch me—it all haunted me. It plagued me. It consumed me.

I didn't hear Alex's reply. For a moment, it was just me and that man. I didn't realize I'd raised the gun until gunshots echoed, blood oozing from his abdomen, the same spot where he'd shot Dominic. I couldn't stop. I aimed for his penis next.

His body thudded to the ground, and I stared at him through blurred vision. Alex pulled me away before I could process anything. He walked me out of the room where I'd killed my first man.

Six hours later, after a long shower, Alex brought me coffee. "Are you okay?" he asked. "Is it bad that I don't feel guilty?"

"It isn't," he replied, kissing my forehead. "If you hadn't done that, I would have."

"Can I—can I visit Dominic?"

Alex looked surprised but nodded. "I'll arrange something tomorrow morning," he said. "That is, if you want to stay here another night. If you want to go back to the city, to my parents' house, we can do that too."

I considered my options. "I want to see Dominic."

"Very well," he smiled. "And after that? Stay here or leave?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Your life is here. Your work is here. How long can we stay there?"

"As long as that place makes you happier than this, you can stay there, Mia."

"I can stay there? Not you?"

Alex smiled faintly. He took my hands. "Mia…" he breathed, "I'm your culprit just as much as those men are."

"What?"

"You… you were right," he nodded reluctantly. "I always took what I wanted from you. Never gave you a choice."

"Alex, what?"

"Please let me," he interrupted. "I… I hope you know my threats towards Jenny were empty. You loved her enough to stay with me even though you despised me, and I hoped to God you loved her enough to marry me."

"Alex…"

"I didn't kill your best friend or her family. I didn't tell you the truth because I was scared the mystery would be over and you would leave me." He chuckled.

"I got selfish," he continued. "I… I wanted you when I really shouldn't have. This isn't the kind of world you marry and fall in love in, or worse, bring children into. And I selfishly wanted it all with you."

I blinked, my voice breaking. "You want kids?"

"Wanted," he corrected. "With you."

"But I'm still here?"

"No," he shook his head sadly. "I took too many decisions away from you. I forced you into too much you didn't want."

"Alex," fear gripped me. "What are you saying?"

"Mia," he said reluctantly, "I'll divorce you. If that's what you still want, I'll let you go."