“This world scares me,” I murmur through unshed tears. “Hearing about your mother scared me. I didn’t want that for myself, and I don’t want that for my child. I guess I just wanted to leave before my courage left me. I wanted to leave before I decided losing myself was worth it as long as it meant I got to keep you. That’s what scares me most of all.”

His eyes soften as I speak. Maybe there’s a small kernel of understanding there. Maybe I’m just imagining it.

“It’s not so easy to determine what’s right and who to believe when…” I sigh. “When my feelings are involved. And they are involved, Kolya. I didn’t make any secret of the fact that I loved you.”

“Except that you love Adrian, too.”

I shake my head. “You’re not listening. I said I loved Adrian once. And I care about him still. That’s not the same thing.”

He frowns, trying to make sense of a world that’s murkier than ever.

But he stays close to me.

That’s gotta be worth something.

His jaw eases ever so slightly. “The plan was never to kill Iakov, June. At least not there, at Ravil’s gala. He was supposed to survive that night so that I could continue extracting information from him, dangling enough bait in his face to keep him coming back. If I’d wanted him dead, I would have killed him privately, secretly. I would never have killed him the way I did, in front of all those people—if it weren’t for what he did to you.”

My heart does that aching, fluttering thing again. Is it still a lie if you choose to believe it? I guess that just makes it a fairy tale, right? And this is a fairy tale I want to believe so badly.

I want to believe that he’ll kill to keep me safe.

I want to believe that he loves me enough to burn down the world and make it more beautiful for me.

“But—that’s the problem,” I whisper aloud. “I don’t know if I believe you because I should… or because I love you.”

His eyes fracture a little further than they’ve ever gone before. Reaching out, his fingers caress my hip.

I shiver against his touch, desire pooling between my legs. “You’re trying to distract me,” I choke out.

He shakes his head. “I’m trying to remind you.”

“Of what?”

“Of what you already know deep down.” He slides his hand up to my belly, dancing over the life growing inside of me.

He starts unbuttoning his shirt that I’m wearing. But he doesn’t pull it off me. Instead, he just parts it so that he can place his hand on the tiny scars above my chest. The reminders of The Accident that changed everything.

“Some things can’t be faked.”

“Yes, they can,” I retort. “Love blinds.”

“Love doesn’t blind, June,” he argues. “It clears. You just have to drown out all the noise and listen to it. This right now—you and me—it’s right, June. And I think you know that.”