The final truth sent hot tears down my cheeks. I dipped my head so Ronan couldn’t see them. My fingers slipped farther down the mirror as I cried for an uncertain future and for a man fucking me physically and emotionally. Ronan went still for a second before slowly tilting my head up so he could see my reflection. A smudged mirror. Red-tinted tears streaked paths through the dried blood on my face. Inked fingers collared my throat. “Fuck.” He pulled out of me, turned me around, and framed my face with his hands. “Did I hurt you?” I shook my head. “I don’t mean just physically, Mila.” His words burned the backs of my eyes, and I shook my head again. “Why the tears?” Throat thick, I simply lifted a shoulder, biting my lip to hold in the sudden urge to sob, but the gentleness of his hands on my face broke me like a dam. With a rough noise, Ronan pushed my face against his chest. “I’ve never met a woman who cries as much as you. You’re like a faucet.” He let me sob into his chest for a long time. When the tears faded, he asked, “Is this about your papa?” I swallowed. “Some of it.” “The rest?” I didn’t want to think of my father/mother/murder situation, so I avoided it. “Ivan hates me now .. .” It went silent for a second, but he waited for me to continue, somehow knowing there was more. “I always wanted family . . . siblings.” My voice was thick with emotion. “And it sounds like they hate me too.” A single tear escaped. Ronan tipped my chin to meet his eyes, brushing away the tear with a thumb. “Lions don’t lose sleep over the opinions of sheep.” My body quieted, every cell in me soaking up his words and leaving a weightlessness behind. He was being decent again, but I didn’t complain this time. It was too late for that. I loved his black and his gray and every shade in between. I loved him so much it was embedded in my skin. I loved him, and even knowing I would lose him, it felt like my heart would simply stop if I didn’t tell him.