Updated Apr 20, 2026 • ~4 min read
Chapter 26: The Ring
Riot
Two months after Viktor’s death, Riot wakes up in Nadia’s bed—their bed, he’s allowed to think now—and watches her sleep with the same sense of wonder that hits him every morning when he realizes this is actually real, she actually chose him, they actually survived.
She’s been healing in the weeks since the warehouse, slowly working through twelve years of trauma with a therapist and letting Riot support her through the nightmares and the panic attacks and the moments when the weight of everything becomes too much. And Riot’s been there for all of it, exactly the way he promised, holding her when she needs it and giving her space when she doesn’t and learning that protecting someone you love means more than just keeping them physically safe.
It means being patient.
It means listening.
It means standing beside them while they rebuild themselves from the ground up.
“You’re staring again,” Nadia murmurs without opening her eyes, and there’s affection in her voice that makes Riot’s chest warm. “What time is it?”
“Early,” Riot says, pulling her closer. “I have a question.”
“If it’s about breakfast, the answer is yes, I want waffles.” She’s smiling now, eyes still closed, completely relaxed in a way that would have been impossible two months ago.
“It’s not about breakfast,” Riot says, and his heart is hammering because he’s been planning this for weeks, waiting for the right moment, making sure she’s actually ready. “Though I will make you waffles after you answer it.”
That gets her eyes open, and she looks at him with curiosity and maybe a hint of suspicion. “What’s the question?”
Riot reaches into the nightstand drawer, pulls out the small velvet box he’s been hiding there for three days waiting for the perfect moment, and watches Nadia’s expression shift from curious to shocked.
“Riot—”
“You told me to ask again when you’re safe,” he says, opening the box to reveal the ring he spent a ridiculous amount of time picking out—simple platinum band with a single diamond, elegant and perfect and absolutely her. “You’re safe now, Nadia. Viktor’s dead, the mob’s dismantled, you’re free. So I’m asking again.”
He gets out of bed, drops to one knee beside it despite the fact that they’re both naked and this is possibly the least romantic setting for a proposal in history, and asks the question that’s been living in his chest since the morning of the operation:
“Marry me. Not because you need protection or because circumstances forced us together, but because you love me and I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life making sure you never doubt that you’re the most important thing in my world. Marry me, Nadia Volkov. Choose me. Choose us. Choose forever.”
Nadia’s crying—happy tears this time, he’s learned to recognize the difference—and her hands are shaking as she reaches for him.
“Yes,” she says, her voice breaking on the word. “Yes, yes, forever yes.”
Riot slides the ring onto her finger with hands that aren’t quite steady, and when Nadia pulls him back into bed and kisses him like maybe she’s trying to communicate everything she’s feeling through touch, he thinks: *This is what winning feels like.*
Not the mission success or the threat eliminated or the client kept alive.
This—Nadia saying yes, choosing him, trusting him with her forever—this is the victory that actually matters.
“I love you,” she says against his mouth, and Riot can feel her smiling through the kiss. “I love you so much it terrifies me, and I want to marry you and build a life with you and figure out what happily ever after looks like when we’re both too stubborn to give up on it.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Riot promises, and makes love to his fiancée while the sunrise streams through the windows and the rest of their lives stretches out before them like an open road.
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