When I was five months along, something unexpected happened. Igor's father—the man I'd always seen as selfish and cold—wanted to meet me, Stella, and the baby. I had thought about refusing. But the old Don was Nikolai's grandfather. He was Igor's father. I agreed to see him.
That night I wore a simple, elegant dress. Stella put on a pink princess dress and looked every inch a child. The old Don arrived on time. When the doorbell rang, my heart pounded. Igor opened the door and greeted him in Russian.
"Father," Igor said. "This is Elena, my fiancée."
The old Don's gaze fell on me. I straightened instinctively and kept my hand near my belly.
"Hello, Elena," he said in a low voice thick with a Russian accent. "I've heard a lot about you."
"Hello," I kept my voice steady. "Nice to meet you."
He stepped closer and appraised me, his eyes lingering on my belly.
"Five months?" he asked.
"Yes."
"A boy?"
I nodded.
A small smile flickered across his face. "A Vorontsov heir. Good."
Stella peered around me, shy of the stranger. The old Don's face softened when he saw her.
"This is Stella?" he asked, his tone gentler.
"Yes," Igor said. "Stella, come meet your grandfather."
Stella approached cautiously. "Hello, grandfather."
The old Don crouched to her level, which surprised me. I had expected distance and severity.
"Hello, little one," he said, reaching into his pocket for a small box. "This is for you."
I gave Stella a small nod. She opened it to find a delicate pink kitten diamond necklace.
"It was my choice," the old Don said. Stella's eyes lit up. "Do you like it?"
"I love it, thank you, grandfather!" she said.
He smoothed her hair. Then he turned to me.
"Elena," he said, "I know you had no reason to like me. Five years ago, I forced Igor into a choice that broke things, and I am sorry."
I was stunned. I had never expected an apology from that proud man.
"I was too obsessed with power and the family," he continued. "I thought an arranged tie would strengthen the Vorontsov house. I was wrong. I lost my son's trust. I nearly ruined his happiness."
He paused, his expression raw. "For five years I lived alone in that empty estate and realized what mattered was family."
"Father—" Igor began, moved.
"Let me finish." The old Don raised a hand. "The day Igor took power, I was furious. But later I felt relieved. He was stronger than me. He understood what matters."
He produced another box and handed it to me.
"It's for you. Welcome to the Vorontsov family."
