I chew my lip, uncertainty twisting every thought. “I should be grateful I got this much. It’s more than I ever expected.”
“Charlotte.” Her voice sharpens just enough to make me meet her eye. “Gratitude doesn’t mean forfeiting your heart. You love your daughter. You love her father, or you’re on the verge of it. Those things deserve to be spoken out loud.”
My breath shakes.
“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” I whisper.
“What if he never felt otherwise?” she counters gently.
I stare down at my hands, knuckles white around the blanket. “I don’t know how to start.”
Sophia squeezes again. “Start simple. Tell him what you told me. That you can’t imagine a future that doesn’t include the two of them.”
A silence settles, thick and trembling. My heart beats faster just thinking about the conversation.
Sophia stands, gathering the flowers and arranging them in a crystal vase by the window. “You’re stronger than you think,” she says without looking away from the petals she adjusts. “And for what it’s worth? I don’t believe Vitali ever intended to let you go.”
My pulse lurches. “Why would you say that?”
“Because,” she smiles, warm and secretive, “I’ve seen the way he watches you. Like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he blinks.”
I blink now, tears sliding freely down my face.
Happy, terrified, hopeful tears.
Sophia steps closer again, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
“You’re family now,” she whispers. “And family…doesn’t get returned after six months.”
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“I’ll talk to him,” I breathe.
“Excellent.” She presses a kiss to my cheek. “And until then, just hold that baby and let yourself feel everything. And message me when she wakes up so I can get my first aunty cuddles.”
I look at the bassinet again, at the tiny miracle that changed everything, and for the first time since waking, the panic loosens just enough to let love take the lead.
Vitali
I have never feared anything. Not blood, betrayal or bullets.
But this…this neat stack of legal bullshit staring back at me from the middle of my desk?
This terrifies me.
I drop into my chair and drag both hands through my hair, staring at the page where her signature curves, elegant and hopeful, like she didn’t know she’d be signing her way into my heart.
Like I didn’t know I’d be signing away mine.
All she wanted was a chance at studying. A life with possibilities. Purpose outside survival. She never asked for obsession or devotion or possession.
The door clicks open and Yury walks in. My uncle. My Pakhan. The man who forced me to breed an heir because he got itchy about lineage.
“Congratulations,” he says, slapping a hand onto my shoulder. “She’s perfect. And Charlotte, she is strong. You chose well.”
I nod once. My throat is too full to speak.
Yury notices the contract. Frowns. “What’s wrong?”
