He laughs—that rare, genuine laugh that transforms his whole face—and pulls me into his arms.
"No take-backs," he agrees. "You're stuck with me now."
I snuggle into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against my cheek.
"I can think of worse fates."
We lie there for a while, not speaking, just existing together in the golden morning light. His hand finds my belly again, resting there with a tenderness that makes my heart ache.
"We should start thinking about names," he says.
"Already?"
"Why not? We have a few months. Might as well be prepared."
I consider this. Names. For our child. The child we made together, in the middle of chaos and violence and impossible circumstances.
"If it's a girl," I say slowly, "I'd like to name her Maria. After your mother."
His hand stills on my stomach. When I look up at him, his eyes are bright with emotion.
"Maria," he repeats. "She would have liked that."
"And if it's a boy?"
He's quiet for a moment. "Alex. After my father."
"Alex Kashkin." I test the name on my tongue. "Maria Kashkin. They sound like good names."
"They sound like family names."
"They are family names." I press a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. "Our family."
He holds me tighter, and I feel the tremor that runs through him—the emotion he's still learning to express, still learning to feel.
"Our family," he echoes.
Outside, the sun climbs higher in the sky. The estate comes to life around us—guards changing shifts, staff beginning their routines, the endless machinery of Misha's world continuing to turn.
But in this room, in this bed, there's only us.
A man and a woman, learning to love each other.
A ring on my finger.
A child growing in my belly.
And a future that, for the first time, feels like something to look forward to.
Epilogue - Bianca
Three Months Later
The morning light filters through lace curtains, soft and golden.
I stand before the full-length mirror in the bedroom that has become ours, staring at my reflection. The woman looking back at me is someone I barely recognize—not because she's wearing an elegant champagne-colored dress that flows over her six-month belly, but because of what's in her eyes.
Peace. Hope. A fierce, quiet joy.
