I reach up, tracing the line of his jaw. "I've missed you too. Missed this." I drop my hand to the front of his trousers and palm the hardness I find there.
"I need to tell you something," Leon says, regret clouding his face.
Something in his tone makes me tense. "What?"
"Valentin made a move. Three months ago."
My blood goes cold. "What?"
"You were seven months pregnant. I didn't want to worry you." His arms tighten around me. "He sent someone to the estate. To get to you."
"Leon—"
"He didn't get close." His voice is calm, matter-of-fact. "Slav caught him at the perimeter. But it was a message. Valentin was testing our security. Seeing if he could still reach you."
I press closer to him, my heart racing. "What happened?"
"We handled it." The coldness in those three words tells me everything I need to know. "Yury gave the order. Avros and I... dealt with Valentin personally."
"Dealt with?" I whisper.
"He won't be a problem anymore." Leon pulls back enough to look at me. "He won't be anyone's problem anymore."
Relief courses through me, alarming me as much as anything. That shows how much I’ve changed in the last year. Arms deals, money laundering, killing people who threaten what’s theirs…it’s all what being part of the family means.
"You're sure we’re safe?"
"I'm sure." He cups my face. "You're safe. Niko is safe. The threat is gone and a message was sent."
"Why didn't you tell me at the time?"
"Because you were pregnant with our son. Because you were already dealing with enough. Because..." He hesitates. "Because I didn't want you to be afraid in your own home."
"I wouldn't have been afraid." I cover his hands with mine. "Not with you here."
"Florrie—"
"I mean it." I hold his gaze. "A year ago, maybe. But now? I know what you're capable of. I know what this family is capable of. And I know you would burn the world down before you let anyone hurt us."
Something fierce and possessive flares in his eyes. "Damn right I would."
"So no more keeping things from me." I lift my chin. "I'm not fragile. I'm a Dubovich wife. I can handle it."
Pride flashes across his face. "Yes, you are. And yes, you can."
He kisses me then, deep and claiming, and I sink into it. This man who saved my life. Who made me his. Who gave me a son and a family and a purpose I never knew I needed.
When we pull apart, I smile. "You know what else I can handle?"
"What?"
"You. Now. All of you."
His eyes go dark. "Careful,moya krasotka. You're playing with fire."
"Good thing I can handle the heat."
Nikolai makes a small sound in his sleep, and we both freeze, watching. But he settles again, still dreaming whatever babies dream about.
