“Wonder where she gets that from,” Vincent says dryly.
The back door opens and Vera emerges, carrying a tray of snacks for the kids. Even after seven years of marriage, two children, and countless challenges faced together, my breath still catches when I see her.
She’s more beautiful now than ever. She’s strong, confident, and happy, comfortable in her own skin in a way she wasn’t when we first married.
She catches my eye and smiles—that private smile that’s just for me—and I cross to her to help with the tray.
“Lunch is almost ready,” she tells me. “It’s going to be chaotic with both families here.”
“It’s always chaos,” I respond, kissing her temple. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She laughs and calls the children for their snack, and I watch as Mila and Mikhail abandon their fort construction to race toward their mother.
This is my life now. Snacks and fort-building and sibling squabbles and family dinners.
And I love every second of it.
An hour later, the estate is indeed in chaos.
The dining room is packed. The Volkov side—my remaining cousins, my most trusted men who’ve become like brothers, and their wives and children. The Ashford side—Vincent, Elena, and Marcus, Vera’s sisters, Lydia and Natasha who are home for a weekend from college, and various aunts and uncles and cousins.
Two families that were once sworn enemies, now gathered together for Sunday dinner like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
The noise level is incredible. Conversations overlapping, children laughing and running between tables, the clatter of dishes and silverware. It’s warm and loud and chaotic and perfect.
Mila sits next to me, telling me an elaborate story about something that happened at school involving her friend Anna and a frog that got loose in the classroom. I listen with the same attention I give to business negotiations, because making her feel heard and valued is very important to me.
Mikhail is on Vera’s lap across from us, getting more food on his face than in his mouth, and she’s laughing as she tries to wipe him clean.
“And then Mrs. Peterson screamed,” Mila continues, her blue eyes wide with remembered excitement, “and the frog jumped on Aiden’s desk and Aiden fell off his chair.”
“That sounds very dramatic,” I say seriously.
Mila nods, pleased with my reaction. “It was! And then I caught the frog and put him in the terrarium because nobody else would do it.”
I draw her close to me in a hug. “You were very brave,moya dochka,” I tell her.
She beams at the praise. “That’s what Anna said. She said I was the bravest person in the whole class.”
I kiss the top of her head. “I think Anna is right.”
Vincent stands then, tapping his glass for attention. The room gradually quiets, all eyes turning to him.
“Seven years ago,” he begins, and I know where this is going. Vincent’s annual toast has become a tradition. “I made a deal I thought would save my family. I gave my daughter to a man I believed was a monster in a marriage meant to end a war.”
The room is completely silent now, and even the children have stopped fidgeting.
“I was wrong about so many things.” He looks at me with genuine affection. “Dimitri isn’t a monster, except for when we’re playing cards.” Light laughter at that, and I roll my eyes. Vincent is just a sore loser. “He’s a good man,” Vincent continues, “a great leader, and…” His voice roughens. “He’s the best thing that ever happened to my daughter.”
Vera’s hand finds mine under the table.
“And Vera,” Vincent continues, “my brave, strong daughter who took an impossible situation and turned it into somethingbeautiful. Together, they’ve built a family, an alliance, and a peace that I hope lasts for generations.”
He raises his glass, eyes shining. “To Dimitri and Vera and the family they’ve created. Proof that even from darkness, light can grow.”
“To Dimitri and Vera!” the room echoes, glasses raised.
I squeeze Vera’s hand and she squeezes back, and we share a look that says everything we can’t say out loud.
