Eliza runs up to me and throws her arms around me. I pull her in closer, nuzzling her hair.
"I’m glad you’re home, Mom," she says.
"I'm glad to be home with you, sweetheart. I missed you. You know you're still my baby, too, right?"
Eliza nods and pulls back to see her new baby brother. She and I had many talks where I assured her I have enough love, time, and attention for both of my children. Nothing is going to change in my daughter’s life, and she won’t be sent into a small room in the attic to become our maid, which she read in a book.
Viktor helps me assure Eliza that she’s still as important as her little brother. I don't know if she fully believes it yet, but between Viktor and me and Suzie, we’ll make sure my daughter—our daughter, because Viktor formally adopted her—never feels like second best.
Suzie comes up to see the baby. She snuggles under Iliya's arm, reaching up on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his cheek. He asked her on a date as soon as we returned home from the warehouse; hekept his promise that if he survived, he would take her out. And now, here they are. It's an odd pairing, but Suzie can do the talking for both of them. And though Iliya's only outward sign of affection is to pull my best friend closer, there's a satisfaction and warmth in his eyes when she's near that warms my heart and says far more than words ever could.
And then there's Clarissa and Peter, two people I never thought I would see here. But Viktor and Iliya forced Marius to tell Peter what he knew—that he and his father had been using Peter and had tried to kill him in the accident that left him with a broken spine and without the use of his legs forever. It had broken Peter to know the cause. But he seems to be trying to put himself back together again in a way I hadn't thought him capable. He's quieter now, not so full of himself or angry all the time. Viktor even told me he joined a wheelchair basketball league.
Will we ever be friends? Probably not. It's the same with Clarissa. At least we can treat each other with respect and be around each other, because our families are connected now.
Two enormous heads push their way through the people crowding around the baby carrier. Athos and Benji do their due diligence, snuffling gently at the new life. The baby wiggles and squeaks, his face scrunching up, but he doesn't wake.
I wonder if he knows just how many protectors he'll have as he grows.
There’s a lot on this little one’s shoulders.
But if there’s one thing I know, Viktor will be a good teacher. Maybe a hard teacher, and one who will expect much, but I know my husband will do his best to prepare our son for the life he was born into.
I excuse myself to the nursery, Viktor, Eliza, and the dogs following us. I leave my son there, after he’s been fed, after Eliza’s taken a turn holding the tiny bundle that is her new brother, but, of course, he’s not alone. He has guards at the door, and the nanny Viktor hired after the most stringent interview and assessment process I’ve ever seen takes my place for the moment. I still have the baby monitor if I want to check in. After some kind of communication between the two dogs, Athos settles by the crib to take watch while Benji escorts us out.
They take both roles as seriously as they did when they walked down the aisle with Iliya, Suzie, and Eliza at our wedding in the spring: Athos and Benjamin Maximus Jellybean James with bow ties and holding flower baskets in their teeth in front of a bunch of hardened Bratva men and leaders, most of whom cracked a smile at the sight.
Viktor is already downstairs, having settled us in, and he’s speaking with Iliya quietly in a corner of the living room, where our small party has congregated. I don’t have that instant spark of anxiety—the Antonov Bratva is back under Viktor’s control, all of Andrei’s supporters weeded out. I didn’t ask how, and I never will.
My husband helps me ease myself down onto the couch, concern or maybe sympathy, creasing his brow as I wince.
“I’m fine,” I tell him with a grateful smile.
“I know. I still don’t like seeing you in pain. But you were a warrior yesterday,” he tells me, caressing the top of my head before handing me a slice of cake decorated with a rubber ducky in bright yellow frosting.
I eat because I’m still starving after sixteen hours of labor. I’m halfway through scarfing it down when Clarissa clears her throat—loudly. I’m afraid she’s going to start some kind of drama when I realize she’s staring pointedly at Peter. His expression is mulish for a heartbeat, an expression I expect. But then his shoulders fall, and he lets out a loud sigh.
“I just—” he starts, falters, then gathers himself. “I want to say I’m sorry. I know I’ve been a terrible person and done terrible things, but I promise I’ll do better. I’m trying to do better,” he adds quietly.
We all sit in stunned silence for a moment, because none of us ever expected words like that to come out of Peter’s mouth. Suzie exchanges a look with me, her eyes widening in a clear exchange ofWhat. The. Hell?
His body language says he’s sincere, especially when he looks directly at me. “And I’m sorry for the way I treated you, Leah. I was terrible to you. I’m starting to see that now, and I don’t like what I see. You were everything I didn’t deserve, and I deserved to lose you. You and Eliza.”
I’m not sure what else to say. His apology means a lot, and it’s a start, even though we have a long way to go until my relationship with Peter is anything but a polite exchange of words.
“Thank you, Peter. I appreciate your words. I really hope you can find happiness.”
“Thank you,” he says quietly.
“Can I get another piece of cake?”
I don’t ask anyone in particular, but three people get up to get me a piece. I bite my lip to hold back the giggle as I watch severalfrightening, scowling men in dark suits fighting to get me a piece of yellow ducky cake.
But it gives me a chance to look around the room, and for a moment, I have a sense of disbelief.
This is my life now. My husband, born into the Russian mob, is a brutal, cold, and deadly man who is terrifying in his role as thepakhanof the Antonov Bratva. But he’s also the man I fell for the first night we spent together, the night I saw this romantic, affectionate man who worships my body and the ground I walk on.
The night the tiny infant on the monitor was conceived, a second child I thought I would never have. A home and a family I never thought Eliza and I would have. Yes, it’s full of dark, scary men, but it’s also full of love, protection, and laughter. Plus, it’s a great way for Eliza and me to learn Russian.
