Her lips curve into a smile that makes heat pool low in my stomach despite the circumstances. "Possessive even now?"
"Always." I settle into the chair beside her bed, my hand finding hers and threading our fingers together. "You're stuck with me,Solnyshka."
She falls asleep within minutes, her breathing evening out, her face relaxing into peace I rarely see when she's awake. I watch her for a long time, my heart thumping in my chest.
Then I turn my attention to Alexei, to the miracle sleeping in that bassinet. My son. The future I'm responsible for shaping. The weight of it should terrify me, but instead I feel something close to peace settling in my bones.
The drive home two days later is the most careful I've ever been behind the wheel. My knuckles are white against the steering wheel as I navigate traffic with precious cargo, every other driver suddenly a potential threat. Aria sits in the back beside Alexei's car seat, her hand resting protectively on his tiny foot.
"You're going fifteen miles under the speed limit," she says, amusement coloring her voice.
"I'm being cautious."
"You're being paranoid."
"Same thing." But I ease up on the brake slightly, trusting that the universe won't take this from me now.
That first night home, I watch Aria nurse our son in the master bedroom's soft lamplight. She's wearing one of my shirts again, the fabric hanging loose around her shoulders, and the sight makes my chest ache with emotions I never thought I'd feel. They don't make me weak, I realize. They make me even stronger than I was. Alexei latches with surprising efficiency, his tiny hand curling against her breast, and I'm struck by how natural she looks doing this.
"Come here," she says softly, patting the bed beside her.
I settle against the headboard, and she leans into me, her body warm and solid against my side. Alexei continues nursing, oblivious to the magnitude of this moment, and I wrap my arm around both of them.
This is what I fought for. This is worth everything.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, Cyril's name flashing across the screen. I reach for it automatically, years of habit making the movement instinctive, but Aria's hand catches my wrist.
"Let it wait," she murmurs. "Just for tonight."
I set the phone back down without checking the message, and the simple act feels revolutionary. The Pakhan who never ignores his organization, who's always three steps ahead and calculating threats, choosing his family over everything else.
Alexei finishes nursing and falls asleep against Aria's chest, his tiny body going limp with satisfaction. She shifts him carefully, and I take him from her arms, cradling him against my chest while she adjusts her shirt.
His weight settles against me, and I feel his heartbeat steady and strong beneath my palm. This child will grow up in my world, will learn the rules and the violence and the careful balance between power and survival. But he'll also know love, know that his father would burn empires to keep him safe.
53
EPILOGUE
ARIA
Two Years Later…
The yacht's deck feels different beneath my feet this time. Solid. Safe. A far cry from the storm-tossed chaos that brought us here nearly three years ago. I grip the railing and watch the island emerge from the morning mist like a memory made solid, and my heart constricts with the weight of everything that's changed.
Everything and nothing all at once.
Nikolai's hand finds the small of my back, his touch sending electricity arcing through my nerve endings despite marriage and countless nights tangled together. Some things never change. The way my body responds to him, the heat that floods through me when those ice-blue eyes lock onto mine, the possessive certainty in his touch that should irritate me but doesn't.
"Second thoughts?" His accent wraps around the English words in a way that still does things to my pulse.
"About coming back here?" I lean into his solid warmth, breathing in the scent of his cologne mixed with salt air. "No. About leaving Alexei for a week? Maybe."
His laugh is rough, genuine. "Lara has raised more children than either of us can count. Our son is in excellent hands."
I know he's right. Lara Utkina has become the grandmother Alexei will never have through blood, doting on him with a tenderness that contradicts everything I know about her ruthless efficiency in the Bratva world. But leaving my two-year-old for the first time makes my chest ache with an emptiness I wasn't prepared for.
"He'll be fine," Nikolai murmurs against my temple, reading my thoughts with the ease of long practice. "And we deserve this. A proper honeymoon."
