Every time I look at her, disbelief follows me, as it still hasn’t fully settled in my chest yet.
Despite having every opportunity to, she hasn’t run away from me, or from this.
Instead, she has brought me into the fold, enmeshing me with her family.
After losing mine, I managed to gain another, against all odds.
Roman sits at the head of the table, as expected, composed yet a bit looser than I’ve ever seen him. It helps that his wife, Victoria, is nearby, bringing up various topics that make his eyes gleam with interest, proving even a man like himself can be warmed by the right person.
Lily is next to Mikhail while he balances Anya in his lap since she refused to stay in her own seat with the other children,and neither of them is willing to deny her. They both smile and chuckle quietly at the little one’s antics, and every so often, Lily glances at me, both like she’s confirming I’m really there and taking pride in knowing I get to share these moments too.
Everything about this gathering feels so simple, yet far more tender than I ever expected. Something in me is still afraid it might dissolve into the silent solitude I grew far too used to.
As food comes out, conversations flow far more easily than anticipated. Everyone’s laughter feels real, and not sharpened with any kind of hidden agenda. With his arm draped over Kat’s shoulder casually, Sergey chats with Patch, who decided to tag along with Parker as a change of pace. It’s a strange scene for me to take in, yet there’s something strangely wholesome about it.
Eventually, as more wine is poured, Roman tells a story about a deal that went sideways when he was a young up-and-comer, and Elena groans to herself as she leans back in her seat, her shoulder grazing mine.
“I’ve heard this one a million times already.”
Victoria snorts. “We all have.”
“And yet he still has so many more to tell,” Mikhail muses into his glass.
“The best stories are evergreen,” Roman says, grinning rather than scowling for once.
“Or your old age is catching up to you, and you just can’t remember what ones you’ve told,” Nikolai muses, earning himself a wave of amusement that makes him pull a vaguely proud smile.
Sipping from my glass, I watch them as something unfamiliar moves in my chest.
I’ve spent so long lacking in moments like this, either surrounded by people who took orders from me or who were waiting for the chance to strike. In a way, this is surreal to me.
Eventually, Lily leans a bit closer. “You look like you’re thinking too hard.”
“It’s a habit,” I tell her quietly, not wanting to interrupt the others.
She studies me for a moment, then smiles softly. “You don’t have to, you know. Not now.”
I mirror her expression, feeling the slightest tension around the edges. Habits can be hard for me to drop. “I’m working on it.”
For a while, everything about the meal is far more normal than it should be. Plates gradually empty, along with glasses, and Elena’s hand finds mine beneath the table, thumb tracing slow, absentminded circles against my skin.
I stay keenly aware of it, of her, and the fact that this is more than I’ve ever asked for. Maybe even more than I deserve, but I know she’d argue it if I were to say that part out loud.
When everyone is full and satisfied, and Victoria, Lily, and Kat sit around with the kids at their table, Roman clears his throat, and it’s enough to draw everyone’s focus to him. The private room grows a bit more tense.
“There’s something we need to discuss,” he says, tone careful and vaguely stern. “I was informed that Yuri Balakin escaped lockup two nights ago.”
The words hit, and everyone freezes.
Elena’s brothers don’t hide the grim expressions on their faces, and Sergey’s eyes darken especially. I tighten my grip on my glass, jaw clenching before I can stop it.
The Balakins, while always a threat even with Yuri in lockup, have been quiet for far too long, and with him back in the picture again, who knows what they’ll have planned.
“Our guys are still working out how he managed to escape, but we do know it was a coordinated effort somehow. Which means he’s alive and still dangerous.”
The mood around the table becomes even more gloomy, as we all know what that could mean.
“Orlando’s sons are still at large, too,” Mikhail adds with a slow scrub of his hand down his chin. “They weren’t located after they disappeared from the rooftop. They’re lying low, but they won’t stay that way for long.”
