“It will be,” I promise. “I’ve already executed all of his co-conspirators, including the men in my organization who were helping him. I only left him alive as an example to anyone else who would ever try to hurt me. Or take what’s mine.”
She looks at me sharply then, her face softening just a fraction.
“What does that mean for us, then?” she asks slowly. “You always said this marriage was just to keep me safe. The threat is gone now, right?”
My heart sinks. If she wants this to be over, I can’t stop her from walking out.
“I’d never make you stay where you don’t want to be,” I tell her. “I’d never treat you the way Kostya did. You aren’t a pawn to me, Alina. You never were. From the moment I met you in that elevator, you’ve intrigued me in a way that was too dangerous to ignore.”
Her eyes fill with tears again, but I can’t remotely tell what she’s thinking.
“I know why you kept the baby a secret. It hurts, but I get it. You didn’t trust me to protect you, and why should you? It’s my fault you were in this mess at all.”
I stand and take a tentative step forward. She doesn’t move away, so I take that as a good sign.
“But you should know that my feelings for you were always real. From the very first moment. I’ve tried my damnedest to fight them off. I’ve tried to tell myself that loving you is a weakness I can’t afford. Truthfully, though, I don’t think I can afford to lose you. Not ever. I love you, Alina.”
A quiet sob rips through her and she swipes at the tears already falling down her cheeks. I take another step and she meets me in the middle, falling into my arms.
“You have to stop being so controlling,” she says through her tears, clutching at the lapel of my tuxedo. “You have to give mesome breathing room, and you have to trust me. Otherwise, we don’t have a chance in hell.”
I kiss her then. I can’t help it. She is more than I ever hoped for, and more than I ever thought I’d get in this life. I kiss her because I love her more than I thought was possible. Our mouths feel magnetized, our breath starting to come in shallow spurts as we lose ourselves in one another.
“You’re my wife,” I tell her. “My queen. I will do whatever I have to do to make this work. I will take any chance you’ll give me.”
“Then you’d better take me to bed, husband,” she says huskily against my lips.
EPILOGUE I
ALINA
Two Years Later
The first thing Drey does when we walk through the zoo gates is try to run away from us. Of course. He takes off in a full-body determined toddler sprint toward absolute freedom, tiny sneakers slapping wildly against the concrete while he shrieks in excitement.
“Drey,” I call, already laughing even as I hurry after him. “You have to wait for Mommy and Daddy!”
He doesn’t wait, of course. At fifteen months old, he is fearless, loud, and entirely convinced the world exists for him to explore at top speed. The fact that the world also contains danger has never once crossed his mind, and I pray every night it won’t for a long time yet.
Andrei catches him easily, pulling him into his arms as he squirms and cries to get away from him. Andrei stops his tearswith a quick tickle to his belly that makes Drey let out a loud round of laughter.
I slow to a stop a few feet away, breathless and smiling, watching them happily. I ignore the guards who hover just a few feet away, ready to step in at the slightest sign of danger. That’s why I don’t worry when Drey has his rambunctious spurts of energy. These men would rather die than let anything happen to our son. Death might actually be a relief compared to what Andrei would do if they allowed Drey to come in contact with any real danger.
“You run like you’re being chased,” Andrei tells Drey in Russian, voice low and amused as he settles the baby more securely against his chest.
Drey responds by patting his face with sticky hands and saying something that sounds suspiciously like “chase me,” though he’s not really proficient in words yet. His words are all still very babyish, and mostly imitations of what he hears us say. He also gets extra confused by his father’s Russian.
I finally reach them and brush a curl off the back of Drey’s neck, unable to stop touching him even after all this time. I’m obsessed with my boy. From the moment he came into this world, I never want to be away from him.
Even after twenty-seven hours of endless labor. Motherhood started a little rough, and he was not a happy boy when he arrived. He screamed and screamed for what felt like weeks. My father moved in with us for a few months to help out, and Kendra came as much as she possibly could. Andrei employed no less than five nannies.
Then, one day while Andrei was at work and I was completely exhausted, I tried one last-ditch effort. I sang to him this oldRussian lullaby that my dad used to sing to me when I was a little girl. He looked up at me with these big, brown eyes, and gave me the world’s most beautiful smile.
At least, that’s how I choose to remember it. It could have been gas.
Ever since, Drey has been a perfect boy. He’s big like his dad. He’s in theninety-ninth percentile for height and weight already, and he never stops moving. From the moment he took his first step, he cannot be contained. He definitely keeps us all on our toes.
“Elephants,” I say softly, pointing toward the path ahead where a small crowd has gathered near the railing.
