It’s not just snow and the struggle of acclimating to a whole new culture she’ll be dealing with. It’s power plays and secret meetings and a family history soaked in blood. It’s living under Maksim’s roof, which means living under the Antonov name, and that’s not a guest list you can just politely back out of once you’re tired of the party.
She stands then, shifting around the piles surrounding me to drop down to her knees. When she pulls me in for a hug, it’s tight and fierce. “Wherever you go, I want to go. Period. I don’t care what danger lies ahead. I’m not letting you walk out of my life again.”
Tears burn the backs of my eyes. I cling to her, my throat tight. “You’re sure?”
She pulls back, studying my face. “Absolutely.”
Relief loosens my chest. “Okay.”
Her eyes sparkle again, mischief returning. “Yes! Oh, I’m so pumped. Mom and Dad are going to freak out, but whatever. I can’t wait!”
She bounds out of my room quickly after that, leaving Maksim and me alone once again. I sag into him when he offers his arms to me, letting myself be pulled in and settled against his chest as his fingers glide through the ends of my hair.
“You okay with her coming?” I ask.
He chuckles. “Yes. I’m sure she will fit right in. Katya will be thrilled to have someone to verbally spar with who isn’t afraid to give it right back.”
“True.” If anyone is brave enough to stand up to someone like Katya, it’s my damn sister.
I let out a soft exhale. As scary as building a new future is, I’m looking forward to it.
I dream of this exact scene but in Russia—my parents exchanging wine recommendations with the kitchen staff, Lettie rolling her eyes at Maksim’s overprotectiveness as she comes home from a second date, Leo running through sprawling halls and his laughter echoing along the walls, Maksim standing at the center of it all, his hand at my back, his eyes soft when they land on me.
The picture blooms so vividly in my mind, it steals my breath away. I press a hand to my chest, feeling my heart beat hard against my palm.
For the first time, the thought of change doesn’t terrify me.
It fills me with hope.
30
MAKSIM
Lettie is practically glowing the way she talks about Russia.
So much so that you’d think she’s been dreaming of living there all her life. She chatters about fur coats, and “hot men with accents”, and how she’ll finally get to live out some fantasy novel she’s convinced exists only on Moscow’s streets.
Ivy keeps swatting her ideas down, trying to keep her sister’s expectations realistic, but I see the way her shoulders loosen just a little each time Lettie laughs and expresses how happy she is about coming with us. Her sister’s enthusiasm, ridiculous as it is, softens her anxiety. And for that, I am grateful.
Their parents, however, are another story.
The announcement doesn’t go over well at all. No amount of explanations will erase their—rightfully earned—anxiety. But Lettie’s enthusiasm is hard to curb. Her joy plants a seed of possibility of this new future looking bright. Even Ivy,though she doesn’t say it outright, seems steadier with her sister standing firmly at her side.
It takes several days to get everything in order.
I use those days to call in favors, sending word to Moscow about our return. My jet crew, my security detail, my household staff, they all prepare for my and Ivy’s homecoming.
And underneath all of that is my inner circle. They work in the shadows in tandem with the staff, keeping things in check in my absence. In Russia, time cannot stand still. My enemies will be watching, waiting for any sign of weakness. I must arrive with my family at my back or not at all.
Ivy spends her hours tending to smaller things—packing her possessions, settling her affairs, ensuring our son has his favorite things he insists must come along. It is domestic and ordinary, but for her, I know it feels like the end of something and the beginning of a new journey she is also eager to start.
When the day comes, we arrive at the private hangar, the car’s tires crunching across the tarmac. The jet waits for us, sleek and silver, its nose pointed like an arrow toward the horizon.
Leo presses his nose to the window, squealing. “That’s what we’re going to take?”
“It is,” I confirm, the corners of my mouth ticking up in amusement.
We board quickly, the crew moving around us in efficient silence. Ivy keeps Leo close, her hand firm on his shoulder, as Lettie trails after her, eyes wandering around as she takesit all in. I trail behind them, my thoughts already consumed by what must come next.
