I take it, and a breath along with it. The room narrows to a tunnel with only one person at the end of it.
“Ivy.” I kick back from my chair and bend down to the floor. My knee hits the cold marble with a soft sound. Leo’s scooped up into Ivy’s lap, her arms wrapped around him tightly while she stares at me.
“I loved you before I knew how to call it that,” I say, eyes locked on hers, the words spilling out like they’ve been dying to come out for years. “I’ve loved you in every moment you weren’t near. I’ve loved you in the ache of missing you. In the rage of losing you. And every second since I found you again. Whatever comes, I will protect you. I will protect Leo. I will protect what we have together because I was born to be yours.”
Her eyes shine. Leo practically vibrates in her lap, bursting with the urge to babble while barely containing it. I’m proud of him for giving us this, letting his mother and I have our moment together without interruption.
I open the box. The ring catches candlelight, casting rainbow halos all around us. “So, Ivy Bennett… will you marry me?”
Tears spill and she laughs through them, nodding so fast her earrings bounce. “Yes, Of course, yes.”
Leo throws his arms up. “Yaaaay!!”
I slide the ring onto her finger, which fits perfectly.
The waitstaff clap, one of them bringing over a dessert plate we didn’t order because tradition insists sugar must always finish a celebration. Leo devours half of his piece of cake in one bite and then says very importantly that he is not tired, which is how I know he is.
Ivy kisses our son when he inevitably sags into her once the sugar high crashes. She kisses me too, and this one has the same yes in it as the ring. We end up back where we began—at the car and then, eventually, back at the estate.
Inside, the lights are dim.
To my surprise, Luka is standing in the foyer when we arrive, hands tucked behind his back as he waits. He is alone, which is how I know the news isn’t life-threatening. Even so, my suspicion is piqued.
“Upstairs,” I murmur to Ivy. “I’ll be up in ten minutes.”
Her mouth opens to ask, then closes. She squeezes my fingers. “Don’t take too long.”
I watch her climb, memorize the swing of her hips, the line of her curves, the ring flashing briefly when she touches the banister as she carries our son up to his room. When she vanishes around the landing, I turn to Luka and tilt my head toward the study.
We don’t speak until the door shuts. He doesn’t sit and I don’t offer him a chair to do so. He sets a small bundle he’d been carrying under his arm onto the desk, one that looks oddly familiar.
“Alisa,” is all he says.
I glance down at it before looking back at him. “What about her?”
“She resigned.” He taps the bundle. “Access cards, burner phones, contacts book. She told me if you were interested in speaking to her about this, she would not be reachable.”
I stare at the bundle again in surprise. “More details would be nice, Luka.”
He shrugs, sliding both hands into his pockets. “She says she cannot watch this Bratva crumble again. Refused to be part of rebuilding a house on a foundation she no longer trusts.”
I nearly snort at the irony. “Did she say where she’s going?”
He shakes his head. “No. She implied somewhere warm, though. Something about palm trees if I had to take a guess…”
I rub my thumb over a corner of the desk until the wood warms under skin. A nervous habit I’ve never quite broken from being a teenager sitting behind this same desk with my father. “And you?”
Luka’s mouth does a small thing that might be a frown or an attempt not to make one. “I’m not interested in leaving at the current moment,Pakhan.Though… I won’t promise my mind won’t change in the future. I’m… quite curious to see what you’ll turn this Bratva into.”
Not exactly the answer I want to hear, though it’s not a bad one, either. Luka, for all of his oddities, has always been relatively honest. It’s a trait I appreciate, even when I don’t care to hear the truth at times. “Thank you for telling me tonight.”
“She didn’t ask me to bring all of this to you, but I wanted you to hear it first,” he says, which is his way of saying his loyalty is still alive and well. From anyone else, that would comfort me.
Coming from him is a different story.
I nod once. “Get some sleep.”
He leaves as quietly as he arrived, pulling the door closed with him. I wait another thirty seconds, then pick up the phone on the desk and press the line that will wake only one man.
