EPILOGUE
One year later
DINARA
Moscowin late autumn is exactly as I remember: gray skies, biting wind, the Moskva River cutting through the city like a vein. But I’m not the same girl who left here a year ago. So much has changed, thanks to the man sitting beside me.
“You’re nervous,” Kirill observes from beside me. We’re in the back of the car Pavel sent to pick us up from the airport.
I drop my hand from the bird pendant at my throat and shoot him a look. “I’m not nervous.”
“You’ve been fidgeting with your necklace for the past twenty minutes.”
“I’m not nervous. I’m just thinking about how much has changed in my life.” I watch the city slide past the tinted windows. “And now I’m coming back with a husband, a completely different career, and a mother who runs a cartel. It’s wild.”
Kirill’s hand finds mine. “It’s wild in the best possible way.”
The car pulls up to Pavel’s compound and my stomach does a flip. The gates roll open and we drive through, past the manicured grounds and toward the main house where I spent so much time over the past few years.
Before the car even stops, the front door flies open and Papa comes hurrying out, not even bothering with a coat despite the cold. The moment he sees me stepping out of the car, his weathered face breaks into the widest smile.
The look on my father’s face is worth every minute of the fourteen-hour flight.
“Dinochka?” He stares at me like I’m a vision, snowflakes already settling in my hair. “What are you doing here?”
“Surprise?” I grin and launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his barrel chest. “Happy birthday, Papa.”
He crushes me against him, his bushy beard tickling my forehead. “You didn’t have to fly all this way.”
“Of course I did. It’s your birthday.”
When he finally releases me, his eyes are suspiciously bright. Then he notices Kirill behind me, carrying our bags, and his expression shifts into something warmer.
“Kirill. Good to see you, son.”
Son. The word still makes Kirill’s eyes flash with emotion every time Papa uses it.
“Good to see you too, Yarik.”
They shake hands and then Pavel appears in the doorway, looking smug. “Told you I could keep a secret.”
“You knew?” Papa turns to glare at him.
“For weeks.” Pavel grins. “Dinara wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Well, mission accomplished.” Papa pulls me in for another hug. “This is the best gift I could have asked for.”
Hope emerges from the house, Kin trailing behind her, and the next few minutes are a blur of hugs and greetings and Kin demanding to know if we brought him presents from New York.
“Maybe,” I say, ruffling his hair. “If you’ve been good.”
“I’m always good!”
Hope snorts. “Define good.”
We settle into the warmth of the house, shaking off the cold, and making small talk. When we enter the living room, I freeze in place.
Marina’s standing looking out the window. My heart stops. Our eyes meet and she gives me a small smile, something tentative and hopeful.
