I lower my phone to the desk so he can read the messages himself.
“The United States, huh? Bet we’ll see a wedding engagement soon enough. Assuming that’s why she’s being sent. TheFamigliaand another Cosa Nostra family own the US. No other reason for her to be there.” He nudges my phone further away. “You okay?”
“It’s weird; I don’t know whether to be mad or not. She lied to me, but she really was my friend. I only knew her for the last year, yet she’s basically the only one I kept in contact with.”
“Maybe it’s something for the future. Let a year or so pass. Let her settle from what happened and then reach out to her. In the meantime, I’ll keep an eye on anything that comes stateside about her.”
“Might be a good idea.” It’s nowhere near enough, but it’s something. Lev’s correct; maybe with time and her own healing, she’ll come around.
“Yes, and speaking of the future…” He pushes his chair back from the desk, lifts me into his arms, and carries me to the couch while keeping me on his lap. “We should talk about yours.”
All the dread I felt grows heavier in my body.
“My sister not-so-subtly pointed out that you might be worried, and I don’t want you to be. Us being together changes nothing, Fina. Whatever your post-university plans are, I want you to do them. I’ll stand by you. Your brother fought hard to keep you from the life of a mafiaprintessa, and I don’t want you to feel like that’s what you need to be. The Serafina Mancini I fell in love with isn’t a Cosa Nostra robot.”
I never had doubts about Lev’s plans, like I told Zeno in the hospital the other day, but hearing then straight from his mouth prevents future arguments. So, I lean forward to kiss him, only for his chin to lift slightly, blocking me.
“There’s more. I want you…need you…to—if—” Frustration locks his muscles, his gaze moving from me to the TV on the wall. “You’ve changed me, Fina, in all the right ways, but I don’t think I can change more than this. If, one day, you wake up and realize you want someone normal, someone who might want kids…those will never be me. Whatever’s wrong with me isn’t going away. And I don’t think children are for me. The noise, the crying…” He shudders. “When Vanessa eventually pops out her heir, it’s as close as I can get.”
Oh.Oh. I hadn’t thought that far in the future. Lev trying to plan one hundred steps ahead is everything.
I readjust myself until I’m over his lap and his face is between my palms. “One, you’re perfect. Please never change. You’re who I fell in love with, and nothing will ever change that. And two, Lev, I don’t evenlikechildren. They’re messy, annoying, and rude. Like you, I always assumed whoever Z got with would make me an aunt and that’d be enough.”
Relief filters through the brown of his eyes, and then somehow, they soften even more. “I love you, Serafina Mancini. You taught me the definition of the word. I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving myself to you.”
“I love you, Lev Petrov, and don’t need you to prove anything. Just be with me.”
“On my soul…on the heart gripped in your hand, I vow to never leave you.”
Since he’s a man of actions over words, I bring my mouth to his, vowing myself to him in return. To never leave him, to love and protect him…to never weaponize him.
Tobewith him.
Just like this—forever.
EPILOGUE
ANASTASIA
One Week Earlier
After the wedding from literal hell, Zeno drives the rest of us back to his villa, leaving Lev at the hospital with Serafina while she’s healing from the worst honeymoon known to man.
Not that I’d ever admit it to Vanessa, but as I exit out the villa’s back entrance for much-needed fresh air, I consider how Zeno’s place would make a fantastic vacation spot. I adore the Russian landscapes and forest surrounding the Bratva mansion, but the openness of his property is invigorating in other ways.
It isn’t stuffy, reminding me of what it feels like to dance across a stage. No audience, just me and the music, moving to the sound of my mental happy place.
My elbows drop to the railing on while gazing across to the massive pool—also a benefit of this place. Maybe I’ll convince Vanessa to install an indoor pool in the mansion.
My peace only lasts a moment before the back door slides open then shut, heavy steps lumbering outside.
If I remain still, maybe he won’t see me.
Of course, that’d mean he’d be ignoring me, which won’t happen. No, he enjoys obsessively paying me attention for some reason. Maybe because I’m determined not to let it deter me, so he feels more determined to push through my snub.
If I paid him attention, memories I’ve long buried would be dredged up, and life is going too well for that to happen.
He falls against the railing beside me, suit jacket askew, tie undone and hanging limp around his neck—as limp as the bottle dangling between his thumb and forefinger, which he brings up to his mouth and guzzles loudly.
