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“As soon as my ovens have been checked.” I crouched and held out my hand. “Only if you want to help.”

He shot a quick, assessing glance at Alina before placing his hand in mine. “I want to.”

Roman cleared his throat. “Your ovens may work sooner than expected.”

I narrowed my eyes and rose. “What did you do?”

He handed me a second folder. “Sokolov paid off an inspector to close the bakery after the auction. We fixed the problem. And Kirill has…upgrades in mind. Actually, they’re already in progress.” Renovation plans waited behind the inspection report that said I could reopen as soon as the renovations were given a final pass. The last page guaranteed that the bakery remained mine, with market rent and every business decision under my control.

Maksim joined us and slid one arm around my waist. “No gifts disguised as restitution. This has always been yours, and it will remain that way.”

I flipped through plans for a new kitchen, an office large enough for an actual chair, and an apartment upstairs that Miss Helen could accept or reject for herself. They’d finally learned how to give me something genuine, and I’d learned to recognize the difference. “If Kirill puts diamonds anywhere near my mixer, I’m deducting them from his casino.”

“Harsh, but fair.” Roman traced my jaw with one finger. “Can I tell him? I really, really need to take him down a peg or two.”

“Be my guest.” I leaned into his touch when Maksim’s arm tightened around me.

Kirill came through the terrace doors carrying the broker file and tossed the papers at the nearest guard. “I leave for twenty minutes, and no one waits for me.”

“You have terrible timing.” I shrugged like it didn’t matter, then laughed when Alina rolled her eyes and took the kids far enough away we had a modicum of privacy. “The children need dinner. After that, I believe I promised to show my appreciation.”

Several hours later, I entered our bedroom wearing a robe and nothing else. Maksim locked the door while Kirill opened my robe and announced that enduring an entire council meeting entitled him to special consideration.

It didn’t, and Maksim proved it when he pulled me close before Kirill made it to my side. I wrapped my legs around Maksim when he lifted me, caught Roman’s hand, and made Kirill follow us to the bed so I could explain exactly how rewards were earned.

EPILOGUE: ANIKA

The anniversary of the masquerade proved to be one hell of a party. I stood beneath the same clock while Maksim argued with Nora about bedtime and Kirill discussed disposing of a body with Nora’s tiny pink purse hanging from his shoulder.

“Nine o’clock means nine o’clock.” Maksim checked his watch as though the hands might come alive support his position. “You’ve already negotiated an extra fifteen minutes.”

Nora planted her sparkly shoes and grabbed my gown’s burgundy skirt. “But, Daddy Maksim, we haven’t taken the family picture.”

Kirill turned away from them and lowered his voice, talking rapid-fire into the phone. Purple glitter covered three fingernails and one knuckle, catching the chandelier light when he adjusted the purse strap. “Move the family first. Then do whatever inspires cooperation.” He listened, then sighed. “If you have to ask whether feeding him to the fish violates our agreement, you aren’t ready for this responsibility.”

Roman stood beside the dessert table with his attention fixed on a tablet. A silver-and-black mask concealed half his face, but nothing could hide the suspicion in the set of his mouth. “Eighty-four cupcakes left the bakery. There are eighty-one on the inventory record.”

“We’re surrounded by murderers and thieves, Sherlock. Pick a crime worth solving.” I stole one of the remaining lemon cupcakes and licked icing from my thumb.

His gaze dropped to the evidence in my hand. “Eighty.”

The ballroom had the same white marble columns, painted ceiling, and giant clock, but it no longer belonged to my worst memory. We owned the hotel now, along with enough of Sokolov’s former territory that no one attending our private ball would mistake it for an ordinary party.

Six years ago, I’d crossed this room wearing my sister’s name and a gown I couldn’t afford. Tonight, every person here knew me by sight and by name. A captain stopped several feet away and waited until I acknowledged him. “We confirmed Petrov used two children to secure their father’s debt.”

The sweetness turned bitter on my tongue. “Move the family before he realizes we know. Cancel the debt and strip every property he controls.”

The captain lowered his head and left.

We hadn’t become decent people. Roman owned judges, Maksim controlled ports by breaking men who refused his terms, and Kirill’s casinos contained rooms that never appeared on building plans. Inside our territory, though, no one sold a woman, trafficked a child, or turned a family into collateral.

Those rules made Nora and me untouchable. Every person in the room knew using either name as leverage meant declaring war on Volkov, Morozov, and Popov at once.

Roman showed me a security image from the kitchen, the timestamp showing the video was taken an hour ago. Mikhail stood beside an open pastry box with red frosting on his mouth. Nora faced the camera with both hands behind her back, while Alina ate the missing third cupcake in full view of the lens.

“Case closed.” I pushed the tablet down. “You can release the suspects.”

“The inventory remains inaccurate.” He frowned at the screen as though someone had stolen from him instead of eating dessert.