FIVE MONTHS LATER
Despite all the craziness, life has gone on.
It feels like forever since that day many bodies dropped and crucial decisions were made. Probably because a lot of things have happened since.
Yulia died about two weeks after she fell into a coma. While Konstantin looked sad and Karina had a conflicted expression, Kirill stood at her funeral like a cold statue.
For him, she was already dead, probably had been since he was young. I’m glad he at least got closure when she told him why she hated him with passion. That’s when he learned for sure that she’d never love him or even tolerate him.
Kirill represented everything she abhorred—Roman’s temperament and a constant reminder of the abuse she suffered. But what made it worse was that he also got her intelligence and knack for manipulation.
I still hate that woman with everything in me. She ruined all her children’s lives—Konstantin’s included. Not only did she figuratively choke him with her love, but she also had a hand in his biological father’s death.
If Kirill had a different mother, he wouldn’t have been emotionally or physically abused. At least I’m glad he had Anna in his teens since he considers her the only mother figure in his life.
Kirill also killed Yakov—his maternal uncle. Apparently, he’s the one who helped Yulia with the Makar angle. My husband eliminated him before he could plot revenge or pose a threat to our family.
On the other hand, Maksim took his sweet time recovering. Anton and I were there for him—mostly my brother, though. I stopped being as involved.
One, because Kirill found out that Maks had some sort of a crush on me when I was pretending to be a man and threatened to kill him.
And yes, it was Anton who told him that piece of information because he’s also still inexplicably jealous of it.
Two, turns out Maksim was enjoying being the center of Anton’s attention so much that he might have prolonged his recovery process on purpose.
After he got back into shape, he resigned from Kirill’s team, which my husband welcomed because he’s an asshole who doesn’t even like the idea of a harmless crush.
Now, my brother and my friend are in Russia with Mike. In the beginning, I kept Mike with me, and while he loved it here, he was confused with all the English. Besides, after we went to Russia and saw how carefree he is in my brother’s company, I reluctantly let him stay.
My cousin adores Maks to death—something Anton was annoyed with since everyone seems to love Maks since the first meeting.
I’m glad Mishka spent the first period with me because Anton faced difficulties as soon as he got back to Russia. He had to relinquish the family’s illegal arms to the government and strike a deal with the higher ups. It’s better now, but he’s still cleaning up the mess Uncle Albert made and trying to veer the family’s resources in a safer, more profitable direction.
I was heartbroken when we had to separate, but it wasn’t a goodbye. I FaceTime with them every day, mostly with Maks and Mishka because Anton is still allergic to showing emotions and only joins when he’s forced to.
Besides, I’m sure the three of them will be just fine. They’re starting to look and feel more like a family every time I see them.
Which is so wholesome, considering what every one of them went through. It’s beautiful when the most damaged souls can find solace in one another.
I guess that also applies to Kirill and me.
I stare at him from across the room as he talks with the other organizations’ leaders. The party that’s held to celebrate another win Kirill brought is in full bloom around me, but all I can concentrate on is my husband.
He has a hand in his pocket, and the other cradles a glass of champagne.
Authority looks sexy on him. He was always meant to be at the top, no matter what methods he used. It’s not only about the position with Kirill. He really has a knack for managing people and getting the best out of them.
Besides, he’s never fully satisfied with the lengths he reaches and keeps striking more alliances and ending wars—to Damien’s dismay.
I can’t help being sucked in by my husband’s presence, even from a distance. The tailored tuxedo stretches over his shoulders and puts his impressive agile physique on display.
The nonchalant, seemingly relaxed aura he exudes is only a façade. That man can turn into a lethal weapon in a fraction of a second.
And I don’t know why I find that kind of exhilarating.
It’s probably the hormones. They haven’t gone down, not in the second trimester or this final one.
I’m due to give birth to our boy in about a week, but my bump has never really grown. Kristina, whose husband is feeding her an assortment of buffets, looks well and truly pregnant with a huge belly and a curved posture.
Me? I look like I’m no further along than my fifth or sixth month.
The bump is there, but since I’m wearing a somewhat loose dress, it doesn’t show as much.
The doctor said the difference between Kristina and me could be because everyone carries differently. The good news is that both our babies are healthy and will hopefully grow up as best friends.
They’ll also be heirs to their fathers’ fortunes since Konstantin has been appointed to Kirill’s previous role in the brotherhood. My husband left that position empty after he became Pakhan, but I think he always wanted his brother there. The only reason he didn’t do it before was because he didn’t want Yulia to try and influence Konstantin or get her hands on internal information.
We’re now growing into a big family. I felt it that day when I celebrated Christmas again after nearly seven years of shunning it, but now I’m happy to have this new family.
It’s better than anything I could’ve wished for.
I have two sisters who are not related to me by blood. The quirky Karina, who’s arguing with Viktor in the corner while he ignores her. She’s been in therapy since Yulia died and has been making a lot of progress.
The other unexpected sister is Kristina. We’ve been doing this pregnancy thing together. She’s helped me tremendously, and I wouldn’t have been able to do this without her.
There’s also Anna’s support, Konstantin’s compassion, and even Viktor’s grumpy existence. Not to mention the rest of the guards, who bring me all sorts of exotic fruits and delicious desserts in case I’m craving something.
Those men were and always will be my comrades, despite Kirill’s narrowed eyes and silent threats to eliminate them.
But the most important member of my family is my husband. Sometimes, it scares me how much I love him.
How frightened I am about his well-being and protection.
If he’s ever in danger, I have no doubt that I’ll pull a Maksim and use my body as his human shield. And the best part? I know he’d do the same without hesitation, too.
We spent so much time either suspecting or being wary of one another, so this phase of mutual understanding and trust has been heaven-like.
“Excuse me,” I tell Lia and Rai, then swiftly leave the small circle.
I don’t even blame it on the hormones anymore, I just want my husband.
He says he was traumatized by the two months of thinking I was dead, but I also longed for him to the point of madness—including when I thought I hated him.
Kirill lifts his head, sensing me approaching him even when I’m still far away. His eyes blaze a bright blue color, and he leaves the people he’s with in an instant. After abandoning his glass of champagne on a table, he meets me halfway and wraps an arm around my middle.
My whole body comes alive when I’m in his embrace, and I place a hand on his shoulder, needing to feel his warmth against me.
“You should be resting, Sasha.” He strokes my hair behind my ear. It’s reaching the small of my back now, and while it’s a hassle to wash and style, I’m fine with that as long as he always touches it, whether like this or when he tugs me by it during sex.
We sway to the music while hugging one another. “I’m tired of resting.”
“Your feet were more swollen than usual this morning.”
“That’s normal. I can take it.”
“Well, I can’t. I don’t like it when you’re in pain.”
“I’m not, really.”
He raises a brow. “Yesterday, you were crying because you wanted a glass of water.”
“Yeah, well, it happens.”
“The day before yesterday, you were crying because, and I quote, ‘You aren’t fucking me properly, you fucking bastard.’”
“You were too gentle.”
I really hate how he’s become freaked out about hurting our son or me lately. A few weeks after that incident, the doctor said sex is okay, including rough, but he always takes it easy on me.
Am I wrong for wanting the version from before he found out I was pregnant?
“Looks like I’ve created a monster.” He chuckles. “In all seriousness, I really don’t want you in pain or even strained, Solnyshko.”
“I’m not. Really. The doctor also said it’s okay.” I get on my tiptoes and kiss his stubbled jaw. “You know I love it when you don’t hold back.”
He groans when I rub my belly on his growing erection.
“Sasha…”
“What?” I ask innocently.
“Stop that unless you’re in the mood to get fucked.”
“You know I am.”
He curses under his breath and barely lasts a few seconds before he grabs me by the wrist and drags me to a spare room on the first floor.
It’s more like a sitting room with a few sofas, a coffee table, and a fireplace.
As soon as he closes the door, he pins me against it, and his mouth clashes with mine. Kirill always kisses me with heat and boundless desire, but right now, it’s more animalistic and raw yet also tender.
Ever since I was in the hospital, he’s been kissing me as if he loves me. As if he’s grateful to have me.
Someone like Kirill will always be an authoritarian monster with skewed views of the world, but he makes me feel like I’m the center of his world.
The one person he looks for every morning and hugs to sleep every night.
The one person he tells everything to, whether it’s brotherhood business or his family business.
He didn’t only make me his wife and partner with words but also with his actions.
He also offered me the official position of his counselor if that’s what I want.
Without leaving my lips, he drags me to the sofa and lays me on top, his large hands groping me everywhere. I’m so hypersensitive that I moan from each touch. He pulls back and I’m slammed by the passionate, animalistic look in his eyes.
“I’ve been trying.” He unbuckles his belt and releases his hard cock. “I’ve been really trying to take it easy on you, but you’re making it impossible, Solnyshko.”
I inch up my dress and slide down my panties, then kick them away and part my legs as far as possible. My pussy is throbbing wet as I palm his cheek. “I never asked you to take it easy on me.”
“Is that so?”
I bite his lower lip and then release it with a pop. “Fuck me, Luchik.”
That’s all the invitation he needs as he thrusts all the way inside in one go. I’m tight, and the friction feels so good.
“You want it like this, wife?” he asks against my throat, then bites down. “You want me to fuck you like an animal?”
“Yes, yes…” I hold on to him and jerk my hips.
“You’re driving me fucking insane.” He wraps his hand around my throat and goes deeper, harder, giving me the stimulation I’ve been begging for.
Yes, he gives me orgasms, but mostly by eating me out or stimulating me. He usually doesn’t want to go to these lengths.
If I’d known all I had to do was provoke him, I would’ve done this ages ago.
My legs tense, and I bite onto his neck as I come with a muffled scream. Kirill goes on, pounding into me with delicious intensity until he finds his own peak.
“I love you, Luchik,” I whisper against his neck as we bask in the afterglow.
He runs his finger over the tattoo with his name on it, then kisses my belly. “I love you more, Solnyshko.”
“No way in hell.”
He pulls out, tucks himself back in, and changes positions so that I’m sitting on his lap. He doesn’t care that I’m messing up his pants with the evidence of our pleasure that’s dripping from between my thighs.
“I got your name tattooed on me,” I say.
“Why do you think I have too many suns tattooed on my skin? Besides…” He unbuttons his shirt and traces his fingers over the tattoos he got on top of his gunshot wound.
I lean closer, and my eyes widen. All this time, I thought it was a sun and a skull intertwined with lines, but in the middle of it, I read it loud and clear in Russian.
Solnyshko’s.
Like our rings.
“I also got your name tattooed on me.”
“How…” I swallow. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought you would’ve noticed it by now.”
“I didn’t know it was a word.”
“You do now.”
I lean over and kiss the tattoo, but more the scar from the bullet. “No one will be able to hurt you anymore. I promise.”
“I should be the one who says that, wife.”
“Well, I’m capable of protecting you, too, husband.”
“For now, worry about protecting yourself.” He sits me down on the sofa, then lifts my feet and removes my flats. “See? I told you the swelling had gotten worse.”
Like every day, he places my feet on his lap and rubs them with slow, soothing circles.
I release a contented sigh and lean my head back to enjoy the sensation.
“How many times do I have to tell you that whenever you feel them getting more swollen, let me know, Sasha? If I don’t check regularly, you become like this.”
“It’s okay. They don’t hurt that much.”
He shakes his head and continues with his task for more than fifteen minutes. Once he’s done, he helps me stand up, and I freeze as I feel something wet splashing down my thighs and then onto Kirill’s shoes.
We share a look.
It seems like our little boy is looking forward to seeing us as much as we’re looking forward to seeing him.
We smile as the realization hits us.
We’re officially going to be parents today.
