Beautiful Forever (Beautiful Sin #4)

Chapter 1

One

The Present

Holy shit.

A huge smile spreads across my face as I look at the rectangular digital display on the white plastic stick sitting on the bathroom vanity, its bold, black letters spelling out the most amazing word: PREGNANT.

I knew there was a reason I started craving pickles dipped in peanut butter again, but even though I was expecting the pee stick to show what I already knew in my heart to be true, I’m still surprised to be knocked up so soon after having the twins.

Splaying my hand over my stomach, I stare at my reflection in the mirror, amazed that a new life is growing inside me. What if it’s twins again? Oh, boy. Guess we’ll find out soon enough.

“Hey, little one…or ones. It’s your mama. I can’t wait to meet you.”

I wake up every morning amazed at the life and the family we’ve built together. And grateful. So fucking grateful for the men I get to share this wonderful journey with.

Bursting to tell someone the happy news, I avoid the temptation to snap a pic and send it to Alana, Raquelle, and Andie.

The guys get to find out first before anyone else, so I hide the pregnancy test inside my tampon box in the cabinet under the sink until I can figure out how I want to announce it.

With a skip in my step and a happy hum, I bounce out of the bathroom, only to stop short when I find Aleksander sitting on the Alaskan King bed, his long legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles, a book in his lap, and wearing those black-rimmed reading glasses I find sexy as fuck.

His gaze flicks up as he turns the page, and I get lost in the soft, silver-gray of his moonlight eyes as they look at me like I’m the only thing that exists in his universe.

“How was your day, my love?” he asks, setting the book to the side.

My insides melt at his endearment, just like they do when he calls me his songbird.

“Better now that I get to see your handsome face.” Kneeling on the mattress at the foot of the bed, I undo the laces of his black leather dress shoes and slip them off his feet, then remove his socks and drop everything onto the floor.

He works too hard, juggling a million responsibilities—us and our family, the Society, the family business he inherited from Nikolai, the stuff he does for the Petrovs.

We’ve been like ships passing in the night, and I’ve barely seen him this week, so the guys took the kids and will make themselves scarce for the next few hours, so I can spend some alone time with Aleksander.

Crawling up the length of his body, I cage him between my legs and curl my hands loosely around his neck. “The twins discovered the joys of playing in the mud at the park today. We had to spray them down with a hose when we got home.”

Sweeping my ponytail over a shoulder, he tenderly tucks a loose curl behind my ear. “I saw some of the evidence when I walked in. There’s a trail of tiny brown footprints going across the foyer tile.”

I lean in and brush my nose against his. “Fair warning. The back seat of the Range Rover is a mess. Hendrix is going to take it in for a full-detail service in the morning.”

“Speaking of, where is everyone?”

“Out. Just you and me and three whole uninterrupted hours.”

He smiles. “I really like the sound of that. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” I place my hand over his chest, feeling the steady beat underneath. Aleksander has a soft, gentle heart, like Constantine. A heart that knows how to love, but one that is also fragile and easy to break.

Clambering off his lap, I motion for him to scoot forward so I can slide in behind him. He settles between the vee of my legs and hums in pleasure when my fingers dig into the tight muscles of his shoulders. “How was your day?”

“Filled with meetings. The boring kind.” His large hands caress up and down my thighs in lazy strokes, but the effect his touch has on me is like throwing a lit match into a lake filled with gasoline.

“Were you writing in your journal?” The book I thought he was reading is actually the brown leather journal I gave to him.

I have boxes filled with journals I’ve kept over the years. The History of Us, I call them. I got Aleksander into journaling last year. It’s a good way to help unload the demons of your trauma. Put them on paper and let the pages be their keepers, not you.

“Reading and reminiscing,” he replies.

“What about?”

“You and me.”

Resting my chin on his shoulder, I kiss his neck, the sandalwood soap he uses every morning in the shower still clinging to his skin. “I like that story.”

He plays with the ends of my hair draped over his chest. “I don’t know if I say it enough because I’m shit with words”—he tips his face—“but I love you, Syn. Madly and deeply.”

My freaking heart melts into a puddle inside my chest. Aleksander has difficulty expressing himself, but he never has to say the words for me to know how much he loves me.

“Grá geal mo croí, m'fhear céile.” You are the bright love of my heart, my husband. Picking up his journal, I set it in his lap. “Read me our love story.”

It hasn’t been an easy one to write, but like with most stories, ours would start with once upon a time. That is usually how fairy tales begin.

But my love story is no fairytale, and I’m definitely not the na?ve damsel in distress waiting for her Prince Charming to rescue her.

I’m a woman who loves more than one man. Three of them are my childhood best friends. Hendrix Knight, Constantine Ferreira, and Tristan Amato.

And then there’s the lonely boy from my youth with soft gray eyes. Tristan’s half brother. The man whose twin I killed. Our former enemy turned ally.

My love story is filled with death and blood, and my Prince Charmings are four brutally beautiful, dangerous men. Men who would drench the world in gasoline, light the match, and smile as they watched it burn.

The five of us are a confusing jumble of mismatched pieces to a puzzle that somehow fit together perfectly.

We’re five souls who were destined to be together, no matter what was thrown at us to keep us apart.

Our love is something that should be impossible, but we’ve managed to shape it into something extraordinary.

I once told Hendrix that he was my freedom, Constantine was my sweet, safe place, and Tristan was my strength.

And Aleksander? Well, that part of my love story is…complicated.

I fell in love with the one person I shouldn’t have.

I tried to stop my heart from jumping off that cliff of no return, but I think Aleksander and I have been on a collision course since the moment he asked me to dance when we were kids.

Just like my heart knew that Tristan, Constantine, and Hendrix were my soulmates, it instinctively knew a piece of itself would always belong to Aleksander.

It’s that damn broken compass inside me, forcing me to travel in the direction of my true north. Apparently, my true north seems to be all four cardinal directions. North, East, South, and West.

You already know most of our story, but in order to understand how Aleksander embedded himself into my heart, we need to start in the past.