Epilogue - Maksim
Planning the perfect proposal for a woman who once told me she’d rather jump off a cliff than trust another man with her heart requires a certain level of irony.
Which is exactly why I’m standing on the edge of a thousand-foot drop in the Swiss Alps, watching Alyssa adjust her paragliding harness.
Three months have passed since we dismantled Troy’s trafficking network, and she’s spent every one of them throwing herself into new adventures like she’s making up for lost time.
“You’re sure about this?” I ask for the third time as I test the straps that connect us together. “Because if we die, I’m going to be very annoyed with you.”
“We’re not going to die,” she assures me as she checks our equipment one final time. “I’ve done this dozens of times.”
“That’s what every overconfident woman says right before she plummets to her death.”
The instructor gives us final directions in heavily accented English while I mentally rehearse the speech I’ve been practicing for weeks. The ring box is in a secured pocket of my harness, and every time I move, I can feel it pressing against my ribs like a reminder of everything I’m about to risk.
“Ready?” the instructor calls out.
Alyssa grins at me with the same fearless smile she wore when she climbed that shipping container months ago. “Let’s fly.”
We run toward the edge together with our feet hitting the ground in synchronized steps until suddenly there’s no ground left. The sensation of falling lasts maybe three seconds before the parachute catches the mountain winds and lifts us into the sky like we weigh nothing at all.
“Holy shit,” I breathe as the Alps spread out beneath us in panoramic glory. “This is incredible.”
She’s pressed against my chest thanks to the tandem harness, and I can feel her heart racing. Below us, the valley floor looks like a child’s toy set, complete with miniature villages and thread-thin rivers that snake through forests of impossible green.
“I told you you’d love it,” she screams, though her voice gets carried away by the wind.
We soar through thermals that lift us higher, then glide over meadows dotted with wildflowers that look like scattered confetti from this altitude. The silence up here feels different from any quiet I’ve ever experienced—not empty, but full of possibility.
“Alyssa,” I say after we’ve been floating for maybe ten minutes, “thank you for this. For everything. These past few months have been…”
“Have been what?”
“Perfect. Terrifying and perfect and everything I never knew I wanted.”
Now. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for.
“Speaking of things you never knew you wanted,” I begin as I maneuver us into a slow spiral that gives me time to reach the ring box without destabilizing our flight, “there’s something I need to ask you.”
“What kind of something?”
I pull the small velvet box from my pocket and hold it where she can see it. The diamond catches the mountain sunlight and throws rainbows across the silk of our parachute, creating the kind of moment that romance novels are written about.
“Maksim, are you—”
“Proposing to you while we’re suspended a thousand feet above the Swiss Alps?
Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.” I open the box to reveal the three-carat emerald-cut diamond I spent weeks selecting.
“Alyssa, you jumped into my life like you jumped off that shipping container—fearlessly, completely, without looking back. You made me believe in things I thought were impossible.”
She twists in the harness to look at me with tears streaming down her face as we continue our lazy descent toward the landing field.
“You taught me the difference between protecting someone and controlling them,” I continue.
“You showed me what it means to trust someone enough to let them make their own choices, even when those choices scare the hell out of me. You’re the strongest, bravest, most stubborn woman I’ve ever met, and I want to spend the rest of my life keeping up with you. ”
“Maksim…”
“Marry me, Alyssa. Be my wife, my partner, my everything. Let me love you for the next fifty years the way I’ve loved you for the past few months—completely, desperately, with everything I have.”
We’re maybe two hundred feet from the ground now, close enough that I can see the landing zone approaching fast. She needs to answer soon, or this proposal is going to end with us tumbling across a Swiss meadow in a tangle of strings and romance.
“Yes,” she replies, laughing and crying at the same time. “Yes, you crazy, wonderful, impossible man. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
I slide the ring onto her finger just as our feet touch the ground, and then we’re running together to slow our momentum before we collapse in a heap of parachute and laughter, and pure joy.
“That was the most ridiculous proposal in history,” she declares as she examines the ring on her hand. “I can’t believe you made me say yes while we were falling out of the sky.”
“You love ridiculous.”
“I love you.”
The words still make my chest fill with something that feels too big for my body to contain. Even after months of hearing her say it, even after proving to each other that this thing between us is real and permanent, I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to being loved by her.
“Come on,” I prompt as I help her out of the tandem harness. “We need to celebrate properly.”
The ride back to our resort takes twenty minutes that feel like hours. Alyssa keeps staring at her engagement ring and making small sounds of amazement, while I try to focus on the mountain roads instead of the dozen different ways I want to show her exactly how much her acceptance means to me.
Our suite overlooks Lake Geneva, complete with a private balcony and a bed that’s been calling my name since we arrived yesterday. The moment the door closes behind us, I have her pressed against it with my mouth on hers and my hands tangling in her hair.
“I love you,” I tell her between kisses. “My fiancée. My future wife.”
“Say it again,” she breathes as her fingers work at the buttons of my shirt.
“Which part?”
“All of it. I want to hear you call me your wife.”
“My wife,” I repeat. “Mrs. Barkov. The woman who’s going to drive me insane for the next fifty years.”
She laughs against my mouth, and the sound goes straight to my cock like it always does. “Only fifty? You’re underestimating me.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to negotiate a longer contract.”
I work the buttons of her blouse as slowly as I can convince myself to go, savoring each inch of skin revealed as the fabric parts under my touch.
The delicate lace of her bra appears, and I trace the edge with my fingertips, watching goosebumps spread across her chest. She shudders beneath my hands, and her breathing becomes more uneven with each passing second.
When her shirt finally falls to the floor, I step back to take in the sight of her. Her breasts rise and fall with quickened breath, and the flush spreading down her neck makes me want to taste every pink inch.
My own shirt follows hers to the floor, and her hands immediately go to work on my belt buckle.
The sound of leather sliding through loops fills the space between us, followed by the whisper of fabric as our remaining clothes disappear piece by piece.
When we’re finally bare, skin against skin with nothing between us but want and love and the knowledge that this is ours now, forever.
“I can’t believe you proposed to me while we were paragliding,” she says as I map the curve of her hip with my palm.
“I wanted it to be memorable.”
“Mission accomplished.” She arches into my touch as I slide my hand across her stomach. “Though I have to admit, it was very you. Dramatic, over the top, completely unnecessary, and absolutely perfect.”
“Just like this,” I murmur before taking her nipple into my mouth.
The taste of her skin floods my senses as I work my tongue around the peaked flesh and draw small gasps from her throat. She holds tight to my shoulders as I lavish attention on first one breast and then the other.
I kiss my way down her body, memorizing the landscape of her ribs, the softness of her belly, and the way she trembles when I press my lips to the sensitive spot just below her navel. Her fingers tangle in my hair, guiding me lower with gentle pressure that speaks louder than words.
When I reach the apex of her thighs, I pause to look up at her. Her green eyes are dark with desire, her lips parted as she watches me with an anticipation that makes my blood burn.
I part her with my thumbs to expose the pink flesh that’s already glistening with arousal. The first touch of my tongue makes her back bow off the bed as her hands fist in the sheets. She tastes like honey and need, like everything I’ve ever wanted distilled into this one perfect moment.
I trace patterns with my tongue that make her writhe beneath me, each stroke designed to drive her higher.
When I slide two fingers inside her, she clenches around me with a moan that makes me even harder.
The combination of my mouth and fingers working together has her trembling on the edge within minutes, but I stop just before she goes over.
“Maksim, please,” she gasps as I kiss my way down her body. “I need you.”
“You have me,” I promise before I settle between her thighs. “All of me, for the rest of our lives.”
What follows is the kind of lovemaking that feels like worship—slow and thorough and reverent, like we’re consecrating vows we haven’t even spoken yet.
I position myself at her entrance with the head of my cock barely breaching her heat as I look into her eyes.
The trust I see there, the love, the complete surrender…
It nearly undoes me before we’ve even begun.
I enter her slowly, inch by agonizing inch, giving her time to adjust to my size.
She’s so tight, so wet, so perfect around me that I have to pause when I’m fully seated to catch my breath.
The feeling of being completely joined with her, of being home in the most elemental way possible, overwhelms every other sensation.
She wraps her legs around my waist and pulls me deeper; it feels like coming home to a place I didn’t know existed.
“My husband,” she whispers as I move within her, setting a rhythm that pushes us both toward something inevitable.
“My wife,” I reply, and the words feel like the most important truth I’ve ever spoken.
We move together with the kind of synchronization that comes from truly knowing someone, from understanding what they need before they ask for it. When her climax builds, I can feel it in the way her body tenses beneath mine, in the breathless sounds she makes against my ear.
Her nails rake down my back as I pick up the pace, leaving marks that will remind me of this moment for days to come. The sound of our bodies moving together fills the room, punctuated by gasps and moans and whispered endearments.
I can feel her climbing toward her peak again from the way her inner walls flutter around me, signaling her approaching climax. I reach between us to find the swollen bundle of nerves at her apex and circle it with my thumb in time with my thrusts.
“Come for me,” I command as I reach between us to touch her where we’re joined. “Let me feel you.”
The combination of my fingers and the angle of my thrusts sends her over the edge with a cry, and she clamps down around me like a vice as her entire body convulses with the orgasm.
She falls apart with my name on her lips, and the feeling of her clenching around me triggers my own release.
I bury my face in her neck as I spill myself inside her, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what we’ve just promised each other.
The climax seems to go on forever, wave after wave of pleasure that leaves us both shaking in its aftermath. When it finally subsides, I collapse beside her and haul her against my chest as we both struggle to catch our breath.
We lie tangled together while the Swiss sunset paints our room in shades of gold and rose. Alyssa traces lazy patterns on my chest while I play with her engagement ring, spinning it around her finger like a talisman.
“So,” she eventually starts, “when should we start planning this wedding?”
“Tomorrow. Next week. Whenever you want. Though my brothers are going to insist on something elaborate.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to be happy. Everything else is just details.”
She tilts her head to look at me, and the love in her green eyes still takes my breath away. “Have I mentioned lately that I’m crazy about you?”
“Show me,” I challenge.
What she shows me next requires another hour and leaves us both thoroughly satisfied and completely exhausted. As we drift toward sleep in each other’s arms, I think about how far we’ve come from that first night at the club when she disappeared.
“Maksim?” Her voice is drowsy with contentment.
“Mmm?”
“What happened to Vincent Moreau? We took down Troy and his operation, but the Serpents’ leader just… vanished.”
The question brings me back to reality, whether I’m ready for it or not. Moreau has been a loose end that’s bothered me for months, though I haven’t wanted to worry Alyssa with concerns about threats that might never materialize.
“He’s unaccounted for,” I admit. “He went underground after we dismantled his network. Could be anywhere by now.”
“Do you think he’ll come after us?”
“Not us specifically. But men like Moreau don’t just disappear forever. Eventually, he’ll surface somewhere, probably trying to rebuild what we destroyed.”
“And when he does?”
“When he does, we’ll be ready for him.”
She nods against my chest, seemingly satisfied with my answer. But as she drifts off to sleep, I make a mental note to increase security around the family estates. Moreau might be gone for now, but snakes have a way of turning up when you least expect them.
For tonight, though, none of that matters. Tonight, I have everything I need right here in my arms—my wife-to-be, my partner, my future. Tomorrow we’ll start planning our wedding, and next week we’ll go home to tell my brothers the good news.
She’s mine now, officially and forever.
And I’m never letting her go.
*****
THE END