Alina
Two Years Later
The air smells of diamonds and expensive perfume as Alexei and I move through the glittering hotel ballroom, mingling with friends and foes alike, establishing new connections while strengthening old ones.
When we’re done with obligatory rounds, we stop by the refreshment table, where we run into a pair of Japanese businessmen who want to talk my ear off about my new videogaming venture.
I wasn’t expecting much when I released my game for free six months ago. I was hoping some people would enjoy it, of course, but I knew that the story was too simple, the graphics too basic to have a broad appeal.
I was wrong.
The game took off.
Immediately.
Apparently, something about it—maybe its very simplicity—evoked nostalgia in gamers old and young alike. In posts that quickly went viral, reviewers raved about how it was simultaneously like Sonic the Hedgehog, Donkey Kong, and Doom, with a dash of The Legend of Zelda.
True, I was inspired by all of those, but I didn’t think my game was anywhere near the same level.
At Alexei’s urging, I made a few small upgrades and released a paid version. People bought it. Lots of people. And that’s when the big guys took an interest in my one-woman venture.
Offers poured in.
With the help of Alexei and my brothers, I evaluated them all and decided to do it on my own, so I hired a small team and am developing a sequel that will be released next year on all the major platforms.
It’s everything my teenage self dreamed about, and I still have to pinch myself that this is my life right now.
The only fly in the ointment—and it’s more of an Asian giant hornet—is Alexei’s categorical refusal to let me get pregnant.
Even though my doctors have cleared me, even though each scan I’ve undergone has confirmed that my cancer is in remission, my husband is convinced that I’ll die if we try to have a child.
The only reason he hasn’t gotten a vasectomy thus far is that I threw a huge fit when I learned that he’d scheduled one. It took a major fight and lots of tears, but I convinced him to let me get a nonhormonal IUD instead.
I still have hope, though. One day, the IUD will come out, and in the meantime, Alexei has started therapy alongside me.
It’s not a magic fix for either of us, but maybe one day in the intermediate future, he won’t automatically think of his mother’s death when I bring up wanting a child.
And if not… well, he did tell me he’s not averse to surrogacy or adoption.
I’m politely listening to the Japanese businessmen tell me why I should let them invest in my company when I spot Konstantin entering the ballroom. I immediately excuse myself and pull Alexei in his direction.
My husband comes reluctantly. For a couple of months after my brothers’ attack on our mansion, he refused to have any contact with my family, but slowly, he’s come around.
The men in my life are still deeply mistrustful around each other, but my brothers have accepted the fact that I’m with Alexei of my own free will and have stopped all “rescue” attempts.
Though Valery did let me know discreetly that if I ever change my mind about my husband, he has a plan to get me out. Because of course he does.
As we approach my oldest brother, I’m surprised to see a woman at his side.
More of a girl, I realize as we get closer. Slim and brown-haired, she’s maybe twenty-two years old, max, though it’s possible she looks younger than she is due to her petite stature and delicate facial features that combine in a strikingly cute way with her unusually thick dark eyebrows.
“Arielle, this is Alina, my sister, and Alexei, her husband,” Konstantin says in English as we stop in front of them. His amber eyes glint a silent warning at us from behind his glasses—a warning that is echoed by the way he wraps his arm around her back, resting his hand possessively on her hip.
Ookay. This is unexpected, to say the least. I try to remember if I’ve ever seen Konstantin with a woman—or anyone—and I draw a blank. To the best of my knowledge, my oldest brother has never dated, preferring computers to people. Until this Arielle… whose gray eyes hold a peculiar wariness.
I push my confusion aside and smile widely. “It’s nice to meet you, Arielle,” I say in English, as presumably, that’s the language Konstantin’s date is most comfortable with. “Do you reside here in Moscow?”
“I’m… staying here for a while,” she replies, her American accent clear. There’s a fractional hesitation in her voice, a slight flicker in her eyes before she looks at Konstantin, as if for confirmation.
He gives an almost imperceptible nod.
Arielle then continues. “I’m actually from New York—well, New Jersey, if you know where that is.”
“I do,” I say. “I went to Columbia.”
“Oh!” She brightens. “So you’re practically a New Yorker.”
Konstantin observes our exchange with intense focus.
What is his deal? Is he afraid I’ll be mean to his girlfriend, if that’s what she is?
I would never, and he should know that, but to put him at ease, I smile even wider and chat her up about all things New York and New Jersey.
In the process, I find out that she’s just finished college and is heading to law school, so I was right about her age.
She’s way too young for Konstantin, who recently turned thirty-five, but I’m glad my brother is interested in someone… even if something about their dynamic feels a bit off.
Alexei is largely silent as we speak—he often lets me take the lead in social situations, especially those that involve my family—but he doesn’t step away, not even when acquaintances try to get his attention.
Even now, two years into our marriage, he’s scarily obsessed with me.
When we’re out in public, he almost never leaves my side, which is probably for the best, as his possessiveness knows no bounds.
A drunk politician who hit on me at a New Year’s party disappeared suspiciously soon after the incident, and when I confronted Alexei about it, he neither admitted nor denied his involvement.
Needless to say, no man dares to so much as look at me an extra second too long these days.
I’m telling Arielle about our plans to go to Thailand next week—among other things, to visit Birgit, whose arrest in Geneva turned out to be a story made up by my brothers to facilitate my “rescue”—when Valery approaches our group.
Strangely, he frowns when he sees Arielle, a rare expression of emotion for my youngest brother.
“Konstantin,” Valery says, his gaze lingering on the girl for a moment too long. “I see you brought your… visitor.”
Konstantin’s arm tightens around her back. “My guest.”
“Of course.” Valery’s cool smile reveals nothing. “It’s nice to see you again, Arielle.”
Huh. So Valery has already met her? Why am I just finding out about her then? And why does it feel like there’s something not quite right here?
Arielle inclines her head in greeting but doesn’t say anything. Instead, she tells Konstantin that she has to use the bathroom, and he immediately leads her away, as usual not bothering with such social niceties as goodbyes.
I don’t waste the opportunity. Grabbing Valery’s sleeve, I lean in and whisper-hiss, “Who is she? What’s her deal? How long has Konstantin been with her?”
Valery glances at Alexei before returning his attention to me. “It’s a bit… complicated.”
“In what way?” Alexei asks, draping a possessive arm around my back. His dark eyes narrow. “Anything that could blow back on us?”
I blink. I wasn’t even thinking in that direction—but of course, Alexei’s mind would immediately jump to that possibility, though I can’t imagine what kind of danger Konstantin’s date could possibly pose to us.
To my surprise, Valery doesn’t laugh off the question. “Hopefully not,” he says and excuses himself to go greet some business acquaintances.
I let him go reluctantly. I’ll have to get him alone later, or better yet, corner Konstantin.
Unfortunately, I don’t get a chance. A few minutes later, I spot Konstantin leading Arielle to the exit, his hand a constant, guiding pressure on her back.
I watch them go, a chill creeping down my spine despite the warmth of the ballroom. There’s definitely something off about the way Konstantin is with Arielle. His manner with her seems almost… controlling. That tiny nod—it wasn’t encouragement. It was permission.
I’m suddenly reminded of the early days of my relationship with Alexei.
But no. That can’t be. Konstantin wouldn’t do that to a woman. He’s not a typical Molotov. Or a typical man, for that matter.
Maybe he and Arielle simply had a fight, and that’s what I picked up on.
Either way, I put it out of my mind for now and resolve to talk to Valery about it later.
We stay at the party for another half hour before we head home—the mansion we rebuilt after my brothers’ attack.
It’s now more of a fortress than ever, with a mixture of high- and low-tech security measures providing redundancies upon redundancies that would be next-to-impossible to overcome.
It’s also the most comfortable place I’ve ever lived in, with everything laid out and furnished exactly as I like it.
Alexei gave me free rein in that regard, and I surprised myself by having a lot of fun setting up our home.
I even added a little nursery that adjoins our bedroom and decorated it in gender-neutral colors, though a part of me is still convinced we’re going to have a girl one day… one way or another.
Outside, the snow is falling again, white flakes shimmering like tiny stars under the streetlights as our car winds its way through the busy city streets, with Alexei’s most trusted guard behind the wheel.
I cuddle against Alexei in the back, enjoying the warmth of his big body as I breathe in his familiar winter-forest-and-leather scent.
He truly is my everything, this terrible, beautiful man whom I feared for so long—and now love beyond all measure.
As if hearing my thoughts, Alexei inhales deeply and brings my hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle with such tender reverence that my eyes burn and my breath catches in my chest.
“I love you, Alinyonok,” he says quietly when I pull back to meet his gaze. “So fucking much.”
It’s not the first time he’s said it—that happened a month after my brothers’ misguided “rescue” attempt, in the aftermath of a particularly mind-blowing sex session— but each time, the words hit me anew. Because he knows how much love can hurt, and he’s still choosing to embrace it.
To embrace me, even though I’d pushed him away for so long.
In response, I lean in, and he crushes his lips to mine. The kiss is as savage as it is tender—a brand of ownership I now welcome, a vow of a future I now crave.
It’s a promise of what awaits me not just when we get home, but for the rest of our lives.
For years, his obsession was a prison I fought to escape. But as he pulls away, his dark eyes holding mine, I know I was wrong. The fortress he built around me was never a cage. It was a sanctuary.
And the monster who rules it is not my captor.
He is my guardian.
My beginning and my end.
Thank you for following Alina and Alexei’s beautiful, twisted romance. Their story may be over, but the Molotov saga is far from finished. ;)