Epilogue I
Anya
“A lexander feels like such a fitting name,” Zoya says as she holds my newborn baby in her arms. “It really suits him.”
He’s bundled up in soft white cotton, sound asleep in his great-grandmother’s arms. She’s comfortable in the rocking chair Nico so lovingly carved precisely for moments like this. We’re out on the front porch. The late summer heat has made its way up our mountain ridge.
“He has our eyes,” I tell Zoya. “Don’t you think?”
“He does. And he is perfect, Anya. Congratulations. And I must say, you were brave to birth him at home.”
“I thought all the women in the Asimov family birthed at home,” I reply, slowly shifting in my rattan seat, a mountain of soft pillows keeping me comfortable.
“Your mother lied,” Zoya scoffs. “She had you at the hospital, but you were quick to come.”
“So was Alex. One minute, my water broke, the next, Nico, Chance, and Booker were scrambling to be the first to hold him.”
She looks down at him, then gives me a warm, generous smile. “You look beautiful, my darling. Motherhood suits you.”
“I think the mountain air suits me as well.”
“Oh, it makes a difference. I’m glad everything went so smoothly. The last time I saw you, you were so heavy, always tired. I almost pitied you until I remembered that all the Asimov women are made of steel.”
“I take after you,” I chuckle.
Nico comes out carrying a pitcher of freshly squeezed honey lemonade and ice-filled glasses on a tray for us. “Refreshments.”
“Thank you, Nico,” Zoya says, watching as he sets the tray down on a nearby coffee table and proceeds to pour us each a glass.
I take my glass and kiss him on the lips before the first sip. “Sit with us.”
“Where are the twins?”
I give Nico a wondering look. “I’m curious, too. They knew Zoya was coming today.”
Sergei and Andrei are outside by the rental cruiser, loyally guarding the premises for their boss. It’s nice and quiet up here, though, and the Bratva did keep their word, leaving me out of the loop since the whole Leo debacle.
“They’re on their way up right now,” Nico says. “I asked them to stop by the store and get a few things for dinner.” He looks at Zoya. “I assumed you would join us for dinner.”
“It would be my pleasure, provided you can spare seats for Andrei and Sergei, too.”
“Of course,” I reply. “How is Evgeny?”
Zoya smiles as she continues to rock my perfect little angel in her arms. I wonder if that tuft of dark hair on his cute little head will get darker or lighter as he grows up.
“Evgeny continues to surprise me and exceed my expectations every day,” she says. “Honestly, I didn’t think he would step up with such poise and determination. I figure I’d have the boys break him in a little, but as soon as Evgeny landed in New York, fresh-faced and charming as every Asimov before him, he proved to be just as fierce and resourceful.”
“Oh, really? I’m relieved to hear that,” I reply. “I know the Russians turn into sharks when they smell blood in the water.”
“At his first council meeting, he had Ivan and Lev tripping over each other to take Evgeny under his wing.” Zoya chuckles. “And Tatyana’s daughter, Svetlana, seems taken with the boy. I think it will work out in the end. Despite having been raised away from the Bratva, Evgeny was quick to adapt and fit in.”
“I understand there was a skirmish with some Sokolov leftovers?” Nico asks. “Sheriff Mills has been keeping an eye on things in New York, just to make sure there’s no blowback on Seeley Lake.”
Zoya sighs deeply. “Yes, a former mistress of Max Sokolov tried to stage a coup against Lev Fedorov over a particular piece of Sokolov territory. Evgeny was brilliant in his strategy and avoided bloodshed. She is now rotting in federal prison, while Lev promised to be the godfather to Evgeny’s firstborn son as a show of gratitude.”
“Wow, he’s really getting around then. Good. I’m honestly happy for you, Grandma.”
“Me, too. Maybe this time I can actually retire and enjoy that Hamptons beach house without fearing for my safety,” she grumbles, but one look at baby Alex and she softens yet again. “There is another reason for my visit here, Anya. Not that seeing you and this perfect little creature isn’t reason enough.”
“Oh?”
“How is your art class at the community center going?” Zoya asks.
“Surprisingly well, actually. The sheriff’s niece has been volunteering and keeping the operation going when I’m on maternity leave,” I say. “She’s doing a great job of it, too.”
“I’m relieved to hear that. Perhaps she wouldn’t mind taking over for you for a while longer?”
“Why would she?”
“I did what you asked,” Zoya says, her lips curled into a coy smile. “I used Aleks’s inheritance to put together an art scholarship for a dozen children in need. It covers their full tuition all the way to a master’s degree, should any of them wish to pursue it.”
“Grandma, what does that have to do with me and the community center?”
“The community center will soon receive a hefty donation to continue running without any issues for the next ten years, at least. I set up a charitable foundation in Aleks’s name and put the scholarships and the Seeley Lake community under its purview. It’s my way of trying to get you to say yes.”
“Yes to what?” I nervously laugh. “I’m not coming back to the Bratva, if that’s what you want.”
“She got Evgeny for that,” Nico reminds me.
I shrug. “Which makes me more confused. Grandma, what’s going on?”
“There’s a full ride at the New York Institute of Fine Arts waiting for you, should you want it,” Zoya finally says. “Four years, plus a year’s worth of practice and a Guggenheim novice art show opportunity, just for you.”
I’m stunned. My heart’s about to explode with joy, but the reality of my new life is never too far behind. I want to leap from my seat, but I’ve already made some choices here. Choices I don’t regret for a second.
“Zoya my life is here.”
“It can be anywhere you want it to be,” Nico calmly intercedes.
“Wait, you knew about this?” I gasp.
“It’s not for me to decide, but Zoya did call and talk to us about it before she came here,” he says. “It’s up to you, though.”
“Wait, Booker and Chance are also aware?”
“Yes, my love,” he replies and gently kisses my cheek.
“But our lodge, the baby, the community center…”
Zoya nods slowly. “It’s an option I wanted to bring to you, darling. With everything that happened, you never got to complete your education. I want you to have every opportunity at your fingertips. I want to give you what that Sokolov monster took away from you. And I don’t want you to look back ten or twenty years from now and think you could have done more. You deserve more, and I am proud and honored to be able to provide it. But it is your decision to take this opportunity or not. I will love and support you either way.”
The New York Institute isn’t just an opportunity. It’s a beacon for every aspiring artist. A chance to get on the art scene radar and build an extraordinary career in the field. I’d be connected to every important agent and manager. I’d be showing my work at every major art show and festival all over the world. It’s the golden ticket to real success. This would be my shot.
“Anya, I want you to do what you feel is best for you,” Nico says after a long pause. “And I know Chance and Booker will agree. We’ve already talked about this.”
“You have?”
“Yes. If you decide to stay here, we’ll stay here. If you want to move to New York for this opportunity, we’ll move with you,” Nico says. “You’re a free woman, and you get to decide. But we’re with you, every step of the way.”
Before Dalton, I was looking forward to art school. I’d already been accepted at several colleges and universities. The world was my oyster, and I was about to jump into it head-first.
“We’ll need a big place,” I tell Nico. “I want Alex to have enough room to run around as he would on this mountain.”
“And we can spend our summers here,” he replies.
“The Asimov mansion is yours, of course,” Zoya offers.
I shake my head slowly. “As much as I appreciate it, I don’t want to go back there, except to visit you and Evgeny. Too many bad memories there.”
“Fair enough, though I’m sure there were plenty of good memories, too,” she says.
“There were. I just want to make new memories in new places. A clean canvas for me to paint on.”
I need a deep breath and another sip of lemonade before I look at Nico again. “We’ll discuss the details at dinner, if that’s okay. I want Chance and Booker to be here, too.”
“Of course.”
“I haven’t made my decision yet,” I warn.
“No one is rushing you,” he insists.
Good.
It’s all I needed to hear to make my decision, funnily enough. I watch Alex sleeping in Zoya’s arms for a bit longer, letting Nico hold me as the sun sets over the mountain.