38. Naomi
38
NAOMI
“ Y ou shot me off a roof!” Picking up the nearest pillow, I launch it across the bed to Fyodor, who laughs and catches it just as it strikes him in the chest. “That’s unforgivable.”
“Are you sure?” He crawls up the bed to meet me, then catches my chin before I can turn away from the incoming kiss. His lips are soft and warm. “I saved your life, remember?”
“Is that what that was?” I tease softly, cupping his face with one hand. My thumb strokes through his soft facial hair and he leans in for another sweet kiss.
“I trusted Zasha to catch you.”
“Which I did,” Zasha remarks from where he lies next to my legs, kissing a sensual path up my inner thigh.
“It makes us even, I think,” Fyodor muses. “Payback since you were spying on me for eight months or so.”
“Hmm.” I hum into the next kiss while Zasha lightly pries my legs apart and settles in between them. His silky soft hair drapes over my thigh and his mouth warms the crease between my thigh and core.
It’s a relief that we can talk about this so lightly now. A week has passed since Fyodor, Daniil, and Zasha mounted a rescue at the island. A week since Ivan died. A week since I was sure my life was over, and they swanned back into my life with a promise to listen. Life is finally good.
We’d sat down and talked everything over for nearly three days straight. Everything was out in the open; every detail of my life had been laid bare in explanation, and they didn’t hate me.
Words cannot describe the constant relief singing in my chest that none of them hate me. There is only love in their hearts and that’s all that matters. Their excitement for my baby, too, is unmatched and I learned a valuable lesson.
Keeping secrets from them doesn’t work.
We’ve all been forced to do horrible things for our parents, and Fyodor decided that if none of them are accountable, then neither am I. Those who came before us all groomed and manipulated each of us in the hope of maintaining power. Now, we’re the only ones left.
“I had a hand in that too, by the way,” Daniil murmurs, and his mouth presses against my throat.
“Mm-hmm.” Sliding one hand into his hair as he kisses down my shoulders, my other follows the weaves of ink across Fyodor’s chest while Zasha’s tongue lazily strokes through my folds.
“You were so impressive up in that big helicopter,” Fyodor snorts.
Flesh impacts flesh as Daniil punches Fyodor in the shoulder and they dissolve into laughter. I close my eyes and let the sound wash over me like gentle music, sinking into the sensation of Zasha’s tongue.
His mouth dances over my skin, teasing my lips apart with kisses and tongue. He licks over me again and again, each time pressing deeper and harder against me. My heart flutters in my chest as Fyodor and Daniil gently cover me in kisses and touches all over my body.
This is heaven. Heaven I earned.
Daniil’s tongue weaves into my mouth, dancing alongside mine. Fyodor’s lips and teeth graze over my nipples and breasts while Zasha presses firmer against my pussy. He suckles, licks, and kisses every inch of me, driving me higher and higher. Pleasure coils hot and tight in my gut and tingles of excitement dance over my naked body.
I’m so in love.
I’m so happy.
I orgasm with a cry that’s lost in between Daniil’s lips and Fyodor’s kisses. They stroke me through it, prolonging the pleasure with all the gentle touches and kisses until I’m utterly spent, then I flop down onto the pillows and puff out a breath.
“Round two?” I ask, smirking lightly.
“I would, but I can’t.” Fyodor kisses me gently and leaps from the bed while Daniil slides a warm arm around my waist.
“Why? What’s the rush?”
As Fyodor pulls on his boxers, he turns to us with a broad smile on his face. “Dariya comes home today.”
Throwing a party for Dariya’s return was the easiest way to show her how much we missed her. Her recovery has been amazing, and while she still has healing to do, Fyodor couldn’t keep her away any longer.
It’s a nice end, I muse to myself while adding a few extra sprinkles to the cake. A nice way to symbolize all of us finally becoming one full family. Zasha included. I was over the moon when he told me Fyodor was absorbing his family at his request, and he was now fully a member of Fyodor’s team. We all get to stay together and I could not have asked for a more fantastic result.
A week ago, I was sure my life was over.
Now, it’s just beginning.
“The cake looks amazing.” Zasha slides up behind me, caresses my sides, and winds his arms around my waist.
“Thank you. You don’t think it’s over the top?”
“What, with the sparkles, the glitter, the rainbow icing, and her full allowance of candy on top?” Zasha chuckles warmly in my ear. “It’s perfect. She’ll love it.”
“Oh, I hope so.” Even as we strive to move forward, some things linger. Like the sight of her dress soaked in blood or the howl of pain from Fyodor. I fear that will stay with me until the end of my days.
“How are you, though?” Zasha’s grip on my waist tightens and he turns me to face him. “How are you really?”
“The past few weeks—hell, months—feel like some kind of insane dream, but this?” I glance around at the garden filled with balloons and streamers of all colors. “It’s nice to know we’re all on the same page. Everything is out in the open now.”
Just as I speak, it reminds me of something Ivan told me, and I touch Zasha’s cheek lightly with my fingertips.
“I’m so sorry, by the way, about your mother. Ivan told me when he was bragging, and I just…I had no idea. I didn’t know both your parents had passed when Fyodor told me about your father.”
Zasha shrugs softly, studying my face as we lock eyes.
“I do not regret killing my father. He was a monster and he deserved it, but my mother’s suicide was…painful. It will take me some more time, I think, to cope with that.”
My brow dips and my teeth sink lightly into my lower lip. Ivan’s mockery of that had been one thing I had yet to bring up to Zasha. I’d told Daniil and asked him to do some digging to see if there was any truth to Ivan’s claims before I broke Zasha’s heart.
As it turned out, the truth was even more painful.
I cup his face with both hands and study his eyes. “Zasha. I learned something when I was with Ivan, and I had Daniil check it because I needed to make sure before I said anything.”
“What is it?” His face turns serious, but his tone remains warm. “You can tell me. You know you can tell me anything.”
“Your mother…her death wasn’t a suicide. Ivan had her killed.”
“What?” He speaks hoarsely, his eyes fluttering.
“Daniil went digging into Vladimir’s stuff, and he found some communication between her and Vladimir after your father’s death. Apparently, they knew each other, and she was seeking comfort. He directed her to Ivan, who pretended to be her friend. Grieving, she confessed to Ivan what you had done. He saw an opportunity, and I’m so sorry, but she was assassinated by someone in your house loyal to Ivan. Ivan hoped that your own people would kill you in retaliation and then your family would crumble to dust, leaving him a step closer to power. In some letters, it’s clear he did not expect you to fight so hard to stay relevant.”
Thank God for old dogs not trusting technology and communicating with a paper trail.
Zasha remains silent. I stroke his cheek and then cradle his head with my fingers buried in his hair.
“In her letters to Ivan, she spoke often of how she loved her son and knew he would always do the right thing to protect people. She never blamed you, and Daniil reckons the suicide note you found was a fake. She was never ashamed of you. She loved you.”
A flash of hurt crosses Zasha’s features, and then he nods very slowly. “I…I do not know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I wanted you to know. I just wanted to make sure I had all the details first.”
“I have carried guilt over her death for two years and it was not mine to carry.” Zasha’s jaw trembles and his eyes shine. He grits his teeth. “Thank you for telling me. Fuck. If Ivan wasn’t already dead I would kill him again.”
“You could always break into prison and kill Vladimir,” I point out gently. Fyodor’s decision to have his father arrested for the shooting at the hospital was a quick and dirty way to get the eyes of the law looking away from the family, but I would sleep easier if that monster was dead.
“I could.” For a moment, he seems to contemplate it, then shakes his head. “No. That man doesn’t have any time left; and having to live with seeing Fyodor—all of us—succeeding is a better punishment.”
I kiss him sweetly on the lips and then on his brow. “Okay. If you need anything, though, I am here for you.”
“Thank you. I love you.”
“I love you too, Zasha.”
He steps away, wandering slowly toward the pool. Daniil appears a second later and slides an arm around my waist. He pulls me away from the buffet table with a grin and plants a deep, powerful kiss on my mouth.
“Hey, lover,” he grins, then glances at Zasha. “What’s wrong with him?”
“I told him about his mother.”
“Oh.” Daniil’s happy face falters for a moment, but it warms my heart to see. We’ve come so far from these men wanting to kill each other.
“He’ll be okay, I think.” I stare at him. Should I have told him sooner? Later? I’m unsure.
“Naomi!” Dariya’s cheery voice reaches my ears. Turning, she comes sprinting from the house, followed by a concerned Fyodor.
“Be careful!” he calls.
Dariya sprints toward me, her hair flying. The moment she reaches me, I bundle her up into a tight hug.
“Dariya! Oh sweetie, look at you!”
Despite her pale skin, her eyes sparkle with warmth, and her smile is as toothy as ever. Fyodor stops a few feet away, and I kiss Dariya on her forehead.
“Daddy told me I’m going to be a big sister!”
“Oh!” I hadn’t been sure when Fyodor was going to tell her that I was pregnant, but her excitement is infectious, and I laugh. “Yes, yes, you are! So you will have to practice being so good and grown up. After some rainbow cake, of course.”
“Rainbow cake?!” She peers past me to the table, then clutches at my hand. “Do you want to see my scar?” Before I can answer, she lifts her T-shirt and shows off the pink surgery scars. It’s alarmingly painful to see them and I wince inwardly, but I keep a smile on my face just for her.
“You’re officially the strongest person I know,” I smile warmly.
“Even stronger than Daddy?”
“Oh, so much stronger than Daddy,” I nod seriously, winking at Fyodor over the top of her head. He’s smiling again, finally—a real smile because his daughter is back, and that’s all that matters.”
“Yay!” Dariya cheers, throwing herself into my arms for a hug. “I love you!”
“I love you too.”
The welcome home party descended into musical chaos, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Food and drink flow, music fills the air, and I dance with Dariya until my calves ache. There are countless presents for her to open, and she beats the life out of a pinata for more candy than she can carry.
It’s beautiful, and my heart soars when I see her happy. Seeing them all happy.
While Dariya puts her whole heart into swinging the bat near the guards, trying to strike the pinata, I drop down onto Daniil’s lap, exhausted.
Fyodor sits on one side of the bench while Zasha has the other. The moment I relax back, three mouths press lightly to my neck and cheek, and we cuddle together, watching Dariya.
“I cannot wait for our little one to do that,” Zasha murmurs.
“Uh, you mean my little one?” Daniil chuckles.
“Oh, you think?” Zasha lifts a brow and one of his hands slides over my abdomen.
“Maybe it’s mine,” Fyodor remarks, his attention on Dariya. “I have strong swimmers.”
“Alright.” I lift both my hands. “Before we get into a dick-measuring competition, how about we all just agree that the baby belongs to all of us, okay?”
“You know what would be better?” Daniil chuckles softly.
“What?” I swivel to face him and he lightly kisses my nose.
“Clearly, we need one each.”
“Two more babies?” My mouth falls open.
“Sounds fair,” Zasha smirks. “One each.”
“Are you all insane?”
“Think of how much we’ll have to fuck you for that to happen,” Fyodor remarks in a low voice.
“You forget how long it takes to grow a human, and if you think I’m going to let you start planning another!” I pout indignantly but it melts when Fyodor kisses my cheek and Zasha kisses my shoulder.
“Whatever happens, happens,” Daniil says.
That’s true.
“I love you guys,” I say, settling back against them all as my mind runs with what it will be like to see another adorable child running around with Dariya.”
“I love you too,” Fyodor, Daniil, and Zasha murmur in unison.
Life in the Bratva is nothing like my mother painted, and I will make sure my baby is raised with the same strength, kindness, and morals that Dariya has.
There will be no lies, no twisted truths, and certainly no outside pressure from the past. This time, I’ll change it. There will be no more generational blame.
Whatever the future holds, I know one thing for sure.
Our life will be beautiful.