Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Elena
I stood at the window of the Tuscany studio, watching the familiar cobblestones below and the hills rolling in the distance, and felt a tangle of emotions.
Five years. Five whole years. This town had taken in my broken heart. It had watched Stella be born. It had seen me build Stella from nothing into a brand. Every street, every café, every corner held a memory of me and my daughter.
"Mom, what were you looking at?" Stella ran over and wrapped her arms around my leg.
"The town." I crouched and pulled her into my lap. "We lived here for five years. I'm a little sad to leave. This was our first home. You were born here. You learned to walk here. You spoke your first words here. I built my studio here. I made friends."
"But Daddy and Mommy were born in New York, right?" Stella said seriously. "Daddy says New York has really tall buildings and the Statue of Liberty."
"Yeah." Warmth stirred in my chest. "Your dad and I were both born in New York. It's where we met."
"When are we going to New York? I want to go to where Mom and Dad met!" she squealed.
"In a month," I told her.
Anna would keep running the studio while I moved Stella's headquarters to New York.
It hadn't been an easy decision. Leaving Tuscany meant leaving the comfort and the safe harbor I'd spent five years building.
But staying would mean being apart from Igor, Stella missing her father every day, our family always half a world apart.
Besides, the Stella brand had outgrown Tuscany. Milan, Paris, and London orders were piling up. Staying would choke its growth. New York was the real center—there I could reach more people, bigger markets, better resources.
"Awesome!" Stella cheered. "I'm bringing all my toys."
She bounced off, and I looked down at the corner of the plans where the designer had carved out a tiny nook on the third floor filled with children's furniture, toys, and picture books—a corner for Stella. My fingers lingered over the drawing.
"Elena." Anna came in carrying a stack of files. "These are the New York fit-out plans. They need your signature."
"Let me see." I took the files and sat at the desk.
Igor had bought a three-story building in SoHo, perfect for the brand. Industrial, minimalist, big windows for light, open workspaces for collaboration, and a dedicated showroom for buyers. He'd even insisted on that little children's corner. I had to admit he'd paid attention.
Anna's voice caught. "I'm really going to miss you."
She had been by my side for five years. Her eyes were red. I stood and hugged her. "I'll miss you too. But this isn't goodbye. We'll be back a lot. I trust you to run the studio—you've been my strongest assistant. Without you, there wouldn't be a Stella."
"Really?" she wiped at her eyes.
"Of course." I squeezed her hand. "I need you here the way I need to go to New York. We're a team, right?"
She nodded hard and finally smiled. "We are a team. Go do your thing. I'll take care of this place."
We hugged again, and this time it felt powerful, not sad.
A month later, we landed back in New York. When the plane touched down at Kennedy Airport, my chest tightened. Five years earlier, I had left from this same terminal with a shattered heart and tears in my eyes. Now I came back with my daughter, a successful business, and a man who loved me.
"Welcome home, baby," Igor said, holding my hand.
"I'm back." I let the words sink in.
"Daddy! Mommy! Look at all the tall buildings! They're so much taller than in Tuscany!" Stella pointed out the window, eyes shining. "Are we really living here?"
"Of course," Igor said, lifting her up. "This will be our home."
I stroked Stella's hair. "We're starting a new life here."
The next few weeks were busy and full. I adjusted to a new office, supervised the fit-out, and balanced business on both sides of the ocean.
Stella settled into a new kindergarten, made new friends, and adapted to a new pace.
Igor shouldered more of the load—school runs, helping Stella settle, cooking dinners on nights I worked late.
By then, his cooking could hold its own.
One afternoon at the New York headquarters, I felt lightheaded. My new office looked over SoHo and the Manhattan skyline—familiar and strange at once.
"Elena, the first samples arrived," my new assistant, Sarah, said as she came in. Young, sharp, with a keen fashion instinct.
I inspected the pieces. They were perfect—the new season inspired by the Tuscan countryside: soft tones, clean lines. Buyers were already responding.
"The buyers loved them," Sarah said. "Three department stores want to place orders."
"Good." I let out a breath. It proved the move made sense.
"You don't look well," Sarah hesitated. "Do you want to rest?"
"I'm fine," I lied, though nausea had been nagging since morning. Maybe I was just exhausted.
"Maybe you should go home early," she pressed. "I can handle the rest."
"Okay." I checked the time. "I need to pick up Stella."
At the kindergarten, she ran to me, bright and proud. "Mom! Today we made crafts. I made a little house!"
"Great," I took her hand. "Let's go show Daddy."
"Will Daddy come home early?" she asked.
"He probably will," I answered, though I wasn't sure. Igor was pulled between family matters and business.
Back at the Upper East Side apartment, I suddenly felt dizzy. Stella watched me, worried.
"Mom?" she asked. "Are you okay?"
"Fine." I steadied myself against the wall. "Just tired. I'll lie down for a bit."
"I'll get you water."
"No, go play." I forced a smile. "Mom just needs a little rest."
I closed the bedroom door and lay down, but the nausea hit harder, and I ran to the bathroom and vomited.
Damn it. What was going on?
After washing my face, I stared at my reflection—pale, faint shadows under my eyes.
I'd been pushing myself too hard. Maybe I should see a doctor.
Then a thought flashed through my head, and my pulse jumped.
I counted back—my last period had been before Christmas, more than a month.
I grabbed my phone and called my private doctor.
"Ms. Jensen, how can I help you?" the receptionist asked.
"I'd like to make an appointment," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Tomorrow?"
"Sure. Ten in the morning?"
"That works."
After I hung up, I sat on the edge of the bed, my hand covering my lower belly. Could it be? Am I pregnant?
I thought of that night at Christmas, after Igor proposed. We'd said we'd give Stella a sibling. Had we succeeded?
"Mom!" Stella burst in. "Daddy's home!"
I smoothed my face and walked out. Igor was in the living room taking off his coat. He came straight to me. "You looked pale. Are you okay?"
"No," I said, and then told him, "We might be having another baby."
He had been worried a moment before, but when I said that, his eyes widened. "You're serious?"
"I'm not sure yet," I admitted. "But I think it might be true."
"Fuck." He laughed, the kind of laugh that lit his eyes. "Elena, if it's true, I'll be ecstatic."
"We'll know tomorrow," I said with a smile.
That night, the house buzzed. Stella sensed it. "Why are you laughing? You've been laughing all night."
"Because we're happy," Igor said, holding her. "Maybe you're going to be a big sister."
"Really?" Stella twirled. "I'm going to have a baby brother or sister?"
"Maybe," I said. "Tomorrow we'll know for sure."
"I'll pray tonight!" she said solemnly. "I'll pray I get a baby brother or sister."
Igor and I looked at each other and smiled.
The next morning, the doctor confirmed it.
"Congratulations, Ms. Jensen," she said with a smile. "You're pregnant—about five weeks."
Igor stared at me, joy written all over his face.
"Really?" I whispered.
"Really," the doctor said. "Everything looks healthy, though you've been working too hard. You need rest."
"I will," I promised.
"We'll do an ultrasound to be sure," she added.
I lay back on the table, cold gel on my belly. My hands were sweaty. Igor held my hand.
"There," the doctor said, pointing at the screen. "There's your baby."
A tiny black dot—nearly invisible—on the screen. Our child. My heart dissolved. That dot was ours. It was Stella's brother.
"Is there a heartbeat?" Igor's voice trembled.
"Too early to hear it," the doctor said. "Maybe in two weeks. But development looks good."
"Thank you," I said.
Walking out of the clinic felt unreal, like waking from a dream. Igor suddenly scooped me up and spun me.
"Put me down!" I laughed and patted him. "We're on the street!"
"I don't care." He grinned. "I'm going to be a father again! I won't miss this one."
"You were already a father," I said, standing on tiptoe to kiss him.
"This time is different," he said, cupping my face. "I'll be there every day, every checkup, every class. Goddamn it, Elena—I won't miss a thing this time."
"I know." I kissed him. He kissed me back, deep and gentle.
Stella felt the happiness too and spun in the living room. She declared she would protect the baby, teach him to draw, and teach him crafts.
Later, we learned the baby was a boy. Stella named him Nikolai—she'd seen the name in a book—and we both loved it. She said the name a hundred times a day.
When I was five months along, something unexpected happened. Igor's father—the man I'd always seen as selfish and cold—wanted to meet me, Stella, and the baby. I had thought about refusing. But the old Don was Nikolai's grandfather. He was Igor's father. I agreed to see him.
That night I wore a simple, elegant dress. Stella put on a pink princess dress and looked every inch a child. The old Don arrived on time. When the doorbell rang, my heart pounded. Igor opened the door and greeted him in Russian.
"Father," Igor said. "This is Elena, my fiancée."
The old Don's gaze fell on me. I straightened instinctively and kept my hand near my belly.
"Hello, Elena," he said in a low voice thick with a Russian accent. "I've heard a lot about you."
"Hello," I kept my voice steady. "Nice to meet you."
He stepped closer and appraised me, his eyes lingering on my belly.
"Five months?" he asked.
"Yes."
"A boy?"
I nodded.
A small smile flickered across his face. "A Vorontsov heir. Good."
Stella peered around me, shy of the stranger. The old Don's face softened when he saw her.
"This is Stella?" he asked, his tone gentler.
"Yes," Igor said. "Stella, come meet your grandfather."
Stella approached cautiously. "Hello, grandfather."
The old Don crouched to her level, which surprised me. I had expected distance and severity.
"Hello, little one," he said, reaching into his pocket for a small box. "This is for you."
I gave Stella a small nod. She opened it to find a delicate pink kitten diamond necklace.
"It was my choice," the old Don said. Stella's eyes lit up. "Do you like it?"
"I love it, thank you, grandfather!" she said.
He smoothed her hair. Then he turned to me.
"Elena," he said, "I know you had no reason to like me. Five years ago, I forced Igor into a choice that broke things, and I am sorry."
I was stunned. I had never expected an apology from that proud man.
"I was too obsessed with power and the family," he continued. "I thought an arranged tie would strengthen the Vorontsov house. I was wrong. I lost my son's trust. I nearly ruined his happiness."
He paused, his expression raw. "For five years I lived alone in that empty estate and realized what mattered was family."
"Father—" Igor began, moved.
"Let me finish." The old Don raised a hand. "The day Igor took power, I was furious. But later I felt relieved. He was stronger than me. He understood what matters."
He produced another box and handed it to me.
"It's for you. Welcome to the Vorontsov family."
My hands trembled as I opened it. Inside lay a vintage diamond-and-emerald necklace—elegant, old-world.
"It was Igor's mother's," the old Don said. "Before she died, she asked me to give it to Igor's wife. Now I pass it to you. It belongs to you."
My eyes burned. "Thank you."
He waved it off. That night, the four of us ate quietly. The old Don said little, but every time he looked at Stella, his eyes were soft.
After he left, I leaned into Igor.
"Your father wasn't what I expected," I said.
"He's changed a lot," Igor answered. "These five years did things to him. He lost everything and finally learned what family is."
"I'm glad he understood," I said. "Stella and Nikolai need a grandfather."
"We all needed family," he said, kissing me. "And you are the most important part of mine."
THE END