Epilogue
Sometimes you just gotta let me be dramatic, and I’ll be normal again in a few hours.
— Brecken to Shasha
brECKEN
“You’re fucking crazy, Brecken,” Shasha whispered in my ear as he walked off toward the coffee counter.
I stuck my tongue out at him, causing someone behind me to laugh.
I turned to find another girl standing there, watching us.
“Hello,” I said, trying not to be angry but failing miserably.
God, why did the man have to be so beautiful?
“Troubles?” she asked.
I shrugged, then decided…fuck it.
I didn’t have anyone else I could talk to.
“Well,” I said. “First, we’re at another coffee shop, and he and I are walking inside, and he lets me go in first, then holds the door for the girl behind me. She strikes up a conversation with him, and the man decides to hold one back with her. Meanwhile, I’m left standing there awkwardly at the side. All I can think about is the fact that this man is way out of my league.”
The woman’s lips twitched. “Did he tell you that?”
I scoffed. “Uptight stick up his ass Shasha Semyonov? Of course not. But look at me.” I gestured at my leggings, messy bun, oversized sweatshirt that I’d stolen from my high school boyfriend, and old as fuck Vans.
“I think that he loves you, bestie.” The woman smiled. “He’s been glaring at every person in here who even comes close to your space.” She glanced at my enlarged stomach. “And just sayin’, but you’re taking up some extra.”
I laughed and held out my hand. “I like the idea of being a bestie again. My name is Brecken. What’s yours?”
She took my hand and shook it. “You kind of know me, but you kind of don’t. My name is Faina.”
A little girl ran up to the woman and threw her arms around her knees. “Mama!”
The girl was around a year to a year and a half.
Since I had no baby experience, I couldn’t exactly say how old, but she was young.
“Ahh, my Catya.” Faina bent down to scoop up her child. “Catya, I’d like you to meet my new best friend, Brecken. Brecken, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Catya.”
The little girl was lifted up, and a familiar pair of chocolate-brown eyes stared at me with a face that I once knew well.
Viveka.
My heart stalled in my chest as I realized what Faina had meant earlier.
A man came up to her side and threw his arm around the both of them and said, “Boss.”
Boss .
I turned to Shasha and said, “Is this really her?”
“This is her.” He nodded.
I placed my hand over my heart and nearly started crying.
This was her.
The baby was safe.
Viveka had done it!
“Oh,” I sniffled. “That’s the best thing ever.”
Fuck you, Jolessa, for thinking she couldn’t.
“She’s so beautiful,” I whispered.
The man beside Faina grinned. “She is.”
“Hurry up and order, would you?” I heard called from my sister. “I really need to talk to you!”
“Fine, fine,” I said as I patted Shasha on the chest. “Can you order for us, husband?”
He winked. “Sure.”
I turned to Faina. “How do you feel about extracting secrets?”
“I love it.” She beamed.
I gestured for her to follow me to the table that McCoy, Nastya, JJ, and Milena were already occupying.
Faina took a seat, and then I turned to McCoy and said, “Okay, start.”
“You have to promise this goes no further than this table.” She narrowed her eyes.
The distress I could see on her face had me instantly offering up a promise.
“I swear on my life—” I started, but my sister interrupted me.
“I’ve witnessed your life lately. Swear on something else.” McCoy glared.
I sighed. “I swear on my George Strait autographed guitar that I won’t tell anyone your secret.”
My sister wilted. “Okay, so I slept with Kincaid McCall.”
Everyone gasped.
“You slept with your sworn enemy?” I leaned in.
That was when my water broke.
I’d never in my entire life thought that anything could be sexier than Shasha on our wedding day.
He’d been dressed to the nines.
Fitted tux.
Perfectly coiffed hair.
Well-manicured beard.
He had been utter perfection.
Then there was now, watching him with our newborn daughter, Viveka.
Vivi.
I could just make out the bulge underneath his suit jacket where his arm was lifted to support our newborn’s tiny little tush.
His eyes were closed, and I couldn’t help but to compare her eyes and his.
They both had the best eyelashes I’d ever seen.
I was so jealous.
The eyelashes on my husband’s cheek swept upward, and his eyes stared deeply into mine.
“You okay?” he asked, voice rough and tired.
We’d been up for hours.
All of our family had just gone home, and we’d finally gotten our baby back.
Honestly, Shasha had been great with passing her around, but he’d gotten tired of it pretty quickly and had ordered everyone to leave.
I hadn’t been surprised.
What I had been surprised about was how we didn’t have a single guard in the room with us.
I imagined they were both outside.
I was never far from Daniil, and he was never far from Alexi.
Now, I imagined, that would continue to happen, though only amped up by a thousand.
I saw the way his eyes had changed the moment she’d been laid into his arms.
He was scared.
Well and truly scared.
When his sister, Maven, had taken him aside to talk to him, I knew that she was helping encourage him to control his fears.
I’d seen him get control, but that fear was still there, though not nearly as bad.
“I’m great.” I smiled. “I have the whole world right here.” I placed my hand over my heart. “I’m freakin’ perfect.”
He leaned over and gave me a kiss.
“You ever gonna give her up, Daddy?”
His mouth quirked up. “Probably not.”
I giggled. “I love you, Shasha.”
He pressed his mouth to my hand and placed it over his heart that was pounding. “You’ve changed my world, Brecken Semyonov.”
“Did I tell you how great that last name sounds?”
He chuckled, which woke the baby up.
“I hate to break it to you, honey, but anything is better than Brecken Sweat.”
“You may be right.” I sighed and felt my breasts start to tighten. “Time to feed her.”
“Time to feed her,” he agreed.
“You have to hand her to me,” I pointed out.
He groaned. “Fine.”
He let me have her, but he kept his hand on her back the entire time.
The little girl had no idea what kind of power she held.
None.
SHASHA
Eighteen months later
The terror that enters your body when you have a small child that can walk is sometimes impossible to overcome.
But it helps when you have a wife who knows your biggest insecurities and helps you get control of them. Or lets you handle them on your own and doesn’t complain about your overprotectiveness.
I watched as Vivi ran around the merry-go-round with her cousins and forced myself to stay where I was to allow the man who was walking up to me to get to my side before I asked, “What can I help you with, Detective?”
“Just running up some case notes,” he said. “Wondering if you’ve had any contact with Rupert Tomlinson or Gabriel Stone lately.”
I looked over at the detective to find him staring at my sister, who was laughing as she was pushed on the merry-go-round by the kids.
“I have not,” I said. “Why do you ask?”
“Parents wondering where their children are.” He looked at me then. “As a father yourself and a brother to a little girl that went missing at a young age, I would think you would feel this a little more deeply.”
I leveled him with an honest stare as I said, “Detective, if I am being bluntly honest, you cannot compare those things. Two men who were awful are missing. They were literally loathed by so many people they can’t narrow down a list of suspects. And you expect me to have sympathy for them because I’m a father now, and my sister was once taken from our family? No. I do not have any sympathy for them. And one day, I can guarantee you’ll see the difference.”
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
As I watched him look at my sister, I almost wanted to laugh.
The way he looked at her was reminiscent of how I once looked at my wife.
If he only knew…
“Dada, hol!”
I picked up my sweet baby girl and cuddled her to my chest.
“I love you,” I said to her.
The detective beside me left.
My wife took his place.
“What was that about?” she wondered as she leaned into us.
I threw my free arm around her and said, “Just checking in.”
“Well, that sounds fun.” She paused. “Can we go eat? I’m starving.”
I ran the top of my nose along the bridge of hers before saying, “Anything you want, kisa . Anything you want.”