Chapter 32
Damir (Two Months Later)
The penthouse is silent, save for the soft glow of city lights streaming through the windows. I lean against the kitchen counter, phone in hand, texting Anton. I see his latest message.
Anton: “It’s done. Feds are backing off. They’ve got nothing.”
A second text follows.
Anton: “Your lawyer confirmed it. Case officially dropped.”
I exhale, the tension I’ve carried for months finally uncoiling. For too long, I’ve known the feds were watching and waiting for me to slip. Waiting for my alibi to crack. Now? They have nothing. It’s over. My marriage to Elena has served its purpose.
Anton: “You nervous?”
I type back quickly.
“This will be easier last time. It was just a contract.”
“You’re not the same man anymore.”
I shove my phone away, exhaling sharply. I’ve never been afraid of anything in my life. Not when I was eight and thrown into the bratva. Not when I took over at twenty-five. Not even when Nikolai put a knife in my gut.
I smile, thinking about Justin Kehlan. I wasn’t afraid when I confronted him after figuring out he’d been selling information about us to Nikolai. He’d been so terrified I thought he might pee himself. I haven’t done anything else to him and probably won’t, but his standing in class is down to the fifth instead of second, and Elena tells me he’s doing it to himself with stress and worry.
All the other things I’ve done flash through my mind, and I can’t think of one that really, truly frightened me.
This? This is different.
The sound of footsteps makes me look up. Elena walks into the room, already dressed for dinner. The deep burgundy dress hugs her curves, highlighting the small swell of her pregnancy. At twenty-two weeks, she’s finally starting to show. Her dark hair falls in loose waves around her shoulders, and the necklace I gave her rests against her delicate collarbone.
“I know you’re up to something,” she teases, slipping on her heels. Her eyes narrow playfully. “You’ve been secretive all day.”
I smirk, saying nothing. She’ll see soon enough. “Are you ready to go?” I ask, straightening my tie. “The reservation is for eight.”
She studies me, tilting her head slightly. “You’re wearing the suit I bought you.”
“It’s a special occasion.”
“Our six-month anniversary was two weeks ago, and we already celebrated.”
I step forward, placing my hand on the small of her back. “Maybe I just want to take my wife to dinner.”
“Hmm.” She doesn’t believe me, but she allows me to guide her toward the door.
The drive to the restaurant is quiet. Elena rests her hand on my thigh, occasionally glancing at me with suspicious eyes. I keep my expression neutral, though my mind races with every possibility of how tonight might unfold.
The restaurant is empty when we arrive, since I booked the entire place. Elena raises an eyebrow as we step inside. The hostess, a young woman in a crisp black uniform, greets us with a practiced smile.
“Mr., and Mrs. Antonov, welcome to Lumière.”
“Private dinner?” she asks, turning to me.
With a nod, I guide her to a table in the center of the room, pulling out her chair. “Only the best.”
The restaurant has been transformed. White roses fill crystal vases on every surface. Candles flicker, making dancing shadows cross the walls. A string quartet plays softly in the corner.
“Damir,” she whispers, her eyes wide as she takes in the scene. “What is all this?”
“Sit,” I say, my voice softer than usual. “Please.”
She does, still watching me with curious eyes. The waiter appears, pouring sparkling cider for Elena and vodka for me. When he leaves, Elena leans forward. “You’re making me nervous,” she says. “Is everything okay? Is it the baby?”
“Everything is fine.” I reach across the table, taking her hand. Her skin is soft against mine, her fingers delicate compared to my scarred knuckles. “Better than fine.”
“Then what?—”
“Do you remember the day we met?” I interrupt. “In the hospital cafeteria?”
She smiles, the memory softening her expression. “You spilled coffee on me.”
“On purpose.”
Her eyes widen. “What?”
“I saw you from across the room, and I needed an excuse to talk to you, so I got in line behind you, and…”
“You’re telling me you deliberately ruined my scrubs?”
I shrug, unapologetic. “It worked, didn’t it?”
She laughs, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”
“I knew from that moment,” I say, tracing circles on her palm. “Something about you was different.”
“Different how?”
“You weren’t afraid of me.” It’s still remarkable to me, even now. “Everyone is afraid of me, Elena, except you.”
She squeezes my hand. “That’s not true. I was terrified of you.”
“No. You were cautious. There’s a difference.”
The waiter returns with our first course. She releases my hand, picking up her fork. We eat in comfortable silence, the quartet playing softly in the background. Between courses, I watch her, unable to look away.
By the time dessert arrives, I’m ready. I stand, pulling a small velvet box from my pocket. Elena’s fork clatters against her plate.
I don’t kneel. Don’t need to. I just hold out the box, my voice raw, unguarded. “Marry me. No contracts. No games. For real this time.”
Elena stares at me, her eyes soft. “You’re not asking.”
My smirk is slow, knowing. “No, I’m not.”
She takes the ring and slips it on. Then she launches herself into my arms.
I catch her, holding her against me. Her body fits perfectly against mine, her face buried in my neck. I breathe in the scent of her.
“I already have a ring,” she murmurs against my skin.
“That was for show,” I say, pulling back to look at her. “This one is real.”
She examines the ring composed of a large oval diamond surrounded by smaller emeralds that match her necklace. “It’s beautiful.”
“You deserve better than how we started, a marriage based on lies and necessity.”
“It served its purpose,” she says, echoing my earlier thought.
“It did. The feds are gone, and the case is dropped.”
Her eyes widen. “Really? It’s over?”
I nod. “Anton confirmed it tonight. We’re free.”
“Free,” she repeats, testing the word. “So this is what? A celebration?”
“This is me telling you I want more than our arrangement.” I cup her face in my hands. “I want you to be my wife. For real. No expiration date.”
“Even though the danger is gone? Even though you don’t need me anymore?”
“I will always need you,” I say firmly. “You and our son.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “Damir…”
“I love you,” I say, the words still unfamiliar on my tongue. “I never thought I would say that to anyone. I never thought I was capable of it. Then you came along with your stubborn determination and your refusal to be intimidated, and you changed everything.”
She laughs through her tears. “I love you too, you impossible man.”
I kiss her then, tasting champagne and chocolate on her lips. When we break apart, she’s smiling.
“So, Mrs. Antonova,” I say, leading her back to her seat. “What do you say? Will you marry me again? This time for real?”
“Yes,” she says simply. “I will.”
We finish our dessert, and she examines her ring several times in the candlelight. The diamond catches the light, sending prisms dancing across the table. “When did you know?” she asks suddenly.
“Know what?”
“That you loved me.”
I consider the question. “The day you told me about the baby. You were so afraid I would be angry, that I would see it as a complication.”
“And instead, you were happy.”
“I was terrified, but yes, happy. That’s when I knew I couldn’t let you go when our six months were up.”
She smiles, reaching across the table to take my hand. “I knew the night you cooked for me when you told me about Irina. I just wasn’t ready to admit it to myself or you yet.”
I remember that night, sharing stories of my childhood and the housekeeper who showed me kindness in a world of cruelty. It was the first time I’d opened up to anyone about my past.
“You trusted me with your story. That’s when I knew this was more than an arrangement for both of us.”
The waiter approaches. “Will there be anything else, Mr. Antonov?”
“No,” I say, my gaze never leaving Elena’s face. “We have everything we need.”
When we finish our meal, I help Elena into her coat. The night air is cool against my skin as we step outside. Viktor waits at the curb, opening the door when we approach.
“Home?” I ask.
She looks up at me. “Home.”
In the car, she leans against me, her head on my shoulder. “I have a confession,” she says softly.
“What’s that?”
“I already knew about the case being dropped.”
I pull back, looking down at her. “How?”
“Mikhail called me this afternoon. He wanted to make sure I knew before the press got wind of it.”
“And you didn’t say anything?”
She shrugs, a small smile on her lips. “I figured you had your reasons for keeping it quiet.”
“I wanted tonight to be perfect. No distractions.”
“It was perfect.” She stretches upward to press a kiss to my jaw. “I’m still not sure why you needed to propose again. We’re already married.”
“On paper. This time, it’s real. No contracts, no federal investigations hanging over our heads. Just us.”
“Just us,” she repeats, settling back against me. “I like the sound of that.”
The car pulls up to our building, and I help Elena out. In the elevator, she leans against the wall, watching me with curious eyes.
“What?” I ask.
“I’m trying to imagine what my life would be like if I hadn’t met you.”
“Boring,” I suggest.
She laughs. “Safer, maybe.”
“Less exciting.”
“Definitely less exciting.”
The elevator doors open, and I guide her into our penthouse. The city sprawls below us, a sea of lights against the darkness.
“I have something else for you,” I say, reaching into my pocket.
Elena raises an eyebrow. “Another ring?”
“No.” I pull out a set of keys. “These.”
She takes them, examining the unfamiliar keys with confusion. “What are these for?”
“Our new home. In Tuscany.”
Her eyes widen. “Tuscany? As in Italy?”
I nod. “A villa in the countryside. Far from Philadelphia, far from the Bratva… Far from everything.”
“You’re serious?”
“I promised you we would leave this life behind,” I remind her. “I keep my promises.”
“When?”
“Next week. Everything is arranged. Anton will take over here. We’ll start fresh.”
“What about my residency?”
“I’ve spoken with contacts at hospitals in Florence. They’re eager to have you.”
She stares at me, speechless. Then she throws her arms around my neck, the keys still clutched in her hand. “Thank you,” she whispers against my ear.
I hold her close, breathing in the scent of her hair. “For what?”
“For giving us a future.”
I pull back, looking into her eyes. “We’ve always had a future. From the moment you agreed to marry me the first time.”
She smiles, tears shining in her eyes. “I love you, Damir.”
“And I love you, Elena.”
She kisses me then, soft and sweet. When she pulls away, she’s smiling. “So, Tuscany,” she says, twirling the keys in her hand. “Do I get to see pictures of this villa?”
“Better,” I say, leading her to my office. “I’ll show you everything and give you the grand tour in person next week, when we arrive there.”