Chapter 43 Alina
ALINA
Dimitri's hand trembles against my stomach, his palm warm through the thin fabric of my sweater.
Around us, his men move through the monastery ruins with practiced efficiency, securing the perimeter and checking for survivors among Mikhail's fallen soldiers.
But we exist in our own bubble, the chaos fading to background noise as he stares at me with an expression I've never seen before.
His green eyes are wet with unshed tears.
"How long?" His voice cracks on the words. "How long have you known?"
"I took the test this morning." I cover his hand with both of mine, pressing his palm more firmly against my still-flat stomach. "Before we left for the meeting. I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid it would distract you. That you'd refuse to let me come."
"You're damn right, I would have refused." His other hand comes up to cup my face, his thumb brushing across my cheekbone. "Alina, you could have been killed. Our baby could have been killed. When Mikhail lunged at you with that knife, when I saw him moving toward you, I—"
His voice breaks completely, and I watch in amazement as tears spill down his cheeks. Dimitri Morozov, the ruthless Pakhan who's survived decades in the Bratva, who kills without hesitation, who's built an empire on blood and fear, is crying. For me. For our baby.
"But we weren't killed." I lean into his touch, feeling the roughness of his beard against my palm as I mirror his gesture, cradling his face. "We're both fine. The baby is fine. We're all fine."
"This time." He pulls me against his chest, holding me so tightly I can barely breathe.
His heart pounds against my ear, still racing from the adrenaline of the fight.
"But what about next time? What about all the enemies who will come after us, after our child?
How can I protect you both when you insist on throwing yourself into danger? "
I pull back enough to look up at him. "The same way you've protected me so far.
By being smart. By being strong. By not letting fear control us.
" I press my hand over his heart, feeling the steady thump beneath my fingers.
"I'm not fragile, Dimitri. I killed my own father.
I survived kidnapping and torture. I stood beside you through fire and bullets and collapsing buildings.
I'm not going to become some delicate flower just because I'm pregnant. "
A ghost of a smile crosses his lips. "No, you're definitely not delicate." He leans down and kisses me, soft and tender, so different from the passionate, claiming kisses we've shared before. This is reverent. Worshipful. "You're magnificent. Terrifying. The strongest woman I've ever known."
"Pakhan." Alexei's voice cuts through our moment, apologetic but urgent. "We need to go. The authorities will be here soon, and we need to be gone before they arrive."
Dimitri nods, his arm wrapping around my waist as we turn toward the waiting vehicles. The monastery is a pile of rubble now, smoke still rising from the ruins.
The drive back to the estate passes in a blur.
I'm exhausted beyond measure, my body finally registering all the adrenaline and fear and violence of the past hours.
Dimitri keeps one hand on my thigh the entire time, as if he needs the physical contact to reassure himself that I'm real, that I'm here, that we're both alive.
"A baby," he murmurs, almost to himself. "We're going to have a baby."
I cover his hand with mine, threading our fingers together. "Are you happy about the pregnancy?"
He looks at me like I've asked the most absurd question in the world.
"Happy doesn't begin to cover it. Terrified, yes.
Overwhelmed, absolutely. But happy?" His grip tightens on my hand.
"Alina, you've given me everything. A reason to build something better than what I inherited.
A future worth fighting for. And now a child.
" His voice drops to a whisper. "A family. "
The word hangs between us, heavy with meaning. Family. Not the twisted, toxic version we both grew up with, but something new. Something we're building together from the ashes of everything that came before.
When we pull through the estate gates, I see Katya standing on the front steps, her dark hair whipping in the wind. She's wearing one of the sweaters I bought her last week, and she looks so young, so vulnerable. The moment our SUV stops, she's running toward us.
"Alina!" She throws herself at me as I exit the vehicle, her arms wrapping around my neck. "Oh my God, I was so worried. The guards wouldn't tell me anything, just that there was a situation and I had to stay inside. Are you okay? Is Dimitri okay? What happened?"
I hold her tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo. My little sister. Safe. Alive. Here with me. "We're fine. Everything's fine. It's over, Katya. Mikhail is dead. The threat is gone."
She pulls back, her brown eyes searching my face. "Really? It's really over?"
"Really." I take her hand and lead her toward the house, Dimitri following close behind. "Come inside. We have something to tell you."
We settle in the main sitting room, the same room where my mother sat just days ago with her carefully rehearsed grief.
But this feels different. This feels like home.
Dimitri sits beside me on the leather sofa, his hand finding mine automatically.
Katya perches on the edge of the chair across from us, her eyes darting between our faces.
"What is it?" She sounds nervous. "You're scaring me."
I glance at Dimitri, and he nods, giving me permission to share our news. I take a deep breath. "Katya, you're going to be an aunt."
For a moment, she just stares at us, her expression blank. Then understanding dawns, and her face transforms. "You're pregnant? You're having a baby?"
"Yes." I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. "I just found out this morning."
Katya launches herself at us, tears streaming down her face as she hugs us both. "Oh my God, oh my God! This is amazing! I'm going to be an aunt!" She pulls back, her hands on my shoulders. "How far along are you? When are you due? Do you know if it's a boy or girl?"
I laugh at her rapid-fire questions. "I don't know any of that yet. It's very early."
She turns to Dimitri, and I see her hesitate for just a moment. She's still getting used to him, still learning to trust the man who's so different from our father. But then she throws her arms around his neck, and I watch his face soften in surprise.
"Thank you," she whispers. "For saving Alina. For saving me. For giving us a real family."
Dimitri's arms come up to return the embrace, awkward at first, then more confident. "You're welcome, Katya. You're part of this family now. Both of you. And I protect what's mine."
The possessiveness in his voice should bother me, but it doesn't. Because I know what he means. We're not possessions to him. We're precious. Valued. Loved.
Katya pulls back, wiping her eyes. "Can I tell people? My friends at school? They're going to be so excited!"
"Not yet," Dimitri says gently. "It's still very early, and we need to be careful. The fewer people who know, the safer Alina and the baby will be."
Katya's face falls slightly, but she nods. "I understand. But can I at least help plan the nursery? Pick out baby clothes? I want to be involved."
"Of course." I reach out and squeeze her hand. "You're going to be the best aunt ever."
We spend the next hour talking about the future, about names and nursery colors and all the mundane, wonderful details of bringing a new life into the world.
It's the first conversation we've had that isn't overshadowed by violence or fear or grief.
It's just us, a family, planning for something beautiful.
Dimitri mostly listens, his hand never leaving mine, his thumb tracing circles on my palm.
But I catch him smiling at Katya's enthusiasm, at her suggestions for baby names that range from traditional Russian to completely absurd.
When she suggests "Dragonfly" if it's a girl, referencing my wrist tattoo, even Dimitri laughs.
"We'll take it under consideration," he says diplomatically.
The moment is so perfect, so normal, that I almost forget about the world outside these walls. Almost forget about the Bratva families and the power struggles and the enemies who will always be circling. Almost.
But then Alexei appears in the doorway, his expression apologetic but urgent.
"Pakhan," he says quietly. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but we have a situation."
Dimitri's hand tightens on mine. "What now?"
"The neutral families." Alexei steps into the room, his tablet in hand. "They've been calling all evening. They want to meet with you. Immediately."
"About what?" But I can see from Dimitri's face that he already knows.
"About restructuring the entire organization." Alexei pulls up something on his tablet and shows it to Dimitri. "With Mikhail dead and the evidence of his manipulation revealed, they want to discuss the future of the Bratva. They're calling for an emergency council meeting. Tomorrow night."
Dimitri's jaw clenches, and I feel the tension radiating through his body. This is it. The moment that will determine whether our vision for a new Bratva can become reality or whether the old guard will reassert control.
"Tell them I'll be there," he says finally. "But on my terms. At a neutral location, with full security protocols."
Alexei nods and leaves to make the arrangements. The room falls silent, the joy of moments ago replaced by the weight of what's coming.
Katya looks between us, her earlier excitement dimmed. "What does this mean?"
"It means," Dimitri says slowly, "that everything changes. Again."