Chapter 29
Vivi
It’s been six weeks, and life is slowly settling into a semblance of normal.
The rest of the battle was hard-won, but win, we did. Azrael did not immediately stand down after Ivan killed Waylon Vigneault. Most of his men fought until the end, which came quickly for some and slowly for others.
By some miracle, all of us survived. Luca and Carina, Evie and Cassidy, Enzo and Rowan, Lulu and Damon…they’re all still here, a little bruised, a little bloody…but breathing. Giorgia, sleeping in her nursery up the stairs, was never touched.
I can’t ask for more.
According to Ivan, though, our numbers have been greatly diminished. In order to bring down Azrael and free ourselves from the threat of the Commission, the Five Families lost some of their power.
A temporary situation. We just need to rebuild. Find new soldiers, new loyalties.
All of these thoughts pass through my mind in a matter of moments as I stand in the bedroom of our repaired Romanov mansion, a stack of paint samples in hand. Well, repair-in-progress. I would never tell Ivan, but I kind of like the fact that I get to re-do everything. I added more color to his previously dark and somber master bedroom.
Some little accents of pink and flowers—a pile of throw pillows for the bed and the set of reading chairs by the window.
Ivan didn’t say anything when he saw it, but his lips quirked in that sexy blend of humor and irritation before he began shoving the pillows onto the floor.
Since all the fires were started on the main floor, a lot more work needed to be done there than upstairs. It’s all expected to be finished in a few months.
Right on time . I run my hand over the slight curve of my stomach. I flip through the paint samples, trying to choose one for the nursery. I’m going to be plump for Cassidy and Evie’s wedding.
A step sounds on the floor, and I glance up to see Ivan entering the room, looking worn. Wordlessly, he goes into the en suite bathroom. The sound of the shower starts, and I listen to the water falling for several minutes before I can’t keep myself away anymore.
I want him. Always, with a hunger that surprises me.
Ivan looks up from where his head is bent beneath the spray of water when I open the glass door of the shower; his arms braced on the wall before him. His gaze roves over me, hungry and assessing.
“You’ve just taken a shower, pet. Your hair is still wet.”
I allow mischief to peek through in my smile as I pick up the bottle of soap and pump some into my palm. “I’m not here to get clean, husband. I’m here to get dirty.”
Ivan laughs and turns to face me, and I let my soapy palms slick over his skin. He returns the favor, his touch ravenous and slightly bruising, as always.
“You must have had a long night.” My breath hitches as his hand dives between my legs.
“No longer than usual,” he responds, dipping his head to kiss me.
There’s no more talk after that. Just the heat of the water and our bodies, Ivan’s strength as he lifts me and braces me against the cool tile, Ivan’s body as he thrusts into mine…
Ivan. Ivan. Ivan.
My eyes close, and I surrender myself to this man.
“I love you.” The words are a gasp as he slams into me, more powerfully than before, more intently.
“And I you, pet.”
Afterward, Ivan wraps me in a towel, and we return to the bedroom. Ivan looks at the few samples that I dropped onto the bed as I was making my way to join him, his expression reflective.
“I like this one.” He points to a pale bluish-gray.
Ivan prefers simplicity in his living environment. I like color. We compromised with light-colored paints with various undertones of other shades and using fabric and accents for contrast. Mostly, he indulges me.
This is our dynamic. Their world is a dark one, a dangerous one. There are times when a monster is needed to take care of a man’s job, but it isn’t always necessary. Sometimes, softness and light are necessary. I am here to remind him to pull back, to allow his humanity to shine.
We are the perfect balance of light and dark, something I think Ivan always realized. It’s why he chose me.
A knock sounds upon the door, and after checking that I’m covered, Ivan opens it to reveal a servant. She’s a new one. We’ve been hiring a lot of those lately.
“Pardon the intrusion, sir. Ma’am. I fetched the mail and paper.”
“Thank you, Sydney.” Ivan takes the offered collection, and closes the door, then hands it to me so he can finish dressing. I flip through it without much interest.
“Bill…spam…magazine…”
“Anything important?”
“No…” Nothing too exciting. Just routine bills from our contractors, the decorators, and such. There are a few pieces of junk mail and a statement from one of their banks.
My attention snags on a small postcard, half-hidden in the mix. Curiosity piqued, I slide it out and flip it over.
Blank.
There’s only my address on it. Nothing else. No signature. No message. It’s just a postcard.
A postcard showing a fountain in the main square of a tiny town at the foothills of distant mountains. Cervinara.
“What’s that?”
My heart thrums a cadence against my ribcage. Angel made it home.
I smile. “Nothing,” I tell Ivan. “Everything is good.”