Epilogue
Ryder
Twenty-four Weeks Later
“Get up.”
But I’ve been up for the past two hours, pacing the house. Straightening things here and there. Nesting, probably, though I hate to admit it.
“Liev.”
He only groans and buries his face deeper into his pillow. For a moment I consider letting him sleep. Maybe I’ll text Vivienne instead, or Viktor. The rest of our little army, Olena and Lev, returned north months ago, wanting to be as far away from the FBI operation as possible.
“If you don’t wake up, then Viv is going to be the one cutting the baby’s cord.”
“What?” The question comes out as a confused grumble, the word barely formed. Liev’s head lifts from the pillow, eyes squinted as he stares up at me. He takes in my clothes—sweatpants, a comfortable and clean t-shirt of his, sneakers.
And the bag by my side.
And the way I’m grimacing as another contraction hits, and I grip the nightstand.
“What!?”
He shoots out of bed like a bullet, silver-twined hair tousled and sweats hanging low on his hips. Even as the contraction edges away, I can’t help but take him in; those tight abs, a sprinkle of silver chest hair, the stubble on his face.
Damn.
This is what got me into this mess.
“Can you drive?”
“Are you—is this—?” He’s struggling into jeans, having shucked off the sweatpants, and I hand him the shirt I already had ready for him.
“Yes. If you don’t hurry up, I really will have to call Vivienne. I’ve been having contractions for about an hour now.”
“What?”
“Liev, if you don’t stop saying that, I’m going to leave you here.” I can’t keep the annoyance and exhaustion from my voice anymore, even as a hint of amusement sneaks in.
Who would’ve thought the undoing of Miami’s Bratva King would be his wife going into labor?
He scrambles for his cell phone. “We need to call Dr. Hill—”
“I already did. He’ll meet us at the hospital once I’m settled in.”
Liev’s face is openly shocked, his eyes wide and bowed lips parted. I sigh and leave the bedroom, listening to him hurrying behind me. Probably looking for everything I already packed up over the last two hours, when the first contraction woke me from sleep that’s rarely come these days.
“I can’t wait till you’re here,” I murmur to my belly, waddling toward the front door. “I’m going to sleep for a week while your daddy feeds and changes you.”
It’s half a joke—I don’t expect Liev to take on all the duties, but I know if I did ask him to, he would without hesitation.
“Wait, Ryder, let me—”
I pull up short as he wrenches open the front door, gesturing me through quickly and then jogging to the car. “Oh, God.” Another contraction hits me as soon as I touch the handle. I brace myself against the car door, gritting my teeth and trying to wait it out.
Liev rushes around to my side, his hands hovering on either side of me, too scared to touch and not sure what to do. “Are you okay?” he asks hurriedly, hair still mussed and eyes wild.
With a low hum, I take deep breaths, waiting for the sensation to pass. It does, but my knees feel a little weaker. “Fine,” I croak. “Just get me to the hospital, please. I think this is going to happen faster than they told us.”
I lean against the car as Liev practically pulls the door off by the handle, guiding me inside with gentle hands.
“Good?” he asks as he slams his own door shut, starting the engine.
“Good enough. Let’s go meet our kid, love.”
* * *
Eight and a half hours later, the world has finally gone still.
My eyes are closed, my body heavy in that strange, aching way that comes after exhaustion finally catches up to adrenaline.
The room is dim and quiet, the kind of quiet that feels almost sacred after everything it took to get here.
For the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself believe I can rest.
Then a phone starts ringing.
My eyes fly open.
“Are you kidding me?” I groan, the words rough with sleep and disbelief as I turn my head toward the sound.
Beside me, Liev exhales a quiet, apologetic breath. “I’m sorry.”
I squint at him as he reaches for his phone from the side table, the faint light from the screen catching the tired lines of his face. The blinds are drawn over the hospital windows—it’s half past 10 a.m., and out in the hallway muted voices layer over one another.
Liev glances at the caller ID and then back at me.
“It’s Kazimir. I’m sorry—I texted him after…”
After our son was born. After the room calmed down, the nurses did their checks; the doctor promised to check on me later. After Liev took a breath and got some color back in his face. After our baby finally fell asleep.
That wakes me a little more.
Liev answers in a low voice, careful not to disturb the fragile peace of the room any more than the ringing already has. I listen with my eyes half-closed as his tone shifts, growing warmer in a way that still catches me off guard sometimes.
“Yes,” he says quietly. “He’s here.”
A pause.
Then, softer, “You have a brother, Aly.”
I blink and turn my head toward him more fully.
On the other end, I can practically hear Alyona’s delight through the phone even without the speaker on.
A brother. How strange—she and I aren’t too far apart in age, and sometimes I forget that Liev had her when he was still just a teenager back in Prague.
And here we are—all these decades later. Brought together by fury, business, and eventually… love. Who would have thought?
Liev glances at me. “We decided on a name.”
Another pause.
“Rex Demsky.”
I can’t hear Kazimir’s exact response, but whatever he says makes Liev’s mouth twitch. “No, it isn’t Russian,” Liev says dryly.
That almost makes me laugh. Another beat, and then his expression eases. “You’ll get over it.”
I smile against the pillow, picturing Kazimir bristling at the lack of tradition before inevitably relenting because this child is family. Even if this family has been oddly cobbled together over the past year.
Liev listens for another moment, then looks at me again, muting the phone. “They want to fly down tonight and come tomorrow. Okay with you?”
Even through the exhaustion, warmth blooms in my chest. With my mother now in Savannah, having followed my father and locked down by the FBI in a hotel there, I want family more than anything.
“Tell them yes.”
He nods and relays the answer; the conversation ending a minute later with promises and clipped affection. When he sets the phone down, he turns back toward me and brushes a hand over my hair.
“Sleep,” he murmurs.
I give him a look. Now that I’m awake, sleep feels impossible.
“I want to see him.”
The words come out softer than I intend, full of a need that seems to override every ache in my body.
A part of me was so scared that I’d be too exhausted to feel anything for the baby once he was here.
Too focused on myself and overwhelmed with adrenaline and stress.
But as soon as I saw him, something in me clicked—like it was fate to have him in my arms.
Liev’s expression changes instantly, going all soft and wondrous. He pushes himself up from the chair beside the bed and crosses the room to the bassinet.
I watch him lift our son with a care that still stuns me. This man, who once seemed carved from ice and steel, cradles Rex as though he’s holding something miraculous.
When he carries him over and settles him carefully into my arms, the room seems to narrow to the small, warm weight against my chest. Rex stirs, his tiny face scrunching before he settles again, impossibly perfect and heartbreakingly real.
Actually, he’s not a very cute baby. A bit smushed, if I’m being honest.
“Had a rough time of it,” I murmur, and my husband looks aghast. I laugh. “I’m sure he’ll grow into his looks. Look at who his parents are.”
Liev sits beside me on the edge of the bed, one hand resting lightly over the blanket near Rex’s small body.
“It still feels unreal,” he says quietly.
I look up at him. His eyes are on our son, and there’s something open in his face that I don’t think anyone else ever gets to see.
“I didn’t think I’d ever get a second chance at this,” he says after a moment, almost to himself.
I smile faintly, adjusting Rex a little higher against my chest. I’m not sure what he means by “this” another child?
It took Alyona years to trust him again.
Or maybe family; maybe love. After all, Aly’s mom cut him off quickly, and the fiancé he once had is barely a blip in his history.
“Now you’re stuck with me,” I murmur, hoping that he means love. Hoping, even though he tells me every single day, that he loves me as much as I’m hopelessly in love with him.
For a few precious minutes, it’s just us.
Then my cell phone buzzes on the side table.
I close my eyes for half a second. “No.”
Liev huffs a quiet laugh as I reach for it. I don’t answer, letting it ring itself out. There isn’t anyone I’d be willing to answer for right now. No one matters more than the two boys in this room.
It goes silent, and a text flashes across the screen.
Agent Pierce: Trial date confirmed. One month. February seventeenth. Savannah.
The words are like cold water. I wrap myself around Rex more, knees drawn up, leaning toward Liev.
He reads my expression before I say anything. “What is it?”
I show him the screen. His jaw tightens as he reads the message, then he looks at Rex, then back at me.
“We don’t have to go,” he says quietly. “He’s already buried in enough charges to keep him locked away. Miami is safe. We could just stay here.”
I know he means it as protection. But I shake my head.
“No.” I look down at Rex, at the future curled against my chest. “I need to see this through.”
Liev studies me for a long moment, then nods once.
“For what?” he asks softly, even though I know he won’t press it; won’t try to keep me from putting my own father in prison for life.
I lift Rex slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “For the future,” I say. “No one will ever underestimate me again. Or you, Liev. This is our life. Ours.”
Liev leans in, his forehead brushing mine, and for a moment the rest of the world fades away.
There is still one last thing to finish. But today, in this quiet room, with our son in my arms and my husband beside me, the future doesn’t seem as obscure as it once did.
* * *