Chapter 8 Jemma
Jemma
Iwake up on Christmas morning wearing an engagement ring.
For a moment, I think I dreamed it. The proposal in front of his entire family. The ring sliding onto my finger. Saying yes to a man who kidnapped me five days ago.
But then I lift my hand and see the diamond catching the morning light streaming through the window. It's real. Heavy. Beautiful. Mine.
I'm engaged to Konstantin Volkov. Vancouver’s Bratva Boss.
"Morning, fiancée," his voice rumbles behind me. His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me back against his chest.
I turn in his arms to find him already awake, watching me with those intense blue eyes.
He kisses me—slow and deep and full of promise. When he pulls back, I'm breathless and already wanting more.
"We should get up," I murmur. "It's Christmas morning. Your family—"
"Can wait five more minutes." His hand slides between my legs. "I want to make my fiancée come first thing Christmas morning."
"Konstantin."
"Spread your legs for me, beautiful."
I do, because apparently I'm completely unable to deny him anything. His fingers find my clit, circling slowly, and I'm already wet from just kissing him.
"That's my good girl. Always ready for me." He pushes two fingers inside, crooking them perfectly. "Come for me. Quick and quiet."
It doesn't take long. I'm wound tight from yesterday, from the proposal, from everything. I come apart around his fingers with a muffled gasp, my face buried in his neck.
"Perfect," he murmurs, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them to his mouth. "Now we can start Christmas properly."
***
We shower together—which takes longer than it should because Konstantin can't keep his hands off me. By the time we're dressed and heading downstairs, I can hear chaos from the living room.
"UNCLE KOSTYA! JEMMA! CHRISTMAS!" Natasha's voice carries through the entire house.
We round the corner to find the living room already packed. Natasha is bouncing in her reindeer onesie. Dimitri is on the couch with Anya, both looking amused. Yelena is wiping tears from her eyes while simultaneously arranging presents under the tree.
"THEY ARE HERE! THE ENGAGED ONES!" Yelena abandons the presents and rushes over, pulling us both into a crushing hug. "Merry Christmas! Oh, devochka, let me see ring again in the daylight!"
I hold out my hand. She gasps like she's seeing it for the first time.
"Is even more beautiful in morning light! Kostya, you have good taste! We must plan wedding immediately! Spring? Summer? Winter is beautiful. We should do it soon, yes?"
"Mama," Konstantin warns. "It's Christmas morning."
"Exactly! Christmas morning! Perfect time to plan wedding! We have family here, we can discuss—"
"Mama."
"Fine, fine!" She waves a hand dismissively. "Later we plan. Now, we celebrate! But first—breakfast! Come, come!"
She herds us toward the dining room where the table is laden with food. Russian breakfast—blini with caviar and sour cream, syrniki drizzled with honey, vareniki filled with potatoes and cheese, sliced meats and cheeses, fresh bread still warm from the oven.
"Mama, when did you make all this?" Konstantin asks.
"This morning! I wake up at three! Is Christmas! Must be perfect!" She starts loading my plate. "Eat, eat! Need to fatten up for baby-making!"
My face burns. Dimitri snorts into his coffee.
"Babushka, what's baby-making?" Natasha asks innocently.
"Is when—" Yelena starts.
"Adult things," Anya cuts in quickly, shooting Yelena a look. "Natasha, eat your syrniki."
Breakfast is loud and chaotic. Everyone talking at once in a mixture of Russian and English.
Yelena keeps piling food on my plate despite my protests.
Dimitri teases Konstantin relentlessly about the proposal.
Anya asks me about my degree. Natasha shows me a dance she learned for her school's Christmas show.
It's perfect. Overwhelming. Everything I've been missing since my parents died.
After breakfast, we migrate back to the living room for presents. Natasha can barely contain herself.
"Can we open them now? Please? Uncle Kostya is here and Jemma is here and everyone is here and it's Christmas!"
"Yes, yes!" Yelena claps her hands. "Open! But slowly! We must appreciate each gift!"
Natasha immediately ignores this instruction and tears into her first present with enthusiasm.
I didn't expect presents. But there's a small pile with my name on them anyway.
From Yelena: a beautiful cashmere scarf in deep blue and matching gloves. "For Vancouver winters! Must keep warm!"
From Dimitri and Anya: a gift card to a bookstore with a note that says "Anya mentioned you like dark romance. Enjoy."
From Natasha: a drawing of me and Konstantin holding hands in front of a Christmas tree, all stick figures and hearts. "So you don't forget us!"
I'm crying before I even realize it.
"Devochka!" Yelena is immediately at my side. "Why you cry?"
"It's just… I haven't had family in so long. And you all got me presents even though I wasn't supposed to be here and—" I wipe my eyes. "Thank you. All of you."
Yelena pulls me into another hug. "You ARE supposed to be here. You are family now. My son loves you. We love you. This is where you belong."
Konstantin's arm comes around my waist, solid and reassuring.
Then he hands me another small box.
"You already gave me the ring," I protest.
"That was for getting engaged. This is for Christmas."
I open it carefully. Inside is a key.
"Is this...?"
"To the penthouse. Your home now." He leans in close. "Your things are already being moved. Andrei handled it yesterday."
"You moved my stuff without asking?"
"You were going to say yes. I was prepared."
The morning continues with more present opening. Natasha gets approximately a thousand gifts and is delirious with joy. Konstantin gives his mother a first-class ticket to visit her youngest sister in Moscow, and she cries for ten minutes straight.
Eventually, Natasha drags me outside to build a snowman.
"Come on, Jemma! The snow is perfect!"
I look at Konstantin. He nods. "Go. Have fun. I'll help clean up."
So I bundle up in my new scarf and gloves and spend the next hour building snowmen with a seven-year-old who has very specific opinions about snowman architecture.
"No, no! The head has to be ROUND! And we need three buttons! And a carrot nose!"
"I'm doing my best here!"
"Your best is not very good," she informs me seriously.
I can't help but laugh.
Konstantin watches from the window, and every time I look up, he's there. Watching me. Smiling.
When I come back inside, frozen but happy, he immediately wraps me in his arms.
"You're freezing."
"Natasha is a harsh taskmaster. She made me rebuild the snowman's head three times."
"She gets that from her great-aunt." He rubs his hands over my arms, warming me. "Hot chocolate?"
"God, yes."
In the kitchen, Anya is already making hot chocolate for everyone. She hands me a mug topped with whipped cream and cinnamon.
"How are you doing?" she asks quietly while the others are in the living room. "Really?"
"Happy. Really, genuinely happy." I smile at her. "It's strange—a week ago I didn't even know this family existed. Now I can't imagine not being part of it."
She smiles back. "That sounds about right. These Volkov men have a way of completely upending your life."
"I know from the outside it looks crazy, but—" I touch the ring on my finger. "This feels right. He feels right."
"Then that's all that matters." She squeezes my hand. "Welcome to the family. For real this time. And fair warning—Yelena is already planning your baby shower."
"I'm not even pregnant yet!"
"Yet being the operative word. She's prepared." Anya grins. "Just wait. She'll have names picked out by New Year's."
***
Later that evening, after dinner and more family time, we pack for the trip back to Vancouver. Konstantin moves around the room efficiently while I fold clothes.
When we head downstairs one last time, Yelena is waiting with several bags of food.
"For the drive! For home! Must eat!"
"Mama, it's only a three-hour drive," Konstantin says.
"So? You get hungry! You must eat!" She starts loading containers into our bags. "I make extra borscht, and pampushky, and—"
"Mama, aren't you coming with us?" I ask.
"No, no! I stay here few more days! Give you two alone time!" She winks unsubtly. "You are engaged now! Need privacy! I stay with Dimitri and Anya, visit little Natasha."
"You're staying to give us alone time?" Konstantin looks suspicious.
"Yes! Is good! You have whole penthouse to yourselves! No babushka walking around!" She waves her hands. "You can... how you say... celebrate engagement properly! Make noise! I don't want to hear!"
My face burns. Dimitri is laughing in the background.
"Mama."
"Is decided! I come back for New Year!" She pulls us both into a hug. "You have week alone! Use it well! Make me grandchildren!"
Dimitri and Anya hug us goodbye.
As we drive away, I watch the mansion disappear in the rearview mirror. The lights twinkling. The snow falling softly.
"So, we have a week with the penthouse to ourselves."
His hand tightens on the steering wheel. "Yes. We do."
"What are we going to do with all that privacy?"
"I have some ideas." He glances at me, eyes dark. "A lot of ideas."
"I'm listening."
We drive through the snowy night, heading home. To our home. The one we'll share. The life we're building together.
And I think: this is what home feels like.
Not a place. Not a building.
Home is him. Home is us. Home is the family we're creating.
Even if it started with a kidnapping.