Epilogue II
ASTRID
A little over year later…
The Ivanov Tower daycare center is bright and airy, all soft light and clean lines, the faint scent of finger paint and crayons lingering in the air.
I sit on a cushioned bench near the play area, sipping my lukewarm tea, watching two toddlers waddle determinedly after a rubber ball.
My toddlers.
My heart still does a little flip when I think about it.
We named our boy Jack, full name Jackson Alexei Ivanov.
He has his father’s stormy grey eyes and a tuft of dark hair that never wants to lie flat, no matter what I do.
His smile is miniature trouble. Our daughter’s name is Mila, short for Milena Astrid Ivanova.
She’s the quieter one, with wide hazel eyes that study the world.
She’s delicate and fierce, thoughtful and stubborn.
They’re both perfect. Half me, half Yuri, and somehow entirely themselves.
I glance at the clock. Lunch break is ticking away, and there’s a spreadsheet on my desktop upstairs that refuses to reconcile, but I can’t bring myself to leave.
It’s dizzying how fast the past year has gone by. I swear Mila was just blinking up at me from her bassinet, and now she’s plotting how to climb over the foam turtle in the corner. Jack, of course, is egging her on with a grin.
I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, watching them, letting everything else fade into the background.
The meetings, the project proposals, the budget projections—they can all wait.
I love my job. I really do. Assistant Director of Financial Operations isn’t just a mouthful, it’s a role I’ve earned, running my team with precision and keeping Ivanov Holdings’ ledgers cleaner than most Fortune 500s.
But here, in this moment, none of it matters as much as the way Jack’s face lights up when Mila finally topples the turtle. She gives him a triumphant squeal and he claps, delighted by her happiness.
God, I love them so much it hurts.
“Figured I’d find you here.”
I turn at the sound of his voice, a smile already tugging at my lips. Yuri. He settles beside me and holds out a steaming paper cup.
“Fresh tea,” he says with a small smile.
I take it, laughing. “You’re getting alarmingly good at knowing exactly when I’m ready for a new one.”
Yuri plucks the old cup from my hand and walks it to the nearby trash bin.
“One of the best parts of my life is learning a little more about you every day,” he says, coming back.
Then he nods toward the kids, who are now building some kind of block tower with another little boy.
“And those two over there? The other best parts.”
He doesn’t say anything else, just watches them.
And I watch him.
I love the look in his eyes. It’s unguarded in a way Yuri rarely is. Soft, reverent, full of something bigger than pride. I used to think men like him didn’t have softness like this. But now I know it was never that he didn’t have it. He just needed the right people to bring it out.
I swallow hard, my fingers tightening around the cup.
I have something to tell him. Something big. But not yet. He’s happy. They’re happy. I want to hold onto it a little longer.
Yuri shifts beside me, clearing his throat. “So, I’ve been thinking about LA.”
I blink. “LA?”
He nods. “I’m flying out later this month to scout locations for a second Ivanov HQ—somewhere clean, discreet. Nothing too flashy. It’s time we started growing west.”
I smile. Always expanding. That’s my husband.
“Originally I was thinking of going alone,” he adds, “but then I thought maybe it’s time for a family trip. We can rent a house on the beach. Let the twins eat sand and scream at seagulls. You, me, a few days of sun. Just us.”
The thought hits me like a burst of warm sunshine. “That sounds incredible,” I say, grinning. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve seen the ocean?”
“Was it when you were flying over it when we first met?” he asks. “If that’s the case, I might’ve been keeping you a little occupied.” He winks and I laugh.
“I think you’re right. I was too occupied to appreciate the view. Or, I should say, I had a better view to appreciate.”
He leans in, brushing his lips over mine in a kiss that tastes like peppermint and coffee. “Then it’s settled.”
I nod, beaming. “Family vacation it is.”
He glances at the time and sighs. “I just wanted to drop in and see the kids.”
“Same here,” I say, though I’ve been in no hurry to leave my spot. “We should head up.”
We stand up and walk over to the play area.
Jack is trying to take a toy from Mila. She glares at him with a toddler’s righteous fury.
Yuri scoops Jack up, laughing, while I lift Mila and kiss her soft cheek.
She grabs my hair like it’s a rope to safety.
Jack tries to squirm out of Yuri’s arms and dive for the blocks, but Yuri wrangles him like a pro.
“Alright, you monsters,” Yuri says. “We’ll be back soon. Don’t get expelled.”
We settle them with the other kids, exchange one last round of snuggles and kisses, then step out into the hallway.
The elevator ride is quiet and peaceful. Yuri unlocks his office and we step inside together.
There’s a new photo on the credenza of Jack chewing on a building block, shirtless, with mashed banana across his cheek like war paint.
Mila is beside him in mid-scream, eyes sparkling.
Another frame holds a picture of the four of us, taken on the rooftop one evening, the sun setting behind us, Yuri’s hand around my waist, my face tilted to his shoulder, our babies bundled in our arms. I hadn’t even known he printed that one.
There are small signs everywhere now. A tiny hand print on the glass wall. A blue pacifier tucked beside the monitor. A folded blanket in the corner that still smells faintly like baby shampoo.
Yuri shrugs off his coat and tosses it over the back of his chair.
He’s already sliding into business mode, his tone smooth and sharp.
“So. We’ve got the commercial space in Edgewater tied up, we’re just waiting on final zoning approvals before we pull the trigger.
I’m still reviewing three candidates for the new compliance role.
We’ll probably need to bring in someone from London to help integrate the books once LA’s up and running.
I’ll need you in those meetings, when they happen. ”
I love watching him like this. Focused. Brilliant. Completely in command. He’s got this glint in his eyes—like he’s always ten steps ahead and can’t wait to watch the rest of the world catch up.
I settle on the arm of his leather couch, tea still in hand, just admiring him for a moment.
He finishes his rundown, spins his chair slightly to face me, and says more casually, “I heard something about our old friend Spalding.”
My eyebrows lift. “Oh yeah?”
He nods. “He worked out a deal and was released. Spotted in Laos. Private security work. Low profile. Word is, he’s working solo now.”
I let out a breath. “Huh. He got off lucky.”
Yuri leans back in his chair, his fingers laced behind his head. “That’s one way of putting it. I’d call it cowardice. But he’s officially banned from stepping onto U.S. soil.”
I glance down into my tea, then up again. “What about Tatiana?”
He chuckles. “I actually spoke to Ivan last week. He said she’s settling into life as Mrs. Anton Yegorov quite nicely.”
I frown. “The meatpacking guy?”
“That’s right. Man runs a whole chain of plants outside Yaroslavl. Not glamorous, but honest work. And he’s loaded. Old money. Perfect for a fresh start with no questions. And it sounds like she’s making a go of it.”
I bite back a smile. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Apparently she’s already dropped hints about starting a family.”
That surprises me more than it should. I can’t picture her in stilettos and satin, wrangling a toddler with perfectly manicured hands. But then again, maybe that’s the point. People change. Or they refuse to and life doesn’t give them a choice, forcing them to change anyway.
Something tugs in my chest. I look at Yuri, this man who once terrified me with his brilliance, who now terrifies me with how much I love him.
And I know I can’t wait any longer. I set the cup aside and take a deep breath.
“Speaking of family…” I begin.
He straightens in his chair. “Is something wrong?”
His voice is alert, bracing, ready to handle whatever needs handling. That’s just who he is. And it only makes my stomach twist harder because I hate that I’ve made him think this might be bad news, if only for a second.
“No,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “No, nothing’s wrong.”
He studies me for a beat longer, then stands and crosses the room, kneeling beside me. “Then talk to me,” he says gently. “Whatever it is, just say it.”
I feel ridiculous. I’m a grown woman, a mother already, married to a man who’s faced down FBI agents, oligarchs, and arms traffickers. And here I am, fidgeting like a teenager with a secret.
I exhale slowly, steadying my voice. “I know we haven’t talked about more kids. We’ve got our hands full already, and things are just starting to settle.”
His face doesn’t change. No flash of concern, no shift in posture. Just calm attention, waiting.
“But sometimes,” I say, reaching into my purse, “life decides for you.”
I hand him the test, just a simple strip of plastic with two unmistakable pink lines. He takes it carefully, like it’s a sacred object.
For a moment, he’s silent. Then his eyes lift to mine. And he smiles. Slow, wide, and so full of light it knocks the air right out of me.
“You’re serious?” he asks.
I nod, biting my lip. “Pretty damn sure.”
He laughs—an honest, joyful sound I don’t hear often enough. He sets the test gently on the table and pulls me into his arms, wrapping me so tightly I can barely breathe.
“We’re having another baby,” he murmurs into my hair, almost in awe.
Tears prick at my eyes, and I nod into his shoulder. “Looks that way.”
He pulls back just enough to look at me, cupping my cheek in his hand. “Astrid, I’m so happy. I didn’t know I could be any happier than you already make me, but I am.”
I laugh, half-choked by tears. “So you’re not mad?”
“Mad?” he echoes, incredulous. “You’ve just made me the luckiest bastard alive. Again.”
He kisses me, slow, deep, reverent. When he pulls back, there’s that glint in his eyes again. The one I know all too well. “We should celebrate.”
I arch a brow. “Celebrate?”
He stands and locks the office door with a smooth flick of his wrist. “Mmm-hmm.”
“Yuri…” I say, laughing, but he’s already pulling me gently to my feet.
His mouth finds mine again as his hands ease the hem of my blouse up. My fingers fumble with his shirt buttons as we kiss, urgent and sweet. Clothes fall away between murmured kisses and half-laughed gasps, until he lifts me onto the desk and settles between my legs.
It’s not frantic, it’s slow, savoring. His forehead rests against mine as he enters me and I feel all of him—his warmth, his love, his joy, the way we fit together like some divine design.
“I love you,” he whispers as he moves in me, steady and tender.
“I love you too,” I breathe, wrapping my arms around him. “So much.”
We move together, no rush, no need for anything else but each other.
When it ends, we stay tangled together, skin warm, hearts synced. He kisses my shoulder, my neck, the top of my head, like he’s memorizing every inch. We lay on the desk for a while, breathing slowing, reality settling back around us in soft layers.
He touches my belly. “Another one,” he whispers.
I smile, eyes full of tears and wonder. “Yeah. Another one.”
He kisses me again. “I’m going to love this one just as fiercely. Just like you.”
I look into his eyes and brush a hand through his hair. “You have made me the happiest woman alive, Yuri Ivanov.”
He smiles, pulling me close. “And I plan to keep doing it. Every day of my life.”
I believe him. With everything I am.
The End