Chapter 33
Chapter
Thirty-Three
Kolya
Chloe is my wife.
Fucking finally.
Brunch preparations triggered a flurry of activity at the Alpine mansion. It appeared no one had slept more than a few hours, or slept peacefully. Excitement from the events of the past nine hours buzzed in the air.
After Margo Winthrop announced that the Vozhokari had accepted our union, Kirill lifted the lockdown. The Zahkarov women wanted to drive into Manhattan to celebrate, but fuck that. Those of us who went into battle needed to calm down from the adrenaline rush, and most of us just wanted to crash.
Besides—Kirill, Rurik, and Maksim were in contact with the other crime families to manage the fallout from the violence that crossed New Jersey and spilled into New York.
Quite a jurisdiction nightmare and balancing act, but thankfully, and since I was the groom, I was told to relax.
Good. Because politicking wasn’t my style anyway.
Although Rurik muttered it might be an excellent practice for when I became brigadier.
There was infrastructure damage to the streets and the bridge. Margo said she could order the Vozhokari and the entity who hired the mercenaries to chip in, but Kirill said no. We wanted to be fully divested from them and didn’t want to risk owing anyone favors.
My wife was dozing fitfully against me. My battle-worn wife. I gnashed my teeth at what she had endured in order to be with me. Sebastian was in his carrier, sleeping contentedly. After the ceremony, Chloe and I couldn’t wait to get home to be with our son—Sebastian Petrov.
My heart couldn’t soar higher. Elation. This was what the word meant.
The motorcyclist Kirill had run over was Xiarra Wilson.
As Ilya found out this evening, Xiarra was Marena’s cousin.
They originated from the Areenova clan, had undergone facial reconstruction, and assumed new identities.
And with assassin networks? New identities were as second nature as changing hairstyles.
Only Marena and Xiarra had worked together, and after Chloe and I executed the blood covenant, the Vozhokari had firmly shut its door against the Areenova clan.
After she disappeared from the shelter, Marena slowly infiltrated the public spaces of the Marriage Ink building, commandeering the identity and trucks of one of their flower suppliers.
Margo was pissed about the breach and losing employees.
Ilya also connected Xiarra Wilson’s network to the attack on Chloe’s apartment.
If the Vozhokari had been secretive, the Areenova clan had been downright impossible to track.
Dimitri and Ilya believed there were a few of them left and had plastic surgery so they could scatter and do their own thing.
There was still the nurse who had worked at The Astorian and tipped off Marena. None of our sources could locate her.
Movement at the opening of the living room caught my attention. Aralina appeared with Theo.
Judging from his disheveled appearance of messy hair, unshaven face, and bloodshot eyes, Chloe’s brother wasn’t spared from a restless night. He wore impeccably tailored threads as usual, but the loosened knot of his tie hinted that he’d been yanking at it for a while.
When his eyes zeroed in on Chloe, his shudder of relief was palpable from across the room.
Chloe sat up. “Theo…”
She rose unsteadily to her feet. Theo wrapped his arms around her in an extended hug.
Aralina and I stared at them.
“You’re okay,” he breathed.
“Sorry to beat you to a wedding,” Chloe said with a tired laugh.
Theo emitted a rough chuckle. “You two are always full of surprises.”
There was no mockery in his words, only humor, so I didn’t read too much into it.
“Congratulations,” he said to Chloe, and then extended his hand to me.
We exchanged handshakes.
Firm.
Like we meant it.
Aralina continued looking on, smiling widely too. She was the first to race out of the house to greet us when we returned.
I put my arm around Aralina. “You okay?”
“We need to talk about the bachelorette party.” Lucy strode in.
“Where’s Kirill?” I asked.
“He returned to Manhattan to smooth out a few ruffled feathers.”
“Heard you guys caused quite a ruckus in the city,” Theo said.
“You didn’t see that in the news, though,” Lucy pointed out.
“Oh, was that you controlling the narrative?” Chloe asked.
Lucy made an elaborate bow. “News reported a gang-related incident.”
We had two severely injured but stable bratva soldiers who were convalescing in the medical facility of Ivan’s compound.
The NYPD—just for show and public appeasement—had detained Feliks and Lev and a couple of Cassano’s men.
They would be out within forty-eight hours.
As for those who died from the Vozhokari and the mercenaries, the bodies were on planes back to Russia and Europe.
Sato was taking care of Xiarra’s and Marena’s bodies. Wilson Ltd was undergoing new leadership. Maksim was handling that transition. Again, so glad it wasn’t my shit to deal with.
“Can I steal Chloe and Aralina for a few minutes?” Lucy asked.
Theo and I shrugged.
As the women walked away, I heard Lucy say, “Ophelia’s flight is arriving tomorrow morning. Either we let her recover from the jet lag, or Aralina will be hungover on her wedding day.”
The women laughed.
Oh, that was right. Lucy hadn’t met Ophelia. Maksim’s wife wasn’t able to attend her wedding to Kirill. Wait, was Ophelia still his wife?
Fuck, I worried about this shit now? People come and go, and that was why my loyalty was to the bratva. Since I was married to Chloe, Theo was essentially my brother-in-law. I cleared my throat. “Do you want a bachelor party?”
Man, that question was hard to get out. It was a serious question. My awkwardness didn’t get past Theo. A rough laugh escaped him. “No offense, but if you’re planning one, then I’ll pass.”
“Should I be offended, King?” My mouth twitched.
“You shouldn’t,” he muttered. “Look, I’m not much older than you, but I sure as hell feel ancient when it comes to these...activities.”
He left himself open there, but I wasn’t going down that road to antagonize Chloe’s brother.
Huge age gaps were nothing new with the bratva because Ivan was in his thirties when he married an eighteen-year-old Irina.
That was why the age difference didn’t bother them. I was nine years older than Chloe.
“Frivolities? Trivialities.”
“Listen, let’s just have a drink among family, okay?
” he said. He shoved his hands into his pockets.
“I don’t like Chloe or Aralina having to feel they have to pick sides between us because men can be such knuckleheads.
” He paused, and our eyes locked. A telltale smirk lifted the corner of his mouth.
“All right, I’m sorry that I have been such a dick about the bratva. ”
“Don’t choke on your words.” I needed a drink. Hell, I think Theo needed a drink.
“No, really,” Theo said with all the solemnness of a priest at a confessional. “Clearly, you have what it takes to protect Chloe and Sebastian. That’s all that matters to me. You need anything, and I mean anything, just let me know. I really want to make it up to my sister.”
An understanding passed between us, but before I could vocalize my acceptance, the door to the house slammed shut with a resounding bang and loud voices filled the foyer.
Rurik appeared in the living room's arched opening with Kirill and Dimitri behind him.
“Why don’t you have drinks in your hand?” he boomed, stalking into the room.
“It’s nine a.m.,” Theo muttered.
Rurik thumped my brother-in-law’s back. “Ah, vodka doesn’t care about the time. We’ll make a Russian out of you yet.” He dragged Theo away.
“Fuck me,” Kirill said. “Where is that vodka?”
But I was looking at Dimitri. “Why are you still here?”
He threw up his hands in an offended gesture. “That’s the thanks I get for nearly getting swiss-cheesed by an Uzi.”
“You enjoyed the action.” I dragged him in for a hug. “Thank you, Dima.” I had a feeling he wasn’t leaving soon, and I was coming around to having more Petrovs in our bratva. Sebastian would need that exposure.
“Where are the women?” Kirill glanced around.
“Planning Aralina’s bachelorette party,” I told him. “So where’s Maksim? I heard Ophelia is flying in.”
“She is, and he’s meeting the flight tomorrow morning.” He smirked. “Bright and early.”
Rurik returned and stood at the entrance. “Well? Let’s get this celebration started, Petrov! You’re a married man!”
Chloe
I put Sebastian in the crib. He was getting so crabby from being fussed over by “aunts and uncles,” Kolya had to call a stop to it.
We were in Ivan and Irina’s house. We decided to stay here until after Aralina and Theo’s wedding.
When a few weeks ago I dreaded that day, now I couldn’t wait to spend the festivities with my newfound family.
The bratva.
They went to war for my son. Not only that, the crime families united so Kolya and I could live free. I stroked the back of my fingers down Sebastian’s cheek.
So our son could live free.
The ruby ring Renée gave me glinted briefly.
Wherever you are, I hope you are at peace, Mom, because I have made mine.
A poignant emotion—closure—wrapped itself around my heart.
I’d transferred the ruby ring to my right hand.
On my left was a simple gold band. Kolya apologized earlier and said he was going to get me an engagement ring.
I grinned. Did we ever do things in order?
I didn’t need to hide or change identities any longer. Kolya and I were the perfect people to raise our son. Our vow of devotion erased all doubts and fears.
A tenderness expanded my heart. Love. Full of love.
“I’ll be back, baby boy.”
I left the room in search of my husband.
My husband.
I would have to get used to saying it, but I loved the way those two words rolled off my tongue.
I could hear the roaring laughter and chatter from outside. They were playing poker on the patio.
Irina and Ivan had since retired to the bedroom.
They were such gracious hosts. Irina made sure we had the biggest guest room and coordinated with Dora to transfer what my boy needed for the next few days.
And when my friend came by earlier with Sebastian’s things, she warmly chided me for what she called my “elopement,” but her tearful gaze brimmed with happiness and peace even when she teased I was Kolya’s problem now.
Kolya already hinted we should start looking for our own home again.
The staff must have dimmed the lights. The hallways were dark, but as I crossed the living room, I spotted Aralina sitting on the couch. She was sketching on a drawing pad.
“Hey, Theo left?”
She glanced up and nodded. She typed on her phone. “He was looking for you.”
“I was putting Sebastian to bed.”
“He’s hammered and lost at poker.”
I laughed. “Did the guys gang up on him?”
Her smile widened. “Rurik.”
“Somehow I think the guy is trouble.” That was when my eyes fell on a loose sheet of paper on the coffee table.
They were images of crescent marks that reminded me of Sebastian’s birthmark.
A few of them were black and white, but one of them was in full color of an orange flame on top of the crescent.
“What’s this?”
She twisted her mouth. “Sebastian’s birthmark triggered a memory.”
“A memory?”
“From the fire.”
I sat down beside her, and her sketchpad was full of the symbols or logos or whatever they were. “The fire where you lost your voice?”
She nodded and typed, “I’m hoping if I draw it over and over I will remember more…”
“Oh, Aralina…”
The door to the patio opened and shut. Aralina flipped her drawing pad closed and put it on top of the sheet on the coffee table. She probably didn’t mean for any of us to see it.
Kolya appeared. “Seva’s asleep?”
“Yes. Who’s winning?”
“Kirill.” A derisive smile curved his mouth. “But if you ask me, he’ll be losing the husband stake because Lucy is annoyed with him.” There was an amused yet carnal gleam in his eyes as he crossed the living room and stopped in front of me. “Unlike me, who knows when to quit while he’s ahead.”
He bent and swooped me up in his arms.
My heart catapulted into my throat at the sudden movement. “Kolya!”
“You don’t mind if I take my wife to bed, do you, Ara?”
I didn’t know what Aralina’s reply was, but I raised my arm and waved. “Night, Aralina.” Then to Kolya, I said, “Are you sure you’re not going to drop me? How much vodka did you drink?”
“Relax, Chloshka. I stopped drinking early.” I reveled in the warmth of his body and snuggled closer as he ascended the stairs.
“We are staying in one room. We’re not having sex in front of our son.” My voice sounded lame.
He chuckled. “I can be quiet.”
“Well, I can’t.”
And that was the truth.
He sighed. “It’s our wedding night.”
“Oh, is that supposed to make me feel sorry for you?”
Humor rumbled up his chest.
My husband was sexy as hell. And he was right. Even with Sebastian in the bedroom, I couldn’t help feeling the need to wrap myself around him.
He was quiet when we entered the bedroom. Quiet as he approached the crib, and we both peered down on our son.
“See,” he whispered in my ear. “Fast asleep.”
“Fine, what do you propose?”
“Let me take care of you, Chloshka.”
He lowered me to my feet, but then he stood there staring at me in the dark. The space between the curtain rod and the rings allowed the full moon to shoot moonbeams into parts of the room. It was shining on me now, casting a long shadow across the room.
“What?” I whispered.
“I have so much in here.” He clasped my hand and placed it over his heart. “I’ve loved you since that thunderstorm where I nearly lost you.”
“You love me?” He hinted of it, but for him to tell me directly filled my heart to the brim.
He glanced away briefly before meeting my eyes again. “You don’t have to say it back. I just—”
I pressed a finger to his mouth. “Stop.”
His brows drew together.
“Don’t explain.” Tears warmed my eyes. Kolya, my man of action. My protector. My husband. Father of my son. “Just say it.”
Kolya inched closer, letting the moonbeams illuminate his brilliant blue eyes. “I love you, Chloe Petrova.”
“And I love you, Nikolai Petrov.” I tipped my chin up. “Now kiss me.”
And he did.