Epilogue Two
Santo
Two years later
T he beeping of my phone wakes up my wife before it wakes me.
I hear her grumble as she reaches over me to grab it. I clasp her wrist before she can fling it across the room as she’s done a couple of times before.
This is my third replacement phone this month.
“Make it stop,” she whines, her voice still heavy with sleep. I gently pry the phone from her small fingers and answer it, bringing it to my ear.
“You couldn’t have called in the morning?” I seethe, my tone sharp.
“No, Valentina is missing,” Luciano Castillo, head of the Spanish mob, says urgently on the other end.
His voice cuts through my irritation like a knife. I sit up abruptly, causing Vasilisa to slip off of me and onto the bed with a huff.
“What do you need?” I ask, now fully awake and ready to handle whatever trouble has arisen.
“Any resources you have. Maksim and Angelo are already on their way here. Can you get back tonight?”
I glance at Vasilisa, who has turned on the lamp and is squinting sleepily at me with one hand protectively cradling her swollen belly. “I can make it work.”
Luciano ends the call, and Vasilisa sighs, pushing herself upright. “I know that look. Where are we going?”
“To Luciano’s. His sister is missing,” I say, getting out of bed and reaching for my clothes.
“Scarlet?!” Vasilisa asks fearfully, both hands moving instinctively around her belly.
“No, the other one, Valentina,” I clarify, pulling on a pair of pants.
Vasilisa slips out of bed, waddling toward the bathroom, her petite frame struggling under the weight of her heavily pregnant belly.
“I think maybe you should stay here, Dea.”
Vasilisa stops mid-stride turning abruptly to face me, her icy eyes locking onto mine as I button up my shirt.
“I go where you go.” Her tone leaving no room for argument.
“But the baby—”
“The baby is safe inside me where you left her.”
“Her?” I ask, freezing mid-movement. My heart skips a beat as her words register. “You said we couldn’t look at the envelope. You said the gender would be a surprise!”
Vasilisa’s face turns a shade of crimson, and she bites her lip guiltily. “I might have… peeked ,” she admits softly, avoiding my eyes.
“You peeked?” I ask incredulously, stepping closer to her. “After you made such a big deal about us waiting?”
She fidgets under my gaze, her hands resting on her belly. “I wanted to buy some baby clothes,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I wanted to know if we should pick pink or blue. I’m sorry, Santo.”
My irritation vanishes in an instant, replaced by a surge of joy that feels like it might burst out of me.
A girl.
We’re having a daughter.
“A daughter,” I murmur, my voice thick with emotion. I reach out, placing both hands gently on her belly. “We’re having a little girl?”
Vasilisa nods, her lips curving into a soft smile. “Yes. A little girl.”
For a moment, the world stops. The chaos of Luciano’s call, the worry about Valentina, all of it fades into the background. All I can think about is the tiny life growing inside my wife—the little girl who’s already stolen my heart.
“We’re having a daughter,” I repeat, my voice filled with awe. I drop to my knees in front of Vasilisa, pressing a kiss to her belly. “Dea, you’ve given me the greatest gift I could ever ask for.”
She laughs softly, her fingers threading through my hair. “You’re not upset that I peeked?”
I look up at her, my eyes shining with love. “Upset? Dea, I’m over the moon.” I stand, cupping her face in my hands. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive.”
Vasilisa chuckles softly. “Good,” she says, her tone light but commanding. “Now, can you please grab my hospital bag, just in case, and a couple of snack cakes to go?”
She smiles sweetly, mischief sparkling in her eyes as she waddles toward the bathroom.
“Thank you, Santo,” she adds over her shoulder, disappearing behind the door, likely already delighted by the thought of indulging in another one of her tasty treats.
My chest still tight with emotion. A daughter. My daughter. The idea fills me with a sense of pride and purpose I’ve never felt before. I glance at the hospital bag sitting in the corner of our room, already packed with all her essentials—snack cakes included.
A small smile tugs at my lips as I lift it.
Of course, she’d want more. My Vasilisa always plans for contingencies, but her cravings for her favorite cakes are the only indulgence she never tries to resist.
As I head to the kitchen to add a few more to the bag, my thoughts drift to the tiny life growing inside her.
My daughter. I’ve haven’t met her, but I already know I’d die for her.
For both of them.
I will protect them with everything I am—every ounce of strength, every resource, every piece of myself. Nothing and no one will ever harm them while I’m alive.
I tuck the extra snack cakes into the bag, my hand lingering for a moment on the zipper. This impromptu trip is just another reminder of the dark world we live in, but it doesn’t matter.
As long as I have Vasilisa and now our little girl, I’ll always have the light.