EPILOGUE
Anastasia
Twenty-five years later…
As the actors take their final bows and the entire theater erupts with applause around us, I let out a happy sigh.
“Gosh, that was amazing,” Isobel, my youngest, says with a dreamy smile on her face. “I want to be an actress.”
God, here we go again.
At nineteen, she’s changed her mind more times than I can count. She can’t decide what she wants to do with her future. She’ll obsess about becoming an actress for three to six months until the next best thing catches her eye.
“Sure,” Andrea, our twenty-one-year-old who we named after Andrei, teases her sister. “You couldn’t even give a speech for your graduation. I’d like to see you get up on stage.”
“Shut up,” Isobel mumbles.
“Don’t start,” I say in my mom voice, and when I get up and walk toward the side corridor to say hi to Charlotte, who’s still working here, the girls quickly catch up with me.
Letting out another sigh, I say, “This is where your father and I met.”
Isobel chuckles. “We know, Mam. You’ve told us the story a kazillion times.”
Whenever I’ve come back here, I always remember the ridiculously handsome man walking into my workshop with a loose button.
In the twenty-five years we’ve been married, Rodian has never ceased to make me feel as special as he did that night.
“There’s Charlotte,” Andrea points out.
She inherited my love for sewing and is studying fashion. During our visits, she loves talking to Charlotte and picking her brain.
I wait for Andrea to hug my former boss before I step closer. “It’s so good to see you.”
“I was so happy when you said you’re coming for a visit. It’s been too long,” Charlotte replies while kissing me lightly on the cheek before hugging Isobel, whose eyes are firmly fixed on the lead actor.
“Don’t think about it,” Andrea mutters to her sister. “Pap will shit himself if you come home with an actor.”
“Language,” I chastise my daughter before we follow Charlotte down the hallway toward my old workshop.
“Lord, how I miss you,” she mutters, tired lines on her face. “What I’d give to find a seamstress with your talent. Move back to the UK and come work for me.”
I let out a chuckle. “Sorry, Charlotte. I’m quite happy at the theater where I’m currently working, and Russia is home.”
“I’ll just have to suffer with the incompetent people they saddle me with,” she complains.
Andrea clears her throat loudly. “Excuse me. What about me?”
“You’re busy studying,” Charlotte replies, a spark of hope igniting in her eyes. She looks at Andrea from over the rim of her glasses that are perched on her nose. “But once you’re done and you need a job, I’d be over the moon to have you.”
“Wouldn’t that be awesome, Mam? Me starting my career at the same place where you did?”
“I think I’d cry my eyes out.” It would be a wonderful place for Andrea to work. Glancing at Charlotte, I ask, “Will you still be here, though? When are you retiring?”
“I’m only seventy-two. I’ll retire when I’m dead.”
We chuckle, but as I walk into my workshop, I come to a sudden stop and gasp.
I’m so surprised to see Rodian and Ruslan, our oldest. They didn’t say anything about coming to the UK.
Then my eye catches on Rodian’s hand as he holds up a button. “I can see you’re busy.” The corner of his mouth lifts. “Would you mind sewing it back on?”
Oh my God!
I’m transported back to a time when his temples weren’t gray and the lines on his face weren’t as deep.
“Not at all,” I whisper, my voice hoarse from the overwhelming emotions filling my heart.
Charlotte pulls the door shut with a wink while Andrea brings me a needle and thread.
Taking the button from Rodian, I smile from ear to ear, loving the surprise.
As I begin to sew it back on, he says, “In this room, you stole my heart, and for the past thirty years you’ve cherished it. Being loved by you is the most extraordinary experience of my life. Because you chose me, I got to create three masterpieces with you. Half of me and half of you.”
“Dammit,” I sob as the tears begin to roll down my cheeks, and I’m unable to get the button on. In the midst of menopause, the tears come way too easily.
Rodian steps closer, his expression tender as he looks at me. “You were my first love, and you will be my last.”
Passing the button and needle back to Andrea, I throw my arms around Rodian’s neck and lift myself onto my tiptoes so I can kiss that poetic mouth of his.
Like always, he lifts my feet off the floor as he holds me tightly, his mouth claiming mine with the passion that’s never lessened but instead grown throughout our lives.
Ruslan clears his throat.
“Not what I wanted to see today, guys,” Andrea mutters, while Isobel whisper-hisses, “Shush. It’s romantic.”
Chuckling, I pull back, and staring deep into the ice-blue eyes that have only melted for me, I say, “After all these years, you are still my white knight, even if you’re the villain to others.
You’ve given me a beautiful life filled with so much love it sometimes feels like a dream.
” My chin quivers as I whisper, “Yes, that’s what you are. My dream come true.”
“Aww…” Isobel sniffles. “I swear, if I don’t get someone who makes me feel the way Pap makes Mam feel, I won’t get married.”
“We have a surprise for you,” Ruslan says as he goes to open the door.
“Ooooh, you know I love surprises,” I reply, but before I can follow my son, Rodian hooks an arm around me, tips me backward, and proceeds to kiss the living daylights out of me.
By the time he lifts his head, I’m breathless and swooning hard for my man, wishing we were alone.
With a hungry expression, he grumbles, “Now you can get your surprise.”
We link our fingers, and I lean into his side as we leave the workshop.
My cheeks begin to hurt from all the smiling, and when we step out of the theater, I gasp for a second time as I lay eyes on a white van.
The side door is open, and I can see colorful fabrics and boxes of Lindt chocolate inside it.
“I can’t believe you remembered after all this time!”
“I remember every single thing, moya krasavitsa,” Rodian says, pressing a kiss to the side of my head before leading me to the van. “I’m kidnapping you for the honeymoon we never got to go on.”
My gaze flies to his. “But what about work?”
“Ruslan will manage everything in my stead.”
I look at our son, wondering if he’s ready to lead the Bratva.
“Andrei and Sergei will be there to help. No worrying.” Rodian bends, and placing his arms beneath my back and knees, he lifts me into the air and carries me bridal-style to the van. “You’re all mine for the next three months.”
“Dear Lord. Three months?!” Laughter bubbles from me as my husband kidnaps me while our children clap and cheer.
“Have fun, you guys!” Andrea calls out.
“Bye!” Isobel says, “Bring me lots of souvenirs.”
“Check in with me at least every three days,” Ruslan orders, his voice carrying the no-nonsense tone he inherited from his father.
Instead of getting into the front, Rodian sets me down on a bench between the fabrics and chocolates.
“Who’s driving?” I ask when he gets in and pulls the door shut.
“Kasey and Andrian. I’d love for it to be just the two of us, but we still need guards, and while Sergei and Andrei watch over our kids and the business, their sons will be our protection so I can give all my attention to you.”
Rodian sits down beside me and instantly pulls me closer.
“Where are we going?” I ask as I place my hand on his chest.
“A road trip to Ireland, and from there we’re flying to Norway, then Venice, then Singapore. I call it the Anastasia’s-favorites-tour.”
“You are amazing. I love you so much.”
“Show me how much,” he demands before I’m hauled onto his lap, and he crushes his mouth to mine.
While I move my dress out of the way and Rodian unzips his suit pants, I chuckle every time the van goes over a bump and we’re jostled.
“God, I feel like a teenager,” I grin against his lips.
I feel his manhood at my opening, and when he fills me with a long, hard stroke, I moan.
I get lost in Rodian like I’ve done thousands of times over the past twenty-five years, and once again, I feel special and like the luckiest woman alive.
“Ty moyo vsyo, moya krasavitsa.”
The End.
Thank you for reading Savage Truce.