Epilogue Laila
EPILOGUE: LAILA
FIVE YEARS LATER
“Evalina!” I cry. “Where is your dress?”
My daughter’s bottle-blue eyes sharpen as she toddles towards me in nothing but her Gucci lace shoes. “Mama, me no Evalina! Me Lynn!”
I blow out a breath, channeling all of my many years of yoga training to stay calm. Mostly because I also had to channel my yoga training to strap my toddler into her dress in the first place. And now, the devil only knows where she’s stashed it.
“Lynn, honey,” I sigh, squatting down so that I’m at eye level with her. “Why are you walking around in your undies?”
“Pretty dress was itching.” She pats her diaper, smiling at her problem solving. Without warning, she whips around, jabbing a chubby hand towards the buffet table. “Mama, more cake! I love choco!”
“And who could blame you?” Arsen appears out of thin air and scoops Lynn into his arms. He drops a kiss to her bare belly, making her giggle.
“Cake, Papa!” she demands.
I narrow my eyes at my husband, who makes no mention of the sudden and mysterious disappearance of a five-hundred-dollar dress with sequins you could see from space. “She’s already had two slices, Arsen.”
“It’s a special night,” he demurs. “Mama’s opening yet another yoga studio, expanding her empire.”
I snort. “Five yoga studios don’t equal an ‘empire.’”
“I disagree. But if you’re not satisfied, we can always add a zero to that number.”
He’s not wrong—Lord knows there is no shortage of businessmen and investors beating down my door and waving giant checks in my face. The Rose Garden is a hot commodity in the world of boutique yoga studios, but no amount of money is worth being stripped of my creative control. My name and face is attached to my brand, which means it has to reflect me. Not some soulless, corporate non-entity.
“I’m fine with my little corner of the universe. I get to run my studios and spend time with my family. It’s the best of both worlds.”
Arsen studies me carefully. But in the end, he just shrugs. “As you wish, roza. ”
“Papa!” Lynn wheedles. “Cake, pwease!”
Arsen winks down at Lynn. “You’re just as determined as your mama.”
“And as stubborn as her papa.” I poke at the little dimple in her cheek. “Go find your dress and maybe you’ll get another piece of cake.”
She struggles out of Arsen’s arms and scampers off in search of her missing garment.
I shake my head after her. “That one’s gonna be a handful. Especially when she’s a teenager.”
“She’s never going to be a teenager. She’s going to stay just like this forever.”
“You said that when she was a baby, too, and look at her now—walking, talking, and issuing commands like she’s the real leader of the Bratva.”
Arsen smirks and wraps his arms around me from behind, steering me in the direction of our oldest daughter. She’s cocooned in the corner of the studio with Dom’s son Misha, her downy brown hair tucked against his curly blonde locks.
“I have a feeling Nina’s going to be a natural at it.”
I squirm the way I always do when Arsen brings up passing on his legacy to the girls. “There’s never been a female Bratva leader before.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Arsen says. “Why shouldn’t our girls break the glass ceiling?”
“I hate to be the un-feminist one between the two of us, but?—”
“Laila, I know your concerns,” Arsen says, cutting me off at the pass. “And I understand them. But it’s entirely up to Nina and Lynn whether they want a piece of what I’ve built. If not, I won’t stand in their way. In fact, I’ll support them in whatever dream they want. Whether it’s wrangling lions in a circus tent or kayaking across the ocean.”
“Are those the only options?”
He chuckles. “My point is, our daughters are going to be magnificent in whatever it is they set out to do. I just want them to be happy.”
I cup his face and sink into his chest. “I know you do. You’re a wonderful dad, Arsen Adamov. I couldn’t have asked for a better father for my children.”
He lifts one dark eyebrow. “And yet, you don’t want any more of them. If I was such a good father, it seems like you’d want to bless even more children with my magnanimous guidance and boundless love and?—”
I smack his chest. “Are you really gonna guilt trip me on the opening night of my new yoga studio?”
“I’m not above fighting dirty.”
“And I’m not above bribery. Play nice tonight and I’ll consider it.” I give him a wink and shimmy out of his arms before he can see the truth written on my face.
I find Kira and Guilia at the buffet table, instructing the staff on how to divide up the leftover food. After how helpful they were with my first studio, I did the smart thing and hired them as soon as I opened my second.
Guilia is the VP of the nonprofit I started in conjunction with The Rose Garden and Kira is the head of my marketing team.
“You’re still here?” Guilia balks when she sees me. “I would have thought you’d be on the jet to St. Barts by now.”
“I couldn’t just leave you two to clean up the mess.”
Kira hitches little Madeline on her hip. “Please. That’s what we’re here for. You’ve been working so hard on this latest launch, you deserve some time alone with the hubby.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” I admit.
Guilia gives me a once-over. “You are absolutely radiant tonight, Laila.”
I smile innocently. “Why, thank you. Tonight’s opening was a success. It’s enough to make anyone glow.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.”
She winks at me, and I’m positive she’s already guessed my little secret. But I’m not about to confirm the news to anyone before I tell Arsen.
“You sure you can handle both of my girls this week, Guilia?” I ask again, glancing over at Nina and Misha.
My little Evalina might miss us, but I don’t have to worry about Nina. She and Misha are practically chained at the hip. Kira and I like to joke that one day we’ll be babysitting our grandchildren together. But Arsen and Dominik don’t find that quite as amusing as we do.
Guilia rolls her eyes. “Of course. Grigory’s over the moon that his cousins are going to be spending four whole nights with us. And Kira said she’d bring Misha and Madeline over this weekend so they can all play together.”
Suddenly, Evalina sprints at me and latches her little arms around my legs. “Cuddles, Mama!”
I pat her back, which is bare because she’s still without her dress. But it comes away sticky, because she’s now clothed in a thick layer of chocolate frosting instead.
Guilia plucks her off of me, holding her as lovingly as she can at arm’s length. “We’ll be fine. Polina and Evelyn are going to pop in for an extra set of hands, too.” She walks Evalina towards the sink in the back of the studio. “You just go and enjoy your romantic getaway with your hot husband. We’re all set here.”
I can’t help but smile. “Oh, I intend to.”
“Arsen?” I call over my shoulder. “A view like this legally can’t be enjoyed alone.”
I’m lying in the cushioned lounge chair on our balcony that is something straight out of Aladdin . I know because it just so happens to be Nina’s favorite Disney movie. Even Arsen can belt every single word from “A Whole New World” —a fact that he vehemently denies to everyone who isn’t me.
The man himself appears in the balcony, shirtless and with sweats slung low on his hips. “Sorry, I wanted to call Polina and check on the girls.”
“And?”
“They’re doing good. Already asleep.”
I thought I’d be the anxious one, calling every few hours to see how things are going at home, but the warm air and silence has done wonders for my nerves. Arsen is the one having trouble letting go.
“I love how protective you are of them,” I sigh, crossing my legs so my silk robe parts at the thighs. “It’s a huge turn-on.”
His eyes settle on me with a singular focus. “Is it just as much of a turn-on if we stop talking about the kids and I do unspeakable things to you on this balcony instead?”
“Maybe. You wanna come over here and find out?”
Arsen drops to his knees beside my lounge chair. The railing blocks the view of the beach below, so we’re staring out across the ocean. It’s a clear night and stars wink down at us in all their golden glory. If I were here with anyone else, I wouldn’t have been able to look away.
But the only thing more beautiful than the inky blue sky is the man staring at me. His eyes put the moon to shame.
“I’m so proud of you.”
I can’t help but blush. “I’m already turned-on. You don’t have to butter me up.”
He parts my legs, sliding his hand under my robe. “You’ve built your business and taken care of our family. You’re unstoppable.”
“I couldn’t have done any of it without you.”
“I love our girls,” he says softly. “But I’m glad it’s just the two of us for the next five days.”
I snake my hands around his neck. “Well, about that… There’s something I want to tell you.”
“Hm,” he growls distractedly, his fingers slipping between my legs. “Maybe it can wait.”
“You act like we haven’t had sex in weeks.”
“Feels that way.”
I laugh. “We had sex twice yesterday.”
“Quickies,” he scoffs dismissively, circling his finger over my skin. “They hardly count.”
“Tell that to my back! That last round in the laundry room was too acrobatic for a woman who has had two kids.”
He gives me a sympathetic smile that says he’d gladly do it all again. “I’ll lay a cushion down for you next time.”
“Such a gentleman.”
“That’s me.” He tugs on the tie of my robe and pushes the silk to the sides, exposing my naked body to the stars. “A perfect gentleman.”
Before I can argue, he presses a kiss between my legs. He splits me with his tongue, touching me in a way only someone who has been touching me daily for the last six years could do. He knows my body as well as his own.
Still, foreplay has become rarer and rarer these days. Between running our own business and taking care of the girls, there’s not much time left for lovemaking. Efficiency is the name of the game.
But not tonight.
Tonight, there’s no work.
No children.
No distractions.
I curl my fingers through Arsen’s hair as he goes down on me, eating me out as though we didn’t just indulge in a private, seven-course tasting menu.
He strokes his hands up my body, gently massaging my nipples as I roll my hips against his face.
“God, yes!” My voice is small against the wide open sky—which is good, because when Arsen thrusts his tongue into me, I come with a scream for all the stars to hear.
As I return to sanity, Arsen slowly kisses his way up my body. I wind my legs around him and try to drag him higher. “It’s your turn.”
But he is content to lavish my breasts with attention until I’m all worked up again. “Oh, no… I’m not done with you yet.”
Years of getting straight to the point has apparently made me impatient. I drape my hand around his neck and pull his forehead to mine. “I want you inside of me,” I murmur. “I want you to fill me up.”
His pupils expand. “Be careful what you wish for, roza . I just might choose to misunderstand that request and put another baby in you.”
“That’s not gonna happen.”
He sighs, running his hands over my stomach. Faded stretch marks weave around my hips, mingling with my other scar. “I don’t want to pressure you, but I also don’t understand why you don’t want this. You love being a mother. And our girls are perfect.”
I press a finger against his lips. “Not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“I mean, that’s not gonna happen because… it’s already happened.”
He stares at me unblinkingly for a moment. Then his eyes drop to my flat stomach. “You’re not… Are you pregnant?”
Joy, somewhere between a sob and laughter, bursts out of me. “I took a test last week.”
“But… how?” He gawks. “You’re on the pill.”
“I was… until I tossed them in the trash two months ago. I figured I’d give you a little surprise.”
Arsen tucks me against his chest and stands up, hoisting me in the air. I cry out, cold wind hitting our naked bodies as he spins us around and roars, “This is the best fucking news!” Just as suddenly, he sets me down and looks deep into my eyes. “And you’re sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” His eyes brighten, and I press my palm to his heart. “You’re going to be a papa again. I think, this time, it’s gonna be a boy.”
“Honestly, I don’t care. I just want another child that’s half you and half me.”
I stroke my stomach. “I can manage that.”
He smiles down at me, but slowly, the look in his eyes shifts and darkens. He sets me down on my feet and leads me into our room.
“You don’t want to stay on the balcony?”
He shakes his head and spreads me out on the bed, kneading his fingers over every inch of my body the way he has for years, working away the pain in my hip that hardly bothers me anymore.
Turns out, Arsen Adamov is the only painkiller I need.
“I need space for what I have planned. Space and time.” He whips a pillow from the top of the bed and positions it under my hips, making me laugh. “So you should get comfortable. We might be here for a while.”