Epilogue Aria
In the end, I change my mind and decide to marry Maksim before the baby arrives.
The ceremony is simple—just us, Nikolai, Daniel, and a judge in a courthouse in White Plains.
There’s no elaborate wedding, or hundreds of guests.
It’s just the people who matter most, bearing witness as Maksim and I exchange vows.
“I, Maksim Dmitrievich Sokolov, take you, Ariana Marie Delano, to be my lawfully wedded wife…”
His voice is steady, his gray eyes never leave mine. The ring he slides onto my finger—a simple platinum band to match my engagement ring—feels like a promise and a claim all at once.
When it’s my turn, my voice shakes slightly. “I, Ariana Marie Delano, take you, Maksim Dmitrievich Sokolov, to be my lawfully wedded husband…”
I’m a million years pregnant, enormous and uncomfortable in the simple cream dress I bought specifically because it was the only thing that fit. But I’ve never felt more beautiful than I do right now, standing before this man who loves me with a ferocity that still takes my breath away.
“You may kiss your bride.”
Maksim kisses me softly, one hand on my face and the other resting protectively on my swollen belly where our daughter or son is already making their presence known with strong kicks.
Daniel cheers beside us while even Nikolai manages a small smile.
“Mama and Papa are married!” Daniel yells, jumping into the air with joy.
We’ll have a big wedding later, once the baby arrives and I can actually fit into a wedding dress. But this quiet ceremony making everything legal and official is what matters. Our children will have their parents’ names. Our family will be legitimate in every way that counts.
After the ceremony, we handle the paperwork to officially change Daniel’s name. Daniel Mitchell becomes Daniel Sokolov and watching my son sign his new name for the first time makes me cry.
“Look, Mama!” He holds up the document proudly. “I’m Daniel Sokolov now. For real!”
For the next week, he tells everyone who will listen. The mailman. The grocery store clerk. His teacher. His friends at school.
“I’m Daniel Sokolov. That’s my Papa’s name. We’re a real family now.”
Every time he says it, I see Maksim’s face soften with pride and love.
Life has settled into something I never thought possible.
We live in our beautiful house in Westchester, far enough from the Bratva world to feel normal but close enough that Nikolai can visit when he wants.
Daniel is doing amazing. He’s doing incredibly well at school.
His teacher says he’s at the top of his class in reading, and his math skills are improving.
He’s a natural leader on the playground.
He has friends now with Colton and Charlotte and there’s another boy named Jake who’s slowly infiltrating their group due to his and Daniel’s love of pirates.
He still has nightmares occasionally. I’ll wake to his screams and find him sitting up in bed, trembling and crying about not being able to breathe, but they’re getting less frequent.
Maksim is devoted to us in ways that surprise me sometimes. He picks Daniel up from school every single day. He helps with homework every evening and reads bedtime stories even when he’s exhausted from meetings or business calls.
And with me, he’s attentive in ways I didn’t know men could be.
He rubs my swollen feet without being asked and helps me get comfortable at night when my huge belly makes sleeping impossible.
He talks to the baby through my stomach, switching between English and Russian, telling our unborn child about their big brother and their family and how loved they already are.
He’s all I ever wanted in a husband and father of my children.
We host a dinner party on a beautiful evening to celebrate our marriage.
The weather is perfect with a gentle breeze carrying the scent of roses from the garden. We’ve invited the Brennans and the Santoros—families connected through business. It’s a complicated web of relationships that took me weeks to fully understand, and sometimes I’m not sure if I’ve gotten it.
Cillian Brennan arrives first with his wife Valentina and their daughter Nora.
Cillian is tall and imposing with red hair and cold blue eyes that remind me he’s every bit as dangerous as Maksim and Nikolai.
Valentina is his opposite in coloring with almost-black hair, dark eyes, and olive skin, but she’s equally formidable.
She was born a Santoro, and the way she carries herself makes it clear she hasn’t forgotten her roots even though she’s now a Brennan.
Nora is just learning to walk, wobbling on unsteady legs, with fine bright blonde hair that surprises me every time I see her because neither parent is blonde. She’s dressed in a pink dress with flowers, and she giggles when Daniel crouches down to say hello.
Leo Santoro arrives minutes later with his wife Emma and their daughter Seraphina. Leo looks like Valentina, which makes sense considering they’re siblings.
Emma is Cillian’s cousin, a Brennan by birth who married into the Santoro family—apparently it was quite the scandal, Maksim hasn’t told me the entire details yet. She’s petite with red hair and green eyes, and she has a fire to her that becomes apparent within minutes of meeting her.
“Finally!” Emma says, breezing into the house like she owns it. “We’ve been trying to schedule this for weeks but someone”—she shoots a look at her husband—“kept having ‘urgent business’ that couldn’t wait.”
“It was urgent,” Leo says mildly, but there’s amusement in his dark eyes as he gazes fondly at his wife.
“Bah. Everything is urgent with you. The world could be ending and you’d still insist on one more meeting.”
Seraphina runs past her parents into the house, all boundless nearly three-year-old energy. She has her father’s dark curls, but her mother’s fierce personality is already evident.
“Seraphina Santoro, you do not run in other people’s houses!” Emma calls after her.
“She’s fine,” I assure her, laughing. “Let her play.”
“See?” Seraphina yells from somewhere deeper in the house. “I win!”
Emma sighs dramatically and shakes her head. “She’s going to be the death of me. Leo, your daughter is out of control.”
“She’s your daughter when she’s being difficult,” Leo says, deadpan.
“Can I take them outside?” Daniel asks eagerly. “I’ll watch them. I promise.”
“Of course,” I tell him.
“Be careful with them,” Maksim tells Daniel. “Seraphina and Nora are very little. You will need to be responsible for them.”
“I will Papa,” Daniel says solemnly.
“And stay where we can see you from the window,” I add in.
Daniel nods. “I will, Mama. Come on, Seraphina! Come on, Nora! Let’s go play!”
The children disappear into the yard under Daniel’s supervision while the adults gather in the dining room.
The table is beautiful. I spent hours setting it earlier, wanting everything to be perfect. The food is laid out buffet-style since I’m too pregnant to manage formal service. Conversation flows easily as we eat and drink.
Almost immediately, the sibling dynamic between Leo and Valentina becomes apparent. They bicker with the ease of people who’ve known each other their entire lives.
“You’re still using that accountant?” Valentina asks her brother. “The one who can’t tell the difference between net and gross?”
Her brother rolls his eyes. “He’s competent, Val,” Leo says.
“He’s an idiot. I sent you three recommendations.”
“I don’t need recommendations from someone who thinks quarterly reports should include color-coded graphs.”
“Color-coded graphs are helpful! They make trends easier to identify!”
“They make you look like you’re presenting to kindergarteners.”
I’m trying not to laugh as I watch them bicker like one would watch a tennis match, but Emma has no such restraint. She’s grinning at her husband. “She has a point. Your last quarterly report looked like it was typed on a typewriter from 1987.”
“It was professional,” Leo says with dignity.
“It was boring,” Valentina and Emma say in unison, then laugh.
Cillian leans toward me and Maksim. “This is what every family dinner is like. They gang up on Leo. He pretends to be annoyed. Everyone has a good time.”
“I’m sitting right here,” Leo complains.
“We know,” Emma tells him sweetly then turns to me. “So, Aria, how are you feeling? Any signs the baby’s coming soon?”
“Not yet, thank god. I’m due in a week, but Dr. Petrov says first babies are often late.”
“I thought I was going to be pregnant forever with Sera,” Emma says. “It sucked.”
“You were unbearable,” Leo says, but his voice is fond as he looks at his wife with love in his eyes. “You couldn’t sleep or get comfortable. You cried at everything.”
Emma’s green eyes widen. “I was growing a human! I had every right to be emotional!” she protests.
“You cried because I brought you the wrong kind of ice cream.”
“It was mint chocolate chip! I specifically said cookie dough!”
“They’re both ice cream, Em.”
“They are completely different!”
The table erupts in laughter. Even Nikolai is smiling, which is rare for him.
“At least Emma had an excuse,” Valentina says to her brother, defending her best friend. “You were just as emotional and you weren’t even pregnant.”
Leo makes a face. “I was not emotional—”
“You cried when Seraphina was born.”
“That’s a father’s prerogative.”
“You also cried when she took her first steps," Valentina reminds him.
“Again, father’s prerogative.”
“And when she said her first word.”
Leo rolls his eyes. “Are you finished?”
“And when—”
“Valentina, I will disown you,” Leo threatens.
“No, you won’t. You love me too much.”
I’m laughing, watching these families who’ve woven their lives together in complicated ways. They’ve created bonds that go beyond territory or power. I rub my belly, thinking of Daniel’s little sibling. I can’t wait to see them together. I know they’ll be the best of friends despite their age gap.
Maksim’s hand finds mine under the table, squeezing gently. When I look at him, his eyes are soft.