42. Luna
Luna
Isip on my drink, watching Raven and her father from across the club.
This was worth it.
Flying Mr. Yang out without Raven finding out was an absolute nightmare, considering our connections to the EAO and our new partnership with the Bratva.
I had to pull some serious strings and Amani?
Well, she had to literally blackmail someone to keep it quiet that an active Senator is attending a mafia party.
Raven and her father had a falling out when she joined the EAO.
He didn’t understand.
And she never told him the real reason why.
Amani and I tried to convince her to—to sit him down, explain, tell him the truth.
But in the end, that was her story to tell.
So we didn’t push it.
And now, watching them finally talking, watching Mr. Yang’s expression soften as he listens, his hand on Raven’s shoulder, and her infamous, impenetrable walls—cracking just enough…
Yeah.
This was worth it.
The party is in full swing. The club is packed, the music pulsing through the air, a mix of deep bass and champagne laughter.
The Bratva men are loosening up, some even attempting to dance—and failing spectacularly.
The EAO women? Absolutely thriving.
Konstantin has not stopped staring at Amani all night, and I swear to God, if he doesn’t shoot his shot soon, I will do it for him.
Dimitri?
He’s been following Raven around like a lost puppy, cracking jokes, trying to impress her father, and generally making an absolute fool of himself.
It’s painful to watch.
“Are we placing bets on how long it takes for Raven to snap and stab him?” Amani muses, sipping her cocktail.
I hum, pretending to think. “Ten minutes.”
“Five.”
We clink glasses in agreement.
There was a time—not too long ago—when I didn’t think I’d make it past twenty-two.
Back then, my world was blood and silence—sharp steel and survival.
I couldn’t imagine a future that wasn’t soaked in red. I didn’t dare hope for anything more than my next breath.
But now…
Now, I wake up to fresh flowers on my nightstand.
To tea, perfectly brewed, waiting for me before I open my eyes.
To a man who brushes my hair away from my face with fingers that have snapped necks—so gentle it makes my chest ache.
A man who, when I snap or lash out—because the scars don’t fade just because you fall in love—doesn’t meet fire with fire.
He waits.
Patient. Steady.
Unmoving, even when I try to push him away.
Yes, Vladimir is clingy as hell. He watches me like he expects me to disappear. Like I’m a fever dream he’s terrified to wake from.
But when I need space, he gives it.
He doesn’t like it, but he respects it.
He lets me breathe and come back on my own—without guilt, punishment, or fear.
He’s teaching me what it means to trust a partner again.
Not just in battle but in life.
In the quiet moments.
The domestic ones.
The ones I never thought I’d live long enough to experience.
I glance around, my heart clenching at the sight before me.
Raven is sitting beside her father, talking animatedly with Amani, who is aggressively gesturing while trying to prove a point. Mr. Yang watches them both with an expression caught between amusement and disbelief—like he can’t decide whether to be impressed or horrified.
Konstantin is next to Amani, his eyes lingering a little too long every time she looks away.
And Dimitri?
He’s hovering near Raven, absolutely pretending not to be staring at her like she hung the damn moon while also attempting to charm her father with exactly zero subtlety.
But me?
I’m not plotting. I’m not analyzing exits. I’m not calculating threats.
I’m just watching.
Soaking it in.
Breathing.
I’m happy.
The realization hits me like a punch to the gut.
It’s quiet, terrifying happiness that makes your hands shake because it feels too good to be real.
But it is real.
Because he made it real.
Because he gave me something I never thought I deserved.
And for the first time in my life, I know exactly what I want to do next.
I’m going to tell Vladimir that I love him.
Not just because he deserves to hear it.
But because I need to say it.
To admit it.
To own it.
It’s not just about words.
It’s about giving him the pieces of me I’ve kept buried, the ones I thought were too broken to hand over.
But they’re his.
All of them.
And that terrifies me.
But I think…
I think I’m finally ready.
“So, Mr. Yang.” Dimitri leans forward, his usual grin firmly in place. “Tell us, what was Raven like as a kid?”
Raven immediately groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. "No."
Dimitri smirks. “Yes.”
Mr. Yang chuckles, giving his daughter a knowing look before turning back to the group. “Well, for starters, she was a loving little girl.”
All the men collectively gasp.
“No.”
“Not Raven.”
Raven’s glare sharpens. “You traitors.”
Mr. Yang laughs. “Oh, don’t be fooled. She was also a menace. Smart as hell, but an absolute menace.” He shakes his head fondly. “She once hacked into the school’s system and changed her schedule to have free periods whenever she wanted.”
Amani chokes on her drink. “Wait. You did what? Is that how you got out of chemistry freshman year?”
Raven shrugs, completely unapologetic. “It worked, didn’t it?”
Mr. Yang shakes his head, sighing. “She also had a habit of sneaking out with these two, meeting their little ‘friends’ and coming home with bruises.”
I smirk. “Ahhh, the street fights?”
Raven grins, unrepentant. “Obviously.”
Dimitri looks like he’s never been more in love. “I swear to God, Raven, you’re the love of my life.”
Raven rolls her eyes so hard I’m surprised she doesn’t pass out.
Then Mr. Yang turns to Vladimir, his expression thoughtful. “And you, Mr. Petrov? You married into this chaos willingly?”
Vladimir, who has been quietly observing the entire exchange, smirks, his arm draped lazily over my chair. His fingers trace slow circles on my exposed back and tattoo, sending shivers down my spine.
“Not just willingly.” His voice is smooth and confident. “Happily.”
Amani fake gags. “Disgusting.”
Konstantin nods. “Truly.”
Dimitri, ever the dramatic one, slaps a hand over his chest. “It wounds me, honestly. My best friend, stolen away by the little tyrant sitting next to him.”
Vlad doesn’t even look at him. “Don't call my wife a tyrant and go cry about it.”
“Oh, I will.” Dimitri sighs. “Into Raven’s arms, probably.”
Raven immediately shoots him a look. “Try it, and you’ll be crying from a stab wound.”
Dimitri grins. “You say that like I wouldn’t enjoy it.”
Vladimir curses under his breath. “For fuck’s sake.”
Mr. Yang just bursts out laughing. “This is the best entertainment I’ve had in years.”
Raven glares at Dimitri, but I don’t miss the way her lips twitch like she’s fighting a smile.
As the laughter settles, Mr. Yang’s gaze flicks to Vladimir again. He tilts his head, his expression unreadable.
“Tell me, Mr. Petrov… how exactly did Luna get caught up with the Bratva?”
Silence.
Laughter cracks through the air, rich and unrestrained.
Vladimir shakes his head, a wry smile playing at his lips, amusement flickering cold and sharp in his eyes. “Caught up with? Mr. Yang, my wife, owns me. And she knows it.”
Dimitri’s grin glints with trouble. “You should’ve seen him when she was gone.”
Vladimir’s head snaps toward him, his tone turning glacial. “Brat,” he growls, the threat thick and unmistakable, “I will put you six feet under. No flowers. No speech.”
Dimitri, unbothered and basking in chaos, chuckles. “Look at him. Completely ruined.”
Vlad’s voice drops lower—soft, lethal. “Say one more word, Dima. I dare you.”
Mr. Yang just chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. Luna’s always been the stubborn one. Even as a kid, she had this fire in her. That’s how she and these two”—he nods toward Amani and Raven—“became inseparable.”
Amani grins. “You and my mom used to say we were glued together.”
Mr. Yang nods. “That’s because we were.” He exhales, a bit of nostalgia creeping into his voice. “Your mom, Luna’s dad, and I met in college. It’s funny how life works out. We always said our kids would grow up together. And somehow… you did.”
Raven softens. “Even after everything, we stuck together.”
I squeeze Vlad’s hand under the table, warmth blooming in my chest.
As the night winds down, Vladimir tugs me closer, his breath warm against my temple.
“You ready to go home, moya Luna?”
I nod, resting my hand over his. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
The group starts making their way toward the exit, saying their goodbyes, but I barely register it.
Because all I can think about is what I’m about to do.
I’m going to tell Vladimir Petrov that I love him.
And I’m pretty sure once I do, there’s no going back.