Chapter 29
IVY
Hours later, when my sister arrives home from her classes, she finds Maksim and me in my bedroom, half-kneeling on the carpet as we sort through piles of clothes and throw them into my open suitcase.
Though I know there’s hardly a point in taking most of these things to Russia—Maksim has made it more than clear that he plans to replace just about everything I own with rich finery—I still find comfort in the act.
Folding my favorite hoodie, shoving in the soft flannel shirt I stole from Lettie last year, zipping up Leo’s worn little backpack with his name stitched on the inside—it makes this move feel a little less like I’m abandoning my whole life and a little more like I’m carrying it with me. Even if just symbolically.
Maksim doesn’t say much, but his fingers brush mine occasionally as we work in tandem, and I feel that same ridiculous flutter in my chest every time he looks at me like this is exactly where he belongs.
My sister’s knock is sharp but brief, giving me no time to brace before the door creaks open. She leans halfway into the room with her bag still slung over one shoulder. “Hey, Ivy, do you know why Mom and Dad are—”
Her words evaporate the moment her eyes land on Maksim sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of my open closet, holding one of Leo’s stuffed animals like he has no idea what to do with it.
Her gaze flicks to me.
Then back to him.
“Oh,” she says, voice laced with smug amusement. “So that’s why they’re acting all weird downstairs.”
Maksim lifts an eyebrow, clearly amused by her lack of surprise. “Lettie.”
She nods with mock solemnity. “Maksim.”
I groan and toss the pair of jeans I’d been folding onto the bed. “Acting weird how?”
Lettie pushes the door shut behind her with the toe of her boot and walks further into the room, her hair slightly windblown from the walk home.
“Mom’s being all weepy. She’s got Leo in the kitchen with her right now and was showing him how to roll dough and burst into tears when he asked if she’d help him make Christmas cookies like last year.” She dramatically flops down across my bed, practically draping herself over my pile of clothing.
Maksim lets out a quiet snort of laughter, glancing up from where he’s folding one of Leo’s shirts.
I blink. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope,” Lettie says, popping the P. “She was fully sobbing into the flour like he’s being shipped off to a monastery in the Alps or something.
Dad’s pretending to read the paper, but I swear he hasn’t turned a page in twenty minutes.
Just keeps glancing out the window like the Mafia is coming to snatch you up in broad daylight. Isn’t that crazy?”
I shoot a dry look at Maksim. “Little late for that.”
He smirks, not bothering to argue.
Lettie sits up a little straighter, finally noticing the half-packed bags and the growing mountain of clothes in the center of the room. “You two doing some spring cleaning or...?”
I hesitate, but Maksim and I share a brief look. There’s no use hiding it now. “Actually… I’m packing to go to Russia.”
Lettie freezes for a full beat, staring at me like the words haven’t fully registered. Then she slowly lowers her legs off the bed and blinks again. “Wait. What?”
I nod, fingers fumbling for the zipper on the side of my suitcase. “We’re leaving in a couple of days.”
Her eyes go wide. “Are you serious? You’re just up and leaving?”
“I’m following your advice. Remember how you lectured me about the whole, there’s no protecting Leo since he’ll always be Maksim’s heir?”
She momentarily forgets her panic, choosing then to smirk and toss her hair back over her shoulder. “Sounds like the kind of sage advice I would give you.”
Maksim snorts again, setting aside Leo’s toy. “You are welcome to visit anytime. Your family is always welcome in Russia. You will all be treated with the same respect and care as any honored guest.”
Lettie’s brows lift slightly, the warmth in his tone clearly catching her off guard. But true to form, she recovers fast, flashing a grin that’s all mischief. “Say, you don’t suppose you’ve got room for one more on that fancy private jet of yours, do you?”
My brow raises. “Why, volunteering your services as our live-in babysitter?”
She puts a hand to her chest, feigning offense. “Excuse you. I’m an auntie, thank you very much. A fun aunt. I would never impose such a boring title on myself. But no. I was thinking more like a… study abroad thing?”
That makes Maksim tilt his head, intrigued.
I glance between them, my expression slowly shifting into disbelief. “Wait. You actually want to live in Russia?”
“You actually want to live in Russia, Lettie?” I ask, surprised.
Lettie flops backward onto the bed again. “I mean… maybe? Not forever. Just for a bit. One semester, maybe two. Or more. Whatever.”
I stare at her, dumbfounded. “You, Lettie Bennett, want to voluntarily leave the country. For snow… in Russia.”
“Why are you acting like I just said I want to relocate to the moon?” she mutters, eyes rolling toward the ceiling. “I’ve got student loan debt and zero dating prospects. Why not go somewhere with castles and accents and possibly a few sexy bodyguards?”
Maksim chuckles at that.
I press my lips together, unsure whether to laugh or be genuinely worried. My sister has never shown an ounce of interest in a country with colder climates, let alone traveling halfway across the world and away from everything she’s ever known.
I don’t hate that idea. Far from it, actually.
But I’m worried if she does come with us, she’ll end up regretting it.
Moving to another country is a whole different beast than visiting it.
Not to mention she won’t just get to be some American tourist traveling on a student Visa.
She’ll be a guest of the Antonov Bratva and will have to be heavily guarded to keep safe.
She sits up again to look at me, scooting over to the edge of the bed. “Think about it. A fresh start, a whole new world. I could find my own Mafia boss and live in some ridiculously dramatic romance novel.”
I drop my hands, staring at her. “This isn’t a game.
I’m serious, Lettie. If you actually come to stay with us, you’ll be kept on a tight leash.
Maksim may not have a civil war going on, but he still has enemies that want what his Bratva has.
That means you’ll be kept tight to the fold.
There won’t be any late-night excursions sneaking out to go clubbing or whatever.
You’ll need a guard every time you leave the estate. ”
Her teasing smile fades. She leans forward, her gaze locking on mine. “I don’t care about any of that, Ivy. I want to go where you go. I don’t want to have to give up my sister again. Or my nephew. I kind of only got you back not too long ago, you know?”
My eyes soften. “Lettie…”
“We missed a lot of years together. I hate that. All that time we didn’t talk, didn’t visit each other… I refuse to let that happen again. And I’m not letting my nephew grow up without his auntie either.”
It hits me all at once how much this move is affecting more than just me and Leo. We’re not just detaching from some neighborhood with a few pieces of furniture packed into the back of a truck. We’re uprooting lives and disrupting comfort zones.
Though, as much as I love the idea of having my sister close, part of me wonders if I’d be doing her a disservice by letting her follow us into a world she knows so little about.
It’s not just snow and the struggle of acclimating to a whole new culture she’ll be dealing with.
It’s power plays and secret meetings and a family history soaked in blood.
It’s living under Maksim’s roof, which means living under the Antonov name, and that’s not a guest list you can just politely back out of once you’re tired of the party.
She stands then, shifting around the piles surrounding me to drop down to her knees. When she pulls me in for a hug, it’s tight and fierce. “Wherever you go, I want to go. Period. I don’t care what danger lies ahead. I’m not letting you walk out of my life again.”
Tears burn the backs of my eyes. I cling to her, my throat tight. “You’re sure?”
She pulls back, studying my face. “Absolutely.”
Relief loosens my chest. “Okay.”
Her eyes sparkle again, mischief returning. “Yes! Oh, I’m so pumped. Mom and Dad are going to freak out, but whatever. I can’t wait!”
She bounds out of my room quickly after that, leaving Maksim and me alone once again. I sag into him when he offers his arms to me, letting myself be pulled in and settled against his chest as his fingers glide through the ends of my hair.
“You okay with her coming?” I ask.
He chuckles. “Yes. I’m sure she will fit right in. Katya will be thrilled to have someone to verbally spar with who isn’t afraid to give it right back.”
“True.” If anyone is brave enough to stand up to someone like Katya, it’s my damn sister.
I let out a soft exhale. As scary as building a new future is, I’m looking forward to it.
I dream of this exact scene but in Russia—my parents exchanging wine recommendations with the kitchen staff, Lettie rolling her eyes at Maksim’s overprotectiveness as she comes home from a second date, Leo running through sprawling halls and his laughter echoing along the walls, Maksim standing at the center of it all, his hand at my back, his eyes soft when they land on me.
The picture blooms so vividly in my mind, it steals my breath away. I press a hand to my chest, feeling my heart beat hard against my palm.
For the first time, the thought of change doesn’t terrify me.
It fills me with hope.