Epilogue
Tolya
Tolya’s Country Estate
The boardroom is filled with the usual suspects—the Bratva, the Italians, and the Albanians, all gathered under one roof in what has become a normalized show of unity.
Since Nico has taken over the house, there’s been no more bloodshed. No shouting. Just sharp eyes, sharper words, and cigars burning low in thick glass trays beside tumblers of whiskey on the longest of nights.
I sit at the head of the table, relaxed in black-on-black, one hand on a lowball glass of alcohol, the other resting just beside my phone on the table. Just in case.
Nico sits across from me, leaning back in his chair, smirking through most of the meeting with the cocky self-assurance of a man who now rules the second largest syndicate in Chicago.
It’s been six months since we had put an end to De Mello’s sex trade and rearranged the hierarchy. Six months since Eva had been kidnapped. I’ll never forget that night, being so scared to lose her, getting her back whole. Finding out she was pregnant with my child.
Peace had come at a cost, but it was worth it. Yaro was dead. The traitors were buried. Chicago’s underworld is no longer at war and under new management.
And for once, I don't feel the need to grind my teeth through every conversation. Right now I have other things to worry about. Like the woman currently stealing every ounce of my attention even when she isn’t in the room.
Before the meeting had begun, Nico had shot me a pointed look, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. “You’ve gone soft, Tolya. Ever since Eva started showing, you’ve been looking like a damn lovesick puppy. Why, you’ve even started smiling in meetings on occasion!”
I’d shot him a glare, but he knew the truth—since that night in the penthouse, when Eva had whispered for me to stay, nothing else had mattered. The ice around my heart had melted.
The door cracks open just as the Albanian delegate is running his mouth about some security tariff. And every head turns.
Eva entered, glowing. Literally glowing. Her dress hugs her gently swelling belly, and even in flats and a ponytail, she looked like a queen. The soft sheen on her skin caught the light, her cheeks flushed with pregnancy.
I stand the second I see her. A reflex. Every instinct pulls me to her side like gravity.
“Is everything alright?” I ask, urgency in my voice.
"I'm so sorry to interrupt," Eva says sweetly, placing a hand on her stomach as she looks around the room. "But I need to steal my husband. Immediately."
A flare of worry shoots down my spine until I catch the wicked little wink she gives me as she turns away from the table.
My brows lift as the other men chuckle. She hasn’t left the penthouse without me by her side in months. Not since Yaro. Not since she was nearly taken from me.
I cross the room to her in three strides, ignoring the amused looks of the men sitting around the table. Behind me, Nico laughs. "Jesus Christ, Tolya. She's got you wrapped around her little finger. Go on. We’ll finish up without you. Go take care of your queen."
I don't argue. Just grin, bend to kiss her temple, and take her hand to lead her from the room and toward the garage.
When the car door clicks shut behind us, the divider slides up the dark pane impenetrable to prying eyes. The interior of the town car was sleek, quiet, and private just how I like it.
I turn to her then, watching the playful curve of her lips. “What are we hunting down today, dorogaya? Pickles? Anchovies?”
“Doritos and vanilla ice cream,” Eva says, deadpan.
I blink, eyes narrowing with mock suspicion. “Together?”
She nods, trying to suppress her grin. “Together.”
I make a face. “That’s an act of war.”
“You’re dramatic,” she purrs, sliding closer. Her belly brushes against my side as she leans into me. “You love me and you know it, despite my weird pregnancy cravings.”
“I do,” I say without hesitation as I trail my hand slowly up her thigh, pushing up the hem of her dress. “And I’m going to serve my pregnant wife however she demands.”
“Tolya,” she says, mock scandalized. “Is this how you intend to behave in public?”
“You interrupted a meeting between three major crime syndicates to get me all to yourself,” I murmur against her neck. “You’re lucky if this is all I do.”
She gasps as my fingers slide between her thighs, her hips shifting slightly, legs falling open as I touch her.
“Careful,” she whispers, lips brushing my jaw. “You have to be careful.”
“I am,” I reassure her, kissing her shoulder, the pulse in her neck thudding wildly. “You and our child... you’re everything to me.”
She reaches a hand up to touch my face, cupping my cheek. “I know.”
I move my fingers with slow, careful precision, coaxing breathless moans from her lips as I caress her inner folds. My mouth never strays far from her skin. She melts into me, sighing my name, curling her fingers into the front of my shirt as the city rolls by beyond the tinted windows.
By the time she comes apart in my arms, whispering love and promises against my collar. I’m lost in awe of her all over again. What did I ever do to deserve such a woman?
With her tucked against my side, her dress smoothed down, her legs curled over my lap, I press a kiss to her temple. I stare out the window, the city ours to rule, my woman in my arms, my future growing inside her.
What started as a contract, a cold transaction in a cruel world, had become the one thing I’d never seen coming.
Love.
Before Eva, I sat upon a throne alone. Now, I am a king with his queen beside him. Together, we will rule everything in this city.
The End?