EPILOGUE
Marla
Snow falls softly across the estate in the middle of the night, coating everything in pristine white silence. I wake to the first contraction at three in the morning, my hand instinctively moving to my swollen belly as the tightening sensation spreads across my abdomen and lower back.
For a moment, I lie still in the darkness, listening to the steady breathing of the three men sleeping around me. The second contraction hits harder than the first, and I can't stop the small gasp that escapes my lips.
All three men are awake instantly.
"Marla?" Russ's voice is rough with sleep and immediate concern. "What's wrong?"
"I think..." Another contraction steals my breath. "I think it's time."
The room explodes into chaos. Russ is practically out of bed before I finish speaking, pulling on jeans and barking orders at someone through his phone.
Nick moves with surprising control, although his expression gives away some of his panic.
He's already dressed and checking his watch to time the contractions.
Alex disappears into the hallway, his voice calm and steady as he contacts the family physicians.
"How far apart?" Nick asks, his green eyes focused entirely on me.
"I don't know. Maybe ten minutes?"
"We're not going to the hospital," Russ says firmly, returning to my side. "The doctors are coming here."
I want to argue, but another contraction hits and I can't form words. Russ's hand finds mine, his grip warm and steady despite the panic I can see in his light eyes.
"Okay, so maybe less than ten minutes apart," I gasp.
Within an hour, three doctors arrive at the mansion with medical equipment and calm professionalism.
They transform our bedroom into a makeshift delivery room like they've done this a hundred times.
God, I hope so. Sharon appears in the doorway wearing pajamas and an anxious and excited expression, followed closely by Ekaterina, who looks far too awake and alert for four in the morning.
"How is she?" Ekaterina demands, pushing past one of the doctors to reach my bedside.
"She's fine," the lead physician says patiently. "Labor is progressing normally."
"Normally?" Ekaterina's dark eyes narrow. "What does that mean? How long will this take? Is the baby in distress?"
"Ma," Russ says, his voice strained. "Let them work."
"Don't tell me what to do. This is my grandchild."
Sharon hovers near the foot of the bed, wringing her hands nervously. When our eyes meet, she gives me an encouraging smile and moves closer to press a cool cloth against my forehead.
"You're doing great," she whispers.
I'm not doing great. I'm exhausted and terrified and the contractions are getting stronger with each one. The doctors monitor everything, and I said I didn't want to have medication to give birth, but I'm about ready to change my mind. This shit hurts!
Russ refuses to leave my side. He holds my hand through every contraction, his jaw tight and his eyes suspiciously bright. At one point, I squeeze his hand so hard during a particularly brutal contraction that he actually winces.
"Jesus Christ, Marla," he mutters.
"I will break your fingers if you don't calm down," I gasp. Why the hell did I say that? I'm the one who practically broke his fingers.
"I'm calm."
"You're pacing like a lunatic wolf," Ekaterina snaps at him from across the room. "Sit down before I throw you out."
Russ sits, but his leg bounces anxiously and his hand never leaves mine.
Nick stays close but quieter, his presence grounding me whenever the exhaustion threatens to overwhelm everything else. He doesn't say much, but every time I look at him, his green eyes are focused entirely on me with love and encouragement.
Alex remains outwardly calm, standing near the window and watching the snow fall outside. But I notice the way his hands tremble slightly when the doctors announce the baby is almost here.
The surreality of the situation hits me between contractions. Less than a year ago, I was dragging strangers home from a club for romance research. I was alone in a cottage in the woods, terrified of commitment and convinced I'd never have a real family.
Now I'm surrounded by so many people they barely fit in the room.
Three dangerous men who somehow became my husbands.
A best friend who refuses to leave my side.
A mother-in-law who threatens doctors and scolds grown men like children.
An entire estate full of people preparing to welcome our child into the world.
"Push," the doctor says firmly.
I push, and the pain is blinding.
"Again," the doctor instructs.
Russ's hand tightens around mine. Nick's voice is low and steady in my ear, telling me I can do this. Alex moves closer, his dark eyes locked on mine, willing strength into me.
"One more," the doctor says. "Come on, Marla. One more push."
I push with everything I have left, and suddenly the room fills with the sound of a baby crying. The sound is so loud it echoes through the entire suite, angry and healthy and perfect.
"It's a girl," the doctor announces, lifting the tiny, screaming bundle.
The world seems to stop. Russ goes completely silent beside me, his eyes filling with tears he tries desperately to hold back. They slip free anyway, tracking down his face as he stares at our daughter with an expression of pure wonder.
Nick becomes frighteningly careful, his movements slow and controlled as one of the doctors places the baby in his arms. He holds her against his chest like she might shatter, his jaw tight and his eyes suspiciously bright.
Alex's expression becomes completely unguarded. I've never seen him look this way before. The cold calculation and controlled violence are gone, replaced by something raw and vulnerable that makes my throat tighten.
"She's perfect," Sharon whispers, tears streaming down her face.
Ekaterina moves closer, her own eyes wet as she studies her granddaughter. "She looks like all of you," she says quietly.
She's right. Somehow, impossibly, our daughter resembles all three men simultaneously.
Her hair is dark like Russ's, thick and slightly wavy even though she's only minutes old.
The serious little expression on her tiny face already feels strangely Nick-like, as if she's already assessing the world around her.
And something about the shape of her eyes reminds me of Alex, dark and watchful even as she blinks up at us.
She looks like she belongs to all of them.
Nick carefully places her in my arms, and the weight of her settles against my chest like the most precious thing in the world. She's so small, so fragile, and yet she's already changed everything. All of us.
I look down at my daughter and feel something shift deep inside my chest. This tiny person didn't ask to be born into a world of Russian mafia politics and dangerous men.
She didn't ask for three fathers or a mother who spent most of her life convinced she'd never deserve love.
But she's here anyway, screaming and perfect and ours.
We've been so focused on surviving the pregnancy and the threats and the chaos that we never discussed what to call her.
How does that even happen? I start to panic, but then our daughter stops crying for a moment, her dark eyes blinking up at me.
I know she can't actually see me yet, but it feels like our gazes meet: mother and daughter, meeting in person for the first time.
Hours pass in a blur of exhaustion and wonder. The doctors finish their work and leave with quiet congratulations. Sharon and Ekaterina eventually retreat to let us rest, though Ekaterina threatens to return first thing in the morning to check on her granddaughter.
I lie in the massive bed with my baby girl sleeping peacefully in my arms. Russ curls against my left side, one hand resting protectively over both of us. His eyes are closed but I can tell he's not really sleeping, just resting lightly while staying alert.
Nick and Alex sit in chairs near the bed, watching us quietly. Neither of them looks tired despite the long night. They just watch, their expressions soft and unguarded.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, snow continues to fall across the estate. The sun is starting to rise, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. Somewhere below us, the rest of the estate is slowly waking. I can hear distant voices and the sound of vehicles moving through the gates.
But up here, in this room, everything is quiet and peaceful.
I look down at my sleeping angel, resting so peacefully against my chest, then at the three men surrounding us. A year ago, I was alone.Now I have everything I never believed I deserved.
Safety. Love. Family. A future.
Three dangerous men who would burn the world down to protect me. A daughter who somehow belongs to all of us. A home that feels permanent instead of temporary.
For the first time in my entire life, I'm not waiting for everything to fall apart. I'm not bracing for abandonment or rejection. I'm not convinced this happiness is temporary. I'm just here, in this moment, surrounded by the people I love most in the world.
The baby shifts slightly in my arms, making a small sound before settling back into sleep.
Russ's hand tightens protectively over both of us.
Nick moves closer, his green eyes soft as he watches our daughter breathe.
Alex stands and crosses to the window, looking out at the snow-covered estate with an expression of quiet contentment.
This is my family. Unconventional and chaotic and absolutely perfect.
I close my eyes and let myself sink into the warmth surrounding me. The exhaustion from labor pulls at me, but I fight it for just a moment longer, wanting to memorize this feeling.
"Sleep," Russ murmurs against my hair. "We've got you.”
I believe him.
For the first time in my life, I believe it completely. I fall asleep with a smile on my face, wrapped in the arms of my husbands, holding our daughter against my heart.
This is my happily ever after.
And it's more than I ever dreamed possible.