Epilogue
One year later
Ruslan
The sound that drags me out of sleep isn’t urgent, but it’s persistent. I surface from foggy dreams that feel just as real as my waking life these days. I’m exhausted in back rooms, in alleys, and even in the office suites of Lord the smile disappearing. I understand at once, and the truth of her statement stings.
As far as her parents are concerned, Emma met and ended up with a fashion millionaire.
She “got lucky.” They have no idea what an important part she plays in my business or in this family.
And they never will, because the last thing I can tolerate is a New York lawyer who knows about the Bratva getting too close.
Emma warned me. Not long after we came back to California, she told me that somehow Matilda knew about me. About the Pakhans spread across the country.
Roman finishes eating with a sleepy sigh, his eyelids already drooping. Emma carefully lifts him onto her shoulder.
“They’ll probably be excited about Roman.”
“They will.”
“And maybe they’ll finally...” Her voice trails away.
I stand and kneel beside her chair. Taking Roman carefully into my arms, I settle him against my shoulder before reaching my free arm around Emma’s waist.
She leans into me immediately.
“L’vyonak.” She smiles faintly. “You are anything but invisible.”
My voice is quiet.
“If they cannot see the extraordinary woman standing in front of them, then they’re choosing blindness.”
She laughs through suspiciously bright eyes. She cries more freely these days—not just out of frustration or sadness, but laughter, happiness, joy at our son’s antics.
“I’ll make them see.”
“You can’t force people, Rus.”
“I own an empire.”
She laughs harder, rolling her eyes.
“I’m serious. If necessary, I will deploy every resource at my disposal.”
“Against my parents?”
“Respectfully.”
She shakes her head. “You are unbelievable.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Roman lets out a tiny, sleepy sigh between us, completely unaware that he’s become the center of both our worlds. Emma strokes one finger across his impossibly soft cheek.
“I still can’t believe he’s ours.”
“Neither can I.”
I look down at my son.
Then at the woman I love.
For years I chased revenge because I believed it would make me whole. I was wrong.
Home was never a place.
It was always going to be this. And I never could’ve imagined it.
After a long silence, I ask the question that has lingered in the back of my mind since the day we met.
“Do you love me even though I’m a criminal?”
Emma doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she reaches up and brushes a strand of hair away from my forehead. Then she smiles.
“Do you love me even though I used to be FBI?”
I laugh softly, leaning in and pressing my lips against her wrist.
“Very much.”
“So do I.”
Roman yawns, already drifting back to sleep, and I tighten my arm around Emma while holding our son securely against my chest. Outside, dawn is just beginning to crest.
For the first time in my life, I find that I don’t mind waiting for tomorrow.
* * *