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"Good. He should be bigger than his old man. Stronger too, hopefully. Smarter, definitely."

"Will you teach him about the business?"

"When he's old enough to understand what it really means, yes. But I hope by then there will be less of it to teach. I'm working on making things more legitimate, more legal. I want him to inherit an empire, not a war."

"And if he doesn't want any of it? If he wants to be a doctor or a teacher or an artist?"

"Then he'll be the best doctor or teacher or artist the world has ever seen, and his trust fund will make sure he never has to compromise his dreams for money."

The fierce protectiveness in his voice makes my throat tight. This is what I never had—a parent who would move heaven and earth to give me choices, who would build me a life where I could choose love over survival, dreams over desperation.

"I love you," I tell him, and the words come easier now, less like an admission of defeat and more like a celebration of victory.

"I love you too." He pulls me closer, and I go willingly, melting into the warmth and strength of him. "More than I ever thought I could love anything. More than I knew I was capable of."

"Even though I fought you every step of the way?"

"Especially because of that." His laugh is warm against my hair. "You think I wanted a woman who would just roll over and accept whatever I decided? I fell in love with your fire, Anya. Your courage. The way you refused to break even when breaking would have been easier."

"I almost left," I confess. "That night after Nikolai was taken, when you brought me back and I saw what I'd done—I almostran. I was going to take him and disappear, find somewhere you'd never find us."

"I know." His arms tighten around me. "I was waiting for it. Watching for it. It would have killed me, but I wouldn't have stopped you. Not if it was what you really wanted."

"But I didn't want it. That's what scared me the most. I wanted to stay, even after everything. Even knowing what you're capable of, what this world is capable of. I wanted to stay and build something with you."

"And now?"

I pull back to look at him, this man who has remade himself as thoroughly as he's remade my world. "Now I want my wedding. I want white roses and a cake that doesn't taste like cardboard and a dance with my husband to a song I actually know the words to."

"Then you'll have it." He kisses me softly, a promise sealed with warmth and breath and the taste of morning coffee. "All of it. Everything you want and everything you don't even know you want yet."

"What if I want something impossible?"

"Then I'll make it possible."

"What if I want something that doesn't exist?"

"Then I'll create it."

"What if I want the stars?"

"Then I'll learn to fly."

I laugh, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside me, somewhere that has been quiet for too long. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm in love." He grins, and the expression transforms his entire face. "It makes men do ridiculous things."

"Good," I say, rising up on my toes to kiss him again. "I like you ridiculous."

And as Nikolai's laughter echoes through the courtyard and the morning sun warms our faces, I realize that this is what happiness feels like. Not the desperate, clinging kind that comes from finally getting what you've always wanted, but the deep, abiding kind that comes from choosing to build something beautiful with someone you love, even when the foundation is cracked and the walls are scarred.

The cage is open. It has been open all along.

And I'm choosing to stay.