Page 130 of The Last Hope

“Tarik !” Elif suddenly exclaimed, rushing past me before throwing herself into the young man’s arms. He held her tightly, lifting her off the ground.

“Ya tak skuchal po tebe, moy malysh,( I missed you so much my baby) ” he murmured, his voice breaking as he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

And suddenly, the resemblance struck me again.

He had Elif’s cheekbones. The same eye shape. Even his hair was a slightly lighter shade than the Ivanov brothers’.

“Ya tozhe, Mama,(me too)” Tarik replied, pressing a kiss to his mother’s forehead. His mother.

Oh my God—Elif had a teenage son ?

They finally pulled apart, Elif’s smile stretching nearly ear to ear, while Tarik gazed at her with shining eyes… filled with love. The same way my sons looked at me. And just like that, warmth bloomed in my chest, as it always did when I thought of them.

Tarik’s eyes found mine again, and he approached carefully, stopping at a respectful distance before offering his hand.

“Tarik Ivanov. I’m the eldest son of Grigori and Elif. Nice to meet you, Selina—future Ivanov,” I couldn’t help but smile as I gently took his hand.

Despite his youth—seventeen at most—his hands were already calloused, yet warm, his grip firm but gentle.

“Nice to meet you too. I didn’t know you had another son besides Dimitri and Ivan,” I said, glancing at Elif, who grimaced.

Tarik slid his hands into his pockets and stood beside me. “Well, Mother, I expected that from Father, but you ?” He shook his head, clicking his tongue, and a new smile tugged at my lips as Elif shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry,moy malysh(my baby). With everything that’s been happening lately, we haven’t really had time to sit down and talk,” she sighed, giving me an apologetic look. My smile faded slightly as memories of the previous night resurfaced.

“I took the first flight when I heard what happened,” Tarik said, returning to his mother and pulling her into his arms again. “Father said everyone was okay, but I wanted to be here—for the family.”

Elif smiled softly, caressing his cheek. More excited voices suddenly echoed through the hallway.

“Moy brat !” Ivan yelled as he sprinted toward his brother, closely followed by Dimitri, who immediately started crying.

Tarik lifted both of them at once, kissing each in turn. Hearing the commotion, my sons appeared and rushed into the hall.

While Andrei and Alexei ran straight to Tarik, Rafael clung to my leg, as he always did when meeting someone new.

Mikhail, however, stopped beside me, arms crossed behind his back, his gaze locked on his cousin. I smiled softly, recognizing the admiration in his eyes. He was impressed. He looked up to Tarik.

They probably weren’t that far apart in age.

“Moy brat! How are you ?” Tarik asked, extending an arm toward Mikhail. My son took it in a firm grip, pulling him into a hug like their fathers did. My smile widened.

“And you must be my new little brother—Rafael ?” Tarik knelt in front of my son. After a moment, Rafael stepped out from behind my leg and nodded, shyly extending his hand.

Tarik grinned, taking his tiny hand before lifting him into his arms, “come on, let’s check out my car. I brought you all some stuff from Detroit,” he said, heading outside where his driver was unloading his luggage.

“I’m really sorry, Selina. I should’ve told you,” Elif said, offering a regretful smile.

I shook my head and took her hand. “No, you’re right. With everything going on, you haven’t had time…”

“No,” she interrupted, squeezing my hand. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and suddenly, she looked… fragile.

“Elif…?”

“Tarik was my brother’s name. He sacrificed himself to help us win the war against the Italians sixteen years ago,” she said, her voice distant.

And just like that, Grigori’s words from the day we arrived made perfect sense.

We’re about to enter another war with the Italians after everything we’ve been through, Elif…