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“It’s not fair ! Everyone knows except me !” I pouted, crossing my arms, unable to see a thing with the blindfold tied over my eyes.

“No, Mama, we don’t know either!” the boys laughed from the back seat, making me smile despite myself.

The car jolted suddenly, and my husband’s hand instinctively found its place on my growing belly. I was nearly six months pregnant now, and soon, we would discover the baby’s gender. I couldn’t wait—we all couldn’t wait.

Since the meeting with the Italians almost two months earlier, we had remained on guard. They had accepted that Antonio’s death was justified, and I had been granted custody of my son. But when it came to Emilio’s death, they had said nothing. Sienna had returned home without consequence, yet the uncertainty lingered. I feared for my sister—but fear would never keep me from moving forward again. Never.

I placed my hand over Nikolai’s, squeezing it gently, letting the love I felt for him continue to anchor me, to warm me.

“Dad ! Uncle Roman’s car is gone !” Andrei suddenly shouted.

“He probably took a shortcut, son. Don’t worry,” my husband reassured him as he turned down a quieter road. A few minutes later, we slowed until the car finally stopped.

The boys leapt out, shouting in excitement, while I unbuckled my seatbelt, feeling around for the door handle. But before I could find it, the door opened, and Nikolai’s warmth enveloped me. We walked for several minutes to the sound of joyful cries from our boys and Elif’s, the laughter of my sister and Elif, and the usual bickering between Roman, Sasha, and Grigori.

“We’re here,” my husband murmured against my ear, sending that familiar shiver down my spine—just as he always did when he was near.

“And where exactly is ‘here’?” I asked, leaning into him.

“I hope you’ll like it,Solnyshko,” he whispered, untying the blindfold.

I blinked several times, adjusting to the light, and then my breath caught at the sight before me.

“Strawberries,” I whispered, staring at the endless rows of strawberry fields. “Strawberries,” I repeated, feeling as if the baby inside me was just as excited by the sight of my favorite fruit. Or rather, our favorite fruit, considering how intense my cravings had been lately.

“Strawberry fields for my wife and my daughter, who can’t get enough of them,” he said, pressing a kiss to my neck.

“It could be a boy,” I replied absentmindedly, still taking in the view.

“Then he’ll help me and his brothers finish building our chalet,” he added.

I frowned. “Chalet ? What are you—”

He gently turned me, and there it was—a beautiful chalet under construction, nestled slightly higher up the hill.

“We’ve been working on it for over a month now !” Roman shouted, already running toward the building with Ivan laughing on his back.

“Nikolai,” I whispered, tears welling in my eyes.

“You once told me about the little house in the countryside where you grew up with your sister and parents. I thought you might like this,” he said softly.

I turned in his arms, wrapping mine tightly around his waist and burying my face in his chest.

“Don’t cry,moy lyubov’. Everything I do—everything I will ever do—is for you, our sons, and our daughter. I will never let you shed another tear of sorrow,” he murmured, kissing my hair.

Which, of course, only made me cry harder—damn hormones !

“Even if I were to cry from sadness one day, I know it would never be because of you,amore mio,” I whispered, cupping his face in my hands.

“You are my pillar, Nikolai. You are my savior, the love of my life, my last hope,” I said, before kissing him.

And he kissed me back with such passion that words became unnecessary.

He loves me.

We love each other.

And we would never let anything—or anyone—extinguish our hope.