Page 111 of Bride of Vengeance

"It could happen."

"It absolutely could not. You'd terrify the other parents."

"I can be nice and social, you just saw me do it."

"You really can't."

"I'll learn."

"Mikhail." She sits up, serious now. "We don't have to be normal. We just have to be us. Whatever that looks like."

"What if 'us' isn't good enough? What if we're too damaged, too—"

She kisses me, shutting me up. "We're exactly enough. We survived everything the world threw at us. And we will teach that to our children. We can handle twins."

"You sound very confident."

"I am. Because we're together."

"Together," I agree, pulling her back down against me.

Outside, New York continues its relentless pace. But in this room, at this moment, time stops. My wife in my arms, our children growing inside her, our enemies defeated, our future possible.

It's more than I ever thought I'd have. More than Ghost ever deserved.

But maybe Mikhail Kozlov—husband, father, protector—could still deserve this.

Maybe we both do.

"I love you," I tell her.

"I love you too. All of you. Even the parts that scare other people."

And as she falls asleep against me, three heartbeats steady on the monitors, I allow myself to believe in tomorrow. In next week. In years from now when two children call me Papa and Mariana still looks at me just like now.

Ghost is dead.

Long live whatever comes next.

Chapter twenty-four

New Beginnings

Mariana

Three and a half months later, I'm trying to squeeze behind the wheel of our very practical, very safe, absolutely-not-a-minivan SUV when I realize I can't reach the pedals anymore.

"Problem?" Mikhail asks from the passenger seat, not quite hiding his smirk.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

"You're thinking it."

"I'm thinking you look beautiful."

"I look like I swallowed two watermelons." I adjust the seat for the third time this week. At four months, I'm already showing like I'm six months along. Twins are no joke.