Page 33

33

Alina

The sunlight in Viktor’s estate feels like a balm. It spills through the tall windows of the sitting room, bathing everything in a soft golden hue. It is the kind of light that embodies peace and safety.

I’m curled on the velvet chaise near the fireplace, tucked under a cashmere blanket, a warm mug of herbal tea cradled between my palms. The air smells faintly of lavender and honey.

For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not afraid.

Scarlett sits nearby on the floor, one twin on each side of her, as they babble and knock soft blocks against each other. Her laughter floats through the room—low and sweet—as she tries to referee their game. Watching her, I feel a pang of something fragile and beautiful. Hope, maybe.

The door opens, but I do not bother to crane my neck, thinking it’s either one of the staff or Lev checking on me again—he barely lets me out of his sight.

But then I hear her voice. “Is my sister hiding in here or pretending to be asleep?”

I sit up, my heart stuttering. “Yelena?”

She rounds the doorway a moment later, radiant despite her exhaustion, one hand resting on her still swollen belly and the other holding a small overnight bag. She appears as though she hasn’t slept in two days, but her eyes shine brightly.

“Yelena,” I whisper, already on my feet.

She smiles and opens her arms, and I rush into them before I even think to be gentle. We hug gently, belly to belly, tear to tear. There’s something in her touch that steadies me in ways nothing else can.

“You shouldn’t be traveling,” I murmur, pulling back to look her over. “How did you even convince your husband to let you come in your condition?”

Yelena’s eyes sparkle with mischief as she settles into the plush chair that Scarlett vacated earlier. “He can’t say no to me,” she says with an exaggerated sniff. “Especially not when I cry.”

I laugh through a sniffle of my own.

She shrugs, more serious this time. “But honestly? He didn’t want to let me out of his sight. So, he brought me himself. He and Viktor are in the study now, probably threatening every living soul on the Eastern Seaboard.”

Scarlett chuckles from the rug, lifting one of the twins onto her lap. “Your brother, Lev, and Zasha have been cooped up in there since morning. They can now have a field day now that Aithan has joined them.”

Yelena waves a hand. “Let them play mafia kings. We’ve got more important things to discuss.”

“Like?” I raise a brow, and she gives me the kind of grin that makes my heart both sink and soar. Her grin says she is up to no good.

“Like the fact that my innocent and charming sister finally got Lev Ivanov to crawl through hell for her.”

I open my mouth, but no words come out, only a smile. Because it’s true. Lev did burst into hell with blazing guns, demanding that the devil himself let me out.

We all laugh, and Yelena props her feet up on an ottoman with a sigh, rubbing her belly like it holds the secrets of the universe.

“God, my back,” she mutters. “If this baby kicks my ribs one more time, I swear I’m donating him to Scarlett’s twins as a punching bag.”

Scarlett snorts. “Sweetheart, you can’t donate babies. That’s frowned upon. Even in our world.”

I laugh, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world—this moment, with the two women who know me best, surrounded by the hum of family.

Yelena leans forward, eyes sparkling. “But enough about me. Let’s talk about you.”

I raise an eyebrow, sipping my tea. “What about me?”

Scarlett shifts one of the twins onto her lap, her smile turning sly. “You and a certain Lev Ivanov.”

My stomach flips. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Oh please,” Yelena interrupts, throwing a silk cushion at me. “He stormed a heavily guarded compound for you, Alina. The man was a walking death wish.”

“Burned down half the city just to get to you,” Scarlett adds, her tone exaggeratedly dreamy. “Awww.”

I roll my eyes, cheeks heating, but I can’t stop the small smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

“Okay, fine,” I murmur, my fingers circling the rim of my cup. “He came for me.”

“That’s the understatement of the year,” Yelena says, stretching with a groan. “Viktor said he’s never seen Lev like that. Controlled chaos. Brutal. Single-minded. Honestly, I’m a little impressed.”

“I always believed,” I say quietly, surprising even myself with how certain the words sound.

Scarlett tilts her head, eyes softening. “Believed what?”

“That he’d come back for me.” I glance down at my belly, resting my hand lightly there. “Even when he pushed me away. Even when he disappeared. I just… knew.”

Yelena stares at me for a moment, then exhales a breath of something between awe and affection. “You’re something else, you know that?”

I give her a look. “I’m hormonal and mildly traumatized.”

“Still,” Scarlett says, “it’s kind of poetic. After everything… you got your enforcer.”

I smile at that. Not the kind that flashes or dazzles. The kind that lives deep in the chest, anchored in something real.

“I didn’t want a hero,” I whisper. “I just wanted him.”

Scarlett lets out a soft “aww,” and even Yelena looks misty-eyed for a second before waving it away.

“Ugh. Emotions. Is this what being a mom does to you? I cried at a baby lotion commercial yesterday.”

We all laugh—and this time, it’s deep, full-bodied, healing.

For the first time since everything went dark, I feel like the light is finding its way back in.

The laughter fades into soft smiles, and a peaceful quiet settles between us—the kind that only comes when you’re surrounded by people who know your scars and still love you anyway.

Yelena shifts in her seat, rubbing slow circles over her belly. “He’s been kicking non-stop since we got off the plane. I think he’s protesting the turbulence.”

“Or maybe he just missed his cousins,” Scarlett says with a grin as the twins wobble away from the block pile, their tiny legs carrying them straight to Yelena.

She beams, arms outstretched as they tumble into her lap, squealing and clinging to her like she’s their long-lost favorite person.

“They’re huge,” Yelena gasps, tickling one of them gently while the other clutches at her necklace. “When did this happen?”

Scarlett watches them with a mix of awe and exhaustion. “Yesterday. And somehow also two years ago. Time’s a blur.”

“They missed you,” I say softly, watching the twins climb into Yelena’s lap like they belong there. “We all did.”

Yelena looks up at me, her voice warm. “We’re going to have a whole crew soon, you know. First cousins, growing up close… playing together, fighting over toys, stealing each other’s snacks.”

Scarlett chuckles. “Causing absolute chaos at every holiday.”

I smile, hand resting gently over my still-flat belly. “And they won’t just be cousins. They’ll be friends. They’ll always have each other.”

The thought makes something warm bloom in my chest. I didn’t grow up with that. None of us did. We were scattered, guarded, hidden. We learned too young how to survive—but these babies?

They’ll know love.

They’ll know safety.

“They’ll grow up knowing what it means to belong,” I whisper, blinking quickly as tears sting the backs of my eyes.

Scarlett reaches for my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “They’ll have everything we never did.”

Yelena nods, stroking the hair of one twin who’s already dozing against her belly. “And they’ll visit each other. Sleepovers. Summer trips. Matching little suits and dresses for the endless weddings we’ll have to attend.”

I giggle, already picturing it. “You think they’ll all be that close?”

“They will be,” Scarlett says firmly. “Because we’ll make sure of it.”

The three of us settle into a comfortable silence, one that conveys more than words ever could. There’s an unspoken yet unbreakable current running between us.

For the first time, we’re not just survivors of our past. We’re architects of the future.

The sun has shifted now, casting lazy golden streaks across the room, soft and warm. One of the twins has curled up at Yelena’s feet, completely asleep. The other is babbling nonsense into Scarlett’s hair as she rocks gently on the floor, humming something low and soothing.

I sit back, tea forgotten, my hand resting on the curve of my abdomen.

It’s peaceful.

But I can still feel the echo of steel walls. The memory of cold tile against my back. The sound of Mendes’s voice slithering into my ears like poison.

Yelena’s gaze sharpens. She knows me too well.

“Are you okay?” she asks, voice soft.

I don’t answer right away.

Because the truth is… I’m not sure.

“I think I’m still in pieces,” I say at last. “But I know now that I’m the kind of woman who can put herself back together.”

Scarlett looks up from her half-asleep toddler and smiles. “That’s strength.”

Yelena leans forward, elbows on her knees, belly between us like a living promise. “No, Alina. That’s power. You didn’t just survive. You endured. You fought. And you still have room left for love.”

My throat tightens.

“I was so scared,” I whisper. “I didn’t know if anyone would find me. I didn’t know if he’d kill me before they could.”

“But Lev did find you,” Scarlett says gently. “And now you’re here. With a baby. And a man who would crawl through hell for you.”

I blink away tears. “He hasn’t even said he wants me in his life.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Scarlett murmurs. “I’ve seen it in the way he looks at you and cares for you. Ever since the rescue, he acts as if you are the first thing he’s ever wanted and that he is terrified to lose.”

“And you won’t lose him,” Yelena adds. But if you need to hear those words to be reassured, then we will have to make him spill them.”

That makes the tears spill, but this time, not from pain. Instead, they fall from the overwhelming, terrifying beauty of being loved in this way: by blood, by choice, by fate.

“I don’t know what comes next,” I admit. “But I know I’m not broken anymore- not the way I thought I was.”

Yelena smiles through her own glassy eyes. “Good. Because this baby deserves to meet the real you. The strong, stubborn, incredible woman we all know.”

I exhale a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Then, I reach across to pull Yelena into a warm embrace, and Scarlett joins us. The three of us have indeed fought for the love we now share and are lucky to be alive to watch our children grow up together.