Page 37

37

Alina

With each step I take, the world gently fades away, as I'm lovingly guided by Lev’s strong and steady hand, a soft silk blindfold resting over my eyes.

"Are we close?" I whisper, laughing nervously, eager to peek.

He squeezes my fingers. "Almost there, kotyonok. Just trust me a little longer."

Absolutely! I trust him more than anyone else. Even so, I can't help but feel my stomach flutter with nervous excitement. The cool breeze gently wraps around my shoulders, bringing with it the delightful scents of pine, lake water, and a hint of something sweet that I can’t quite name—perhaps it's the essence of freedom. The freedom to finally love him without hiding behind a mask.

He finally stops, and I feel his fingers brush against the knot at the back of my head. "Are you ready?"

“Yes.”

The blindfold slips away, and I forget how to breathe because this place is unreal.

The cabin is tucked between tall evergreens and set just above the edge of a glittering lake. It looks like something plucked from a luxury travel magazine and kissed by a fairytale. The structure itself is glass and cedar, all clean lines and earthy tones, with a private dock stretching into the mirror-still water.

The sky overhead is endless—cloudless and pale blue, with soft sun glinting off the lake. Everything smells clean, quiet, and untouched.

I spin slowly in place, lips parted, eyes wide. “It’s beautiful…” I breathe. “ I’m in love with this place.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I don’t just like it,” I say, turning to face him fully. “I love it.”

And then the awe is chased by something more human. I bite my lip. My brows pull together as I glance between him and the luxury surrounding us.

“Lev… how can you afford to bring us to a place like this?” I ask softly. “I don’t want you to go broke trying to impress me. I’m not that girl. I’d sleep in a tent with you and be happy.”

He just stares at me for a second, then laughs—a deep, rich sound that dances through the trees.

“Do you think I’m poor, kotyonok ?”

I blink. “I didn’t mean it like that—I”

Lev steps in close, and his grin fades into something more dangerous. More intoxicating. His fingers trail lightly down my arm.

“Alina,” he murmurs, “there are millions sitting quietly in offshore accounts with my name on them. Vaults of cash in cities you’ve never even seen. I own properties under shell names in places you wouldn’t think to look.”

I stare at him, speechless.

His voice is low, nearly a growl. “I’ve made more money in the Bratva than some nations have in their entire GDP. I don’t flash it. I don’t need to. But trust me—this?” He gestures toward the luxurious cabin, the private dock, the glittering lake. “This is nothing.”

I swallow hard, heat flooding my chest.

“I didn’t build wealth to flaunt it,” he says, stepping closer and brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “I built it for protection. Now, I'm glad I have someone to spend it on.”

His hand slides to rest over my belly.

“You’re mine now. Both of you. And I will guard you with everything I have. Money included.”

A breath catches in my throat. At this moment, I believe him- not just about the money, but about everything. His voice holds no arrogance—only quiet certainty. This isn’t about impressing me; it’s about claiming me, securing a future that no enemy, man, or force in this world could tear apart.

I lean into his chest, overwhelmed in the best way.

“I love you,” I whisper.

He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “And I love you, moya lyubov .”

We stand there for a long moment in the golden afternoon, the lake shimmering behind us, the trees swaying above, the cabin glowing like something conjured from a dream.

And deep down… I know I’ll remember this moment for the rest of my life.

The cabin feels like something out of a dream. The kind you don’t want to wake up from.

Lev gives me the tour slowly, letting me soak in every detail. The glass walls catch the soft afternoon light like crystal. The furniture is minimal but luxurious—rich leather, raw wood, thick-knit blankets. It smells like cedar and clean linen and safety.

The kind of safety that only exists in Lev’s presence.

We pass a stone fireplace and a dining table already set with wine glasses, even though it’s only mid-afternoon. In the kitchen, there’s a platter of cheeses, berries, and dark chocolate—my favorite kind.

I glance at him. “You stocked the place?”

He shrugs, lips twitching. “I don’t like surprises. Unless I’m giving them.” He winks. “And oh, don’t worry. The wine is non-alcoholic and safe for you to drink.”

God, the things he says. I wonder if he even knows the effect he has when he gets like this—loving, thoughtful, watchful, and just a little smug.

We spend the afternoon lazily. He cooks lunch—barefoot and shirtless, the scar on his shoulder stark against his skin like a badge of who he’s had to become. The tattoos on his skin ripple as he works. I sit at the kitchen island, watching him flip a pan of vegetables like he’s done it a thousand times, like he's not one of the most dangerous men alive.

“You’re full of surprises, Ivanov,” I say, popping a strawberry into my mouth.

“You’ve seen nothing yet,” he replies without looking up.

His tone is casual, but there’s steel under it. Always. Even in moments like this.

Later, we dine outside on the deck overlooking the lake. I curl up on the cushioned bench beside him, and for a while, we don’t talk. We simply exist. I hear the wind rustling through the trees and the gentle slap of water against the dock. I realize this is the first time in months I’ve truly allowed myself to relax.

After lunch, we nap in the oversized hammock under the trees. I rest against his chest, lulled by the steady sound of his heartbeat, and drift somewhere between sleep and peace.

When I wake, the sun is beginning to slip down the sky.

We’re back on the deck now, wrapped in one of the heavy blankets he pulled from a linen closet. I sit between his legs, leaning into him, his arms banded around me like armor.

The lake shimmers in gold, and the sky blushes with violet. It’s a beauty that feels almost fragile.

He kisses the crown of my head.

“I’ve never had this before,” he murmurs.

“This?”

“This… quiet. This kind of stillness.” His voice lowers. “You.”

I turn slightly to look at him. “Do you like it?”

“I love it no matter where you are. It's not just here, watching the sunset with you. I could be on a battlefield and feel peace at the mere thought of you.” He slides his hand to rest protectively over my belly. “You moya lyubimaya devushka are my peace.”

I exhale slowly, emotion tightening my throat. Lev was born for war; he doesn’t flinch at blood and sleeps with weapons closer than pillows. But when he touches me like this, when he says things like that, he transforms into something more than a soldier. He becomes mine.

“Do you always think of battles?”

“No, but I am always prepared for them.”

“And now?” I whisper.

He leans in close, voice quiet in my ear. “You calm the monster in me, Alina. That doesn’t mean he’s gone. But when I’m with you, he’s quiet.”

I turn to kiss his cheek, fingers threading with his. “I don’t need him gone,” I whisper. “I just need him to know I’m not afraid of him.”

Lev freezes.

Then he shifts, gently but deliberately, until I’m facing him completely.

His gaze burns into me—intense, unreadable.

“You should be.”

“I’m not.”

A beat of silence. Then his mouth crashes into mine—hungry, reverent, a kiss that tastes like the edge of something inevitable.

When he finally pulls away, his thumb drags across my lower lip.

“No one’s ever said that to me,” he murmurs. “No one’s ever wanted both sides of me.”

“I do,” I say, kissing him again. Because with Lev, love is never just flowers and poetry. It’s fire and metal. It’s a promise etched in blood and silence. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.

As the last rays of sunlight softly dip behind the trees, they brush the lake with beautiful shades of deep velvet blue and shimmering silver. Just as I think we might be heading back inside, Lev gently takes my hand and leads me, without a word, toward the dock.

The wooden planks creak beneath our feet, but the world is otherwise hushed. Soft lights strung between poles flicker overhead—tiny golden halos in the dusk. Along the edges of the dock, small glass lanterns float gently on the water, casting broken light onto the waves.

My breath catches in my throat because, at the far end of the dock, a small table awaits us. Two elegant dessert plates rest beneath silver cloches, a glass pitcher of sparkling water stands nearby, and two flutes sit alongside. From somewhere—perhaps hidden speakers nestled in the railing—a faint melody plays. Something soft. Something orchestral. Something that makes my heart ache without knowing why.

Lev doesn’t speak; he just walks me to the center, then stops. I turn to him. I turn to him and find him on one knee.

“I’ve killed,” he says softly. “I’ve bled.”

My chest tightens.

“But this,” he continues, “this is the scariest thing I’ve ever done.”

I blink fast. “Lev…”

He shakes his head, signaling he wants me to let him speak. “I don’t want to merely protect you anymore, Alina. I don’t want to love you only in silence or guilt.”

He reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out a small black velvet box. My heart thunders.

“I want to build with you. I want to be your family.”

He opens the box.

And I lose track of how to breathe. Breathe in, and then out. I tell my brain.

The ring is stunning. A pear-cut diamond—bold, brilliant, and breathtaking- nestles between two vivid sapphires that shimmer like the very lake below us. It’s framed in delicate platinum vines and intricate etchings that speak of old-world wealth and dangerous devotion.

My hand flies to my mouth.

“Lev…” I gasp. “This is insane. This is… extravagant.”

He shrugs, his smile half-wicked, half-serious. “And still not enough for you.”

Emotion slams into me, and suddenly I’m blinking back tears.

His voice drops, low and raw. “Say yes kotyonok. Say you will be my bride. ”

I don’t hesitate.

“Yes,” I whisper, then louder. “Yes, Lev. Always, yes.”

He slips the ring onto my finger with the precision of a man who’s claimed his world piece by piece—and knows this is his most sacred prize yet.

The fit is perfect. Of course, it is. Before I can say another word, he pulls me into his arms. His kiss crashes into me like a tide, like a promise, like a life carved out from fire and blood and made whole again.

When he pulls back, I look at my ring. “It is beautiful.”

“This ring,” he murmurs, “means nothing to me without you in it.”

“I’m already yours,” I say. “This just makes it official.”

And with the lake beneath us, the stars above, and the fire of his love burning like a brand into my soul—I know…

This is the beginning of everything.