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The house pulsed with life, laughter, the aroma of vanilla frosting, and the scent of roses.

Every surface in the house gleamed with love. Balloons in soft baby blue and gold floated near the high ceiling, curling ribbons cascading like falling stars.

It was strung with tiny pictures of his first smile, his first steps, the first time he fell asleep on Damien’s chest, and a special one with me and him under the maple tree beside our bedroom.

I stood near the window for a moment, watching the way the sunlight caught the glittering decorations.

Leo sat in his high chair in the center of the chaos, a tiny gold crown slipping sideways on his fuzzy head.

His cheeks were smeared with cake, and he clapped his hands with the unfiltered joy only babies seemed to know. God , he was beautiful.

I turned to see Damien across the room, one arm lazily slung over Nana’s shoulder as she regaled someone with a story I already knew by heart.

Something about how Leo had his eyes, but my stubborn pout.

Her voice was warm, proud. She adored him.

And it was the most relaxed I’d seen my husband since we started Leo’s birthday plans.

We’d wanted to organize it ourselves instead of farming it out to an event planner. That way, it would be something even more special to remember.

Jasper hovered near the table, trying—and failing—to sneak another piece of the triple-layer chocolate cake without anyone noticing. I caught his eye and raised an eyebrow. He winked.

Typical .

I moved through the crowd, joining my mother to offer drinks, before moving on to hugging well-wishers and brushing crumbs from Leo’s curls.

I felt light, as if my soul had expanded, just from watching my family breathe in joy today. This was home. This was what Damien and I were successfully building against all odds.

This was our story: a forbidden man, who I had learned ruled in the shadows, and the girl who should’ve never been his. But here we were, parents now. Husband and wife. Happy and whole.

Even the air was full of warmth and memory.

A string quartet played softly near the fireplace, and Leo’s laughter carried above the buzz of chatter.

Damien caught my gaze and crossed the room in three long strides. His hand slipped into mine, fingers intertwining with a familiarity that still managed to thrill me.

“You’re glowing,” he murmured into my ear, his lips brushing my temple.

“That’s sweat,” I whispered back. “And frosting.”

He chuckled, and for a second, I leaned into his firm chest, letting the moment hold me.

The sun dipped low, and one by one, the crowd began to thin.

A few of the men lingered on the back patio, sipping wine under twinkling lights strung through the olive trees.

Leo had long since passed out in Nana’s arms, and she rocked him gently in the corner, humming one of Mama’s Spanish lullabies.

And just as I exhaled, just as the peace began to settle over the house like a soft blanket, a knock rattled us. It was late for visitors. Most of our guests had already said their goodbyes.

Damien and I turned toward the door at the same time. He reached it first, muscles tense, instincts on alert. He never quite let his guard down, even on days like this.

I stepped up beside him while he pulled the door open.

My jaw dropped, and I forgot how to breathe. “Katya?”

***

Since we had my entire family and Winter watching over Leo, Damien led us to his study to discuss, with Katya and Fedor trailing behind us.

Silence covered the entire room once the doors creaked shut, and we sat down. Technically, I perched at the side of Damien’s leather chair while Katya sat across from her father, because I was too nervous to sit close to her.

I couldn’t stop staring at Katya.

She looked older than the last time we saw her, but healthier, with rosy cheeks and light makeup. She had also cut her hair to a bob length and dressed in baggy clothes.

That same stubborn expression I’d come to know so well remained on her face, but her countenance was sadder. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said softly, hands clasped in front of her, fidgeting on her knees. Her voice had a tremble I didn’t expect, and it pierced right through me. “For a long time, about everything. About what happened between you and my, um… papa .”

I felt Damien shift beside me, but I didn’t dare move. I thought it would shatter the moment.

“I was angry. I couldn’t understand how any of it happened. It hurt like a bitch to imagine the two of you sleeping together behind my back. I mean, you were like a sister to me, Lena—”

Past tense. That meant we were on the road to reconciliation, but there was no promise of us going back to the way things were before now. The harsh reality was that we couldn’t, even if we tried.

“And Papa, well, he did piss me off a lot.” She chuckled dryly. “He’d hurt me before. and it felt like he was ripping the Band-Aid off again, reopening all wounds. I couldn’t bear it. So, I left.

“Somehow, in isolation, I felt like I didn’t matter anymore to either one of you. That you took my place…. That he was my dad. And you just—” Her voice broke, and I saw her jaw tighten as she fought it. “But I realized I never even tried to hear you out. I didn’t listen.”

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. She didn’t have to say another word, and I’d already forgiven her. Heaven knew, I had forgiven her a hundred times over in silence.

“Months later, I found out what really happened. From the night at Gipsy—not knowing who he was, to why you agreed to get married to him,” she said it with a smirk.

“He really is insufferable, isn’t he? Presenting a marriage to you like a business proposal.

Typical. You wanted Superman, and life threw a Russian crime lord at you.

Out of all of them, Damien Yezhov. The most complicated. ”

“Hey, you’re running out of luck,” Damien scolded. But the two of them shared a fond look.

“I understand now,” she whispered. “And I felt awful for making you feel like your heart needed a limitation on who to love. I understand now why he loves you. Why you love each other. Maybe not fully, but I get that you didn’t take him from me.

You gave him back to me, in a way. You make him happy. ”

I couldn’t stop the tears anymore. They slid down my cheeks freely as I stepped forward, my hands trembling. I wondered how she had found out every single detail of what went down. If Damien had gotten in contact with her, he would have told me.

But what was more important was her forgiveness.

I wanted to go in for a hug, but I watched the timing.

“I’m so sorry, Katya,” I finally breathed after wasting seconds to find my voice. “For everything. For not waiting until I told you about the stranger at the club. For not pushing harder to explain. I made a mistake, too.”

Her lips trembled, and I saw her eyes glisten. “No, you didn’t make a mistake. In fact, he’s part of the reason I came here.”

I blinked, started. “Leo?”

“Yeah. I wanted to see him in person. “He’s…I don’t know. He’s so damn cute, it’s not even fair.” A soft laugh bubbled out of her. “Those big eyes? The way he tries to babble like he has something important to say?”

We shared a soft laugh, and, gradually, it started to feel like the old us again.

“I’m really sorry for not hearing you out, Elena. Our friendship should have been strong enough to survive anything, but I was scared. I thought I was losing everything. But…I think I was just afraid of letting go.”

Damien rose from his chair and stepped forward. He didn’t say anything, but rested a hand on Katya’s shoulder gently, and I watched the last of the tension in her shoulders melt away.

She sprang to her feet and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him very tightly. “ Ya tebya lyublyu, papa.”

I didn’t have to understand Russian to know she’d told him she loved him. He said it to me every night, before we slept, and almost every morning.

“Oh, and I have something to tell you guys, too.” She grinned, pulling away. “I might have some secrets of mine that have to come to the light.”

Damien tilted his head. “What is it?”

She took a breath, and I saw her spine straighten.

“I’ve met someone,” she said.

Damien’s brow lifted slightly. “Oh?”

“And I…I need your blessing, Papa. Before we go further.”

He pondered quietly before asking, “Who is it?”

Katya hesitated. Then, she turned her head and looked at the man who stood by the door, hands clasped in front of him, hard eyes fixed on Damien, jaw set like he expected a bullet.

Oh, my God!

Fedor.

Now, it made sense to know how Katya figured out the details of our relationship. Fedor and Damien were as close as two peas in a pod. He knew every single thing about Damien’s life, including the moment I crossed into their world.

Katya looked back at her father with a twinkle in her eyes. “We’re in love.”

My hand found my chest, but Damien didn’t move. Didn’t blink. The room fell into a stillness so thick it could suffocate.

“Fucking son of a bitch.”

“Papa!”

“Damien!”

Katya and I shrieked at once, but Damien ignored us. “Since when?”

Fedor didn’t so much as flinch. He came forward, dressed smartly in his suit, his voice gravelly low.

“When we returned to LA. I…I was going to tell you, but she literally threatened to scratch my eyes out if I didn’t let her talk to you about it.

We didn’t mean for it to happen. But it did.

And I love her. I swear to protect her with my life. ”

I saw Damien’s fist clench, but he didn’t explode with rage. He looked at his daughter. Then at me.

I swore, if the silence got any thicker, it could’ve smothered the whole damn room. Then—

Damien chuckled.

It burst out of him like a sharp and startled cough, but genuine, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. Fedor may have looked like some of the worst criminals from Gotham, but he was a good man. I could testify that he had been loyal and steady.

He’d stood by Damien when few dared. And as much as it must’ve stunned him, he knew Katya was in safe hands. I thought so, too.

“You’ve got guts,” Damien muttered, clapping a hand on Fedor’s shoulder. “But I swear, if you ever hurt her, I’ll bury you under the fucking wine cellar.”

Fedor nodded solemnly. “Understood.”

Then Damien turned to Katya, kissed her on the forehead, and smiled—truly smiled. “You have my blessing.”

I exhaled a deep breath. And then we were all laughing. Even Fedor. It was absurd, and I blurted before reasoning, “Look at that, Kat, you got yourself a darker shade of Alan Ritchson. More tats and stuff.”

She rolled her eyes, walking up to me. “Nah. There are no comparisons here. My Fedor’s way hotter.” She winked quickly, sobered up, and stretched out her arms. “I missed you, Lena. So fucking much.”

I was crying again, because who knew? Maybe we could go back to how things used to be, when it was Kat and Lena against the world.

“Come on, Lena. Don’t make me beg in front of my father and boyfriend.”

I rolled my eyes but threw myself into her arms regardless, hugging her with all of my heart and soul.

“Why do you always have to be so dramatic?”

***

THE END