Page 46 of Ruinous Need

LISETTE

EPILOGUE

“Okay, what about this tattoo?” I use my hand to trace the black ravens that soar over Viktor’s shoulders while we lie outside in the sun.

“That one is a good memory. Once, when I was tracking down one of the old members of the Council, I was followed into a room by another assassin. Then I saw a raven outside —”

“Wait, I thought you said it was a good memory?” I cover my mouth to hide my giggle. I can’t help laughing at Viktor’s standards for something upbeat.

“It is. You can have good memories at work. That raven saved my life. He tapped his beak on the window and I turned around just in time. It made me feel like everything was going to work out. I didn’t believe that often, in those days.”

I roll my eyes. I hadn’t expected Viktor to be superstitious, but he has a lot of old-fashioned beliefs I’ve never heard of.

If you go back to the house because you’ve forgotten something — which happens to me all the damn time with my pregnancy brain — you have to look at yourself in the mirror before you leave again, or else it’s bad luck.

“And what about now?” I ask him. “Do you believe that things are going to work out, even though there aren’t any ravens saving us from death?”

Viktor pulls me closer to him, the white marble beneath us warm from the sun. “Of course. I have you. You are my good-luck charm.”

I sigh as he strokes a hand down to my belly, already swelling with our child. I’ve been having weekly check-ups, even while we take our honeymoon.

Dr Porter came with us, but there are no complications so far. She keeps telling me that our baby is healthy and everything’s going to be fine, but I can’t help being nervous.

I find it reassuring to have her here. And with no medical bills to worry about, I can finally get the keyhole surgery that is the best treatment for endo. Once I have this baby, she says we can operate within a few months.

It might not work. But there’s a chance it will, and that’s so much more than I ever had before.

I sigh and lean against Viktor’s solid frame.

“This place is insane. I can’t believe we’re really here.”

The terrace over the Mediterranean Sea feels secluded, but it’s right on the bustling Cinque Terre. The white marble balcony where we’re seated looks out over the sparkling water, but the olive trees which overhang us make our space feel private.

He nods his head. “I’m still not convinced it isn’t an assassination attempt.”

As an apology for taking Semyon’s bait and trying to kidnap me and kill Viktor, Romeo Cavillini has allowed us to borrow his holiday home in Italy for the season.

I’m pretty sure Merc and Ben have been putting in a lot of work to repair the relationship between the Bratva and the Mafia.

As Merc put it when they visited, “We hate to see our parents fighting.” While they hate the old Don, Romeo is looking more and more likely to take over.

Once they convinced Viktor that things would be changing soon, he was more amendable to rebuilding the relationship.

I’m glad that he’s smoothed things over, but coming to grips with the complicated world of mafia politics is exhausting. Especially because Viktor’s beginning from square one — he’s held a knife to the throat of half of the organized crime leaders in New York.

There’s a lot of work to do when we get back. But for the month that we’re here, mafia politics is banned. No mobs. No meetings. No killing, or tracking down old men to get revenge on. There’s only relaxation and sun, and the occasional friend visiting.

Kyle was here last week, updating me on the running of Marianne’s ballet studio. She left me the whole business in her will, the central New York premises included.

I was a crying wreck for days when I found out.

I was so consumed by the drama with Semyon and Viktor that I never got the chance to grieve her properly.

The pain has been delayed until now, which isn’t ideal, but I’m working on giving myself the space that I need to work though my emotions and remember her.

Kyle is running classes until I have this baby and I can take over operations at the ballet school. It feels precious to me, that I get to honor Marianne’s memory in that way, by continuing her old business.

And, at Kyle’s insistence, I will attempt to perform at the students’ end of year concert next year. He made me shake on it before he flew back to New York.

“Just because you’re having a baby doesn’t mean it’s over for you,” he tells me. With his connections in the dance world, maybe he’s right. “Marianne would want you to keep trying.”

I know she would.

“What’s going through your head?” Viktor asks, moving my hair out of the way so he can placing his lips to my neck.

“Marianne. And dance. Kyle thinks I can perform again… But I don’t know.”

“It’s about baby steps,” Viktor murmurs against the top of my head. “If you can get over your fear of Chekhov, you can get over your fear of dance, too.” He squeezes my hand tight.

A staff member comes out with a tray of canapés.

I’ve decided that I’m okay with having people serve us, but only while we’re on holiday. And maybe when we have a newborn who won’t let us sleep, as well.

Later tonight, we’re heading out on a yacht to watch the sunset.

I love it here, and I love that Viktor’s finally okay with showing me to the world. But sometimes I do wish we could go back to when it was just the two of us, undisturbed.

“You know, this is beautiful,” I place a hand on his tattooed chest. “But what I would love is to be trapped in an apartment with my husband.”

He raises his eyebrows, a familiar possessive smirk playing on the edge of his lips. “That can be arranged.”

THE END