Page 121 of Thorns of Love

“Vasili said they’ll be a handful,” she whispered, smiling. “He said they are as loud as I was.”

I chuckled.

My brothers-in-law claimed our twins would be hellions. I feared they might be right. Even at the tender age of three months, they frequently had little tantrums.

Of course, our twins took after the Nikolaevs. God help me.

“Nothing we can’t handle,” I murmured softly. “My partner and I. Together.”

My wife’s eyes shimmered like pale sapphires. “Together.”

My wife leaned over, our fingers interlocking. “I love you, Illias Konstantin.”

“I love you, Tatiana Nikolaev Konstantin. In this life and next.”

She and our children were my everything.

My sun, moon, and stars.

EPILOGUE - TATIANA

THREE YEARS LATER

I played with the devil and the result was a fairytale. It wasn’t all roses, there were thorns too but I loved every single moment with him and our children.

It turned out the devil was exactly what I needed in my life. My villain became my hero. My husband. My lover. And most importantly my friend.

True to his word, Illias and I were partners. Sometimes he still liked to protect me and keep stressful things from me but I cut that shit right off. He was demanding, so was I. He needed a lot of love. So did I.

Turns out my gazebo man was a romantic at heart. He had purchased the property that brought us together and every now and then, when we needed time alone, we’d fly there and he’d show me exactly how good we fit. Not that I doubted it. Never again would I doubt my husband. He owned me, but I owned him too.

That was how marriage worked.

Placing the pregnancy test on the bathroom sink, I washed my hands. I couldn’t help flickering my eyes to the little window on the stick. I just celebrated my thirtieth birthday last week. Illias took me to Paris - just the two of us. It was our first trip alone since we’d had the twins.

It was magical. Everything with my husband felt like a fairytale dream come true.

He booked the Eiffel Tower, just for the two of us. We wined and dined, then took a stroll, enjoying the magnificent views as he whispered the world was at our feet. I grew up not seeing love, at least not the kind between a man and woman, but somehow the idea of it always lingered in my heart. It wasn’t until I tasted it myself that I saw the power of it.

“How does it feel having Paris at your feet, Mrs. Konstantin?” my husband had asked with his strong arms wrapped around my waist.

I’d turned my face to the side, so I could drown in my devil’s eyes. “Nothing beats the feeling of having you, Illias.” I loved him so much that sometimes I swore I could feel thorns pricking my skin. “As long as you’re with me, I wouldn’t care if we were in the middle of a jungle. But Paris at my feet is nice too.”

I’d leaned back against his strong body, letting his heat seep through my skin. “Now, please touch me,” I’d pleaded half-teasingly. “I’ve never been fucked on top of the Eiffel Tower. Show me how good it feels.”

He did. The noise of Paris couldn’t reach us, but my heart thundered just the same as he touched me, owning my heart, soul, and body. I screamed his name, letting it carry over the wind while he whispered how much he loved me. How happy I made him. And how we’d make more babies.

It was bound to happen again when we both ignored protection and fooled around day and night. I was just surprised that it had taken this long, if I was indeed pregnant again. He’d made it no secret he wanted more children. It was fine by me because I wanted a big family. A happy family.

Leaving Paris in my memories and bringing reality into our bathroom at our manor in New Orleans, I returned to the original reason I was hanging in the bathroom while my little ones threw Legos all over my bedroom.

The pregnancy test.

Two pink lines stared back at me and I smiled. “Daddy’s gonna be happy,” I murmured softly.

My twins busted through the door, ignoring my need for privacy and Astor reached for the used pregnancy test.

“No, no, no,” I scolded. Luckily, I was fast enough and I snatched it out of his reach, tutting him softly.