Page 25

A year ago, I never would have imagined this moment. Standing on stage, under the glow of bright lights, speaking to an audience filled with investors, entrepreneurs, and some of the most influential figures in the industry. My industry.

I smooth my hands down the sides of my tailored dress, fingers barely trembling as I grip the microphone. The launch of Crafted Connections is bigger than I ever expected—bigger than I dared to dream.

The event hall is packed, the energy electric. Everywhere I look, I see excitement, admiration. I see my team, beaming with pride. I see rows of successful business owners and visionaries, gathered to celebrate this new venture. And then—my gaze lands on him.

Mikhail.

He’s seated in the front row, his usual cold, unreadable demeanor softened into something else entirely. His dark eyes gleam, his lips tugged into the faintest smirk, but it’s the pride in his expression that nearly knocks the breath from my chest.

Pride in me.

I clear my throat, pushing through the overwhelming emotions rising inside me. “I want to thank everyone who made this possible,” I say, my voice steady, though my heart pounds. “My team, the incredible artisans and small-business owners who trusted me with their work, and our investors and partners who saw the potential in this idea and helped bring it to life.”

A pause.

My eyes find Mikhail’s once more, drawn to him like a force beyond my control. He tilts his head slightly, waiting.

“Also, I’d like to make a special thank you—” I inhale deeply. “—to my husband, Mikhail Sharov.”

A murmur ripples through the crowd, a few hushed whispers. His name still carries weight, still evokes a certain level of intrigue—and fear.

None of that matters to me.

I hold my chin high as I continue. “Your support and belief in me made this possible. I don’t think I say it enough, but… I’m grateful for you.”

Mikhail’s smirk deepens, his fingers tapping lazily against his knee. I know that look. He’s enjoying this—being acknowledged in public, being the reason behind my success. Not because he craves attention, but because he knows he played a role in something meaningful to me.

A slow round of applause builds, swelling into a full standing ovation as I finish my speech.

Success.

It’s real. Tangible. Mine.

***

The night air is crisp as I step outside the venue, the weight of the evening still settling over me. The launch was everything I hoped for—and more.

Beside me, Mikhail is relaxed, one hand in his pocket as he watches me, like he’s waiting for something. Maybe for me to say I can’t believe it’s real. Maybe for me to let out all the excitement I’ve been holding back.

I’m about to do just that, when I see it.

A car, sleek and familiar, parked just across the street.

My heart stutters.

The door opens. It’s Sophia. For the first time in a year, I see my sister. Her piercing blue eyes lock on to mine.

I swallow hard, my fingers curling at my sides.

A year without a word. Without a message. Now, here she is.

Mikhail notices the shift in my demeanor immediately. “Julie?” His voice is low, cautious.

I exhale slowly, then straighten my shoulders.

“I’m going to say hello.”

I glance at Mikhail, searching his face for some kind of reaction. He holds my gaze for a moment, his dark eyes unreadable before he gives me a small nod. A silent approval.

Go.

Taking a deep breath, I step forward, my heels clicking softly against the pavement as I make my way toward the sleek car.

Sophia steps forward, her movements guarded, precise.

For a moment, neither of us says anything. Then, she smiles—small and hesitant, but real. “Congratulations,” she says, her voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. “I mean it, Julie. What you’ve built… it’s incredible.”

I blink, taken aback. This isn’t the Sophia I remember. The sister who always had an air of cold calculation around her, the one who always looked at me like I was something fragile, something lesser. There’s something different about her now.

“Thank you,” I murmur, unsure of what else to say.

She exhales, looking down for a moment before meeting my gaze again. “I owe you an apology. A real one.”

I shift on my feet, feeling the weight of her words settle over me. “For what?” I ask, even though I already know.

“For doubting you,” she says. “For not seeing you. For… using you.”

A lump forms in my throat, but I stay quiet.

“I always thought I had everything figured out,” she continues, her voice carrying a tinge of regret. “Father groomed me to be his perfect heir. I followed every step, played every game, and I thought I was doing the right thing. But I was blind to so much—especially to you.”

Her words hit me harder than I expect.

“I see it now,” she adds, glancing over her shoulder, as if remembering something. “Now that he’s gone… now that I have no one left.”

I frown. “Gone?”

She nods. “Father’s sick. Weak. He moved overseas to recover, but… he won’t be the same. The Spades are still strong, but the foundation is cracked.” She exhales slowly. “I stayed behind, but the mansion—it feels empty.”

For the first time, I see something I never thought I would see in Sophia. Loneliness. Regret.

She smiles again, but it’s sadder this time. “I realize now that all the power in the world means nothing if you have no one to share it with.” Her gaze flickers past me, landing on Mikhail, who still stands at a distance, watching carefully. “I’m glad you found your place,” she murmurs.

I swallow hard. I don’t know what to say. I spent so long resenting her. So long believing she’d never change.

“I didn’t come to ask for anything,” she continues. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. Say that I’m proud of you.”

Something in my chest tightens. It takes me a moment to find my voice. “I forgive you,” I say, the words surprising even me.

Sophia’s jaw tightens, her lips parting slightly as if she’s caught off guard.

“You’re still my sister,” I add. “I guess… now you’re going to be an aunt.”

Her brows furrow, confused. “What?”

I take a steady breath, letting the words settle in my mind before I say them out loud.

“I’m pregnant,” I reveal. “A few months along.”

Sophia’s eyes widen. “You’re going to be a mother?”

I nod.

For a second, she just stares at me, speechless. Then, to my complete shock, a wide, genuine smile spreads across her face. She steps closer, and before I can react, she pulls me into a hug.

“Julie,” she breathes, holding me tightly. “That’s… amazing.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling the warmth of her embrace. This is what I wanted. What I always wanted. Not just her approval—but her love.

“You’re going to be an incredible mother,” she says, pulling back to look at me.

Tears prick at my eyes, but I blink them away, nodding. “And you’re going to be an aunt.”

Sophia laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. “I never thought I’d be excited about something like this, but… I am.” She exhales, stepping back. “Thank you. For forgiving me. For giving me the chance to be in your life again.”

I nod. “Just don’t waste it.”

She smiles. “I won’t.”

For the first time in forever, I believe her.

I watch as Sophia hops into her vehicle, and the car disappears down the street, the taillights glowing dimly in the evening light. A strange mix of emotions churns in my chest—relief, sadness, closure. I never thought this day would come. Never thought I’d hear her apologize, let alone feel like we’d rebuilt something that was lost long before I was taken away from my family.

Mikhail places a hand on my lower back, his warmth grounding me. “That went better than I expected,” he murmurs.

I glance up at him. “Yeah… it did.”

“You okay?”

I nod, exhaling. “I think so.”

There’s something about the way he looks at me—like he’s proud. Like he understands exactly how much this moment meant to me, even if I haven’t fully processed it myself.

He doesn’t press further. Instead, he guides me toward the car, opening the door for me before getting in himself.

The ride home is quiet, but not in an uncomfortable way. I’m lost in thought, my hand resting on my stomach, my mind drifting to the future.

Mikhail notices. His gaze flicks to me before returning to the road. “You’re thinking too much.”

I let out a small laugh. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

I roll my eyes but don’t argue. Maybe he’s right. Maybe, for once, I should just let things be.

The moment we step inside, a familiar blur of fur streaks across the floor. A soft meow follows, and before I can even react, Luka—who has grown significantly over the last year—leaps onto the arm of the couch, staring at us expectantly.

“Someone’s been waiting for us,” I say, smiling.

Mikhail just shakes his head, but there’s amusement in his expression. “I should have known you’d make me a damn cat person.”

I walk over and scratch behind the kitten’s ears—though kitten isn’t really the right word anymore. She’s bigger now, sleek and healthy, her once-scrawny body filled out.

“You love her,” I tease.

Mikhail exhales, then reaches down, picking the cat up by the scruff of her neck before settling her against his chest. The cat purrs instantly, curling against him like she owns him.

He scowls. “I tolerate her.”

I laugh. “Sure you do.”

The sight of him holding her like that does something to me. It’s such a stark contrast—this brutal man, feared by many, cradling a tiny creature with unexpected care.

“You’re such a softie,” I murmur.

His dark eyes snap to mine. “What did you just say?”

I grin. “Nothing.”

Mikhail places the cat down, then turns to me, stepping closer. “You’re getting bolder,” he muses, his voice dropping slightly.

“Maybe.”

His hands slide around my waist, pulling me against him. My heart skips, the warmth of his body seeping into mine.

“Bold enough to say that again?”

I bite my lip, tilting my chin up defiantly. “You’re a softie, Mikhail.”

He smirks, but there’s a glint in his eyes—one that sends a thrill through me. “Is that so?”

Before I can react, he lifts me effortlessly, throwing me over his shoulder. I let out a small yelp, my fists lightly pounding against his back. “Mikhail!”

He ignores my protests, carrying me toward the bedroom as if I weigh nothing.

“Put me down!” I demand, though I can’t stop the laughter bubbling up.

He finally tosses me onto the bed, climbing over me in a fluid motion. “You never learn, do you?” he murmurs, brushing my hair back from my face.

I swallow hard, my body instantly responding to his closeness. “You love it,” I whisper.

He doesn’t deny it. Instead, he kisses me—slow and deep, his hands sliding down my sides, claiming me all over again.

Right now, I know—I made the right choice.

*****

THE END