Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
I often find myself staring at the tiny humans I grew, watching as they take in the world around them, minute expressions crossing their faces, changing every moment. They’re a miracle, these children who weren’t supposed to be but are, with their dark hair and green eyes.
Jordan is always curious about the world, always reaching for people, always talking in coos and other sounds. Eliana is quiet, watchful, those big green eyes absorbing everything around her without comment.
Before I’d given birth, I hadn’t known my heart could open so wide, could love so much. I had no idea pieces of my heart could live outside my body, but here they are in front of me. And I’m so grateful for them.
Something else I’m eternally grateful for? The man walking through the door, flanked by Dmitri and two other men in dark suits and dark glasses. He never fails to make the butterflies dance in my chest.
Even though the bookstore is packed, an actual aisle of space opens for my husband and his men. Whether or not the patrons know who he is, they move because of the aura surrounding him. Covert looks trail him, flick to his scars, then slide away, just as their bodies step aside.
At one time, I did, too. But now I know all the other parts of Evgeny, the part of him that holds me close at night, the part that came to my rescue when Vasya would have killed me. The part that didn’t give up protecting me even though I told him I wanted nothing to do with him. The part that fixed me up in the club with gentle hands, the same gentle hands that hold our twins.
I know those hands have done terrible things and will continue to do so. That is part of being his wife. But I’ve chosen this life, this love, this beast who is a man beneath all those layers of darkness.
“You made it.”
The beginning phases of the downtown development project are in full swing, and between that and the Bratva, Evgeny is busier than ever. But he still made time to celebrate today.
My husband comes around the counter and gathers me in as I rise on tiptoe and wind my arms around his neck. “I wouldn’t have missed it. This is incredible.”
“Right?” I laugh, thrilled, especially now that he’s here to share my joy.
Evgeny is warm and solid, engulfing me in his hold, which has become my favorite place. I take a deep breath, his scent surrounding me, and he leans in to plant a soft kiss on my mouth.
“Isn’t it strange for the landlord to randomly stop by?” Dmitri winks from over Evgeny’s shoulder, and I laugh.
Dmitri’s only been back at Evgeny’s side for the past month, after several on light duty per the doctor’s orders, and only after months of recovery.
I’m grateful life has finally settled into some semblance of normal, even if our day-to-day looks entirely different than we would have imagined a year and a half ago.
And here I am, with Evgeny’s arm curled possessively around my waist as he talks to Marco and Dmitri, while Katie flits back and forth through the crowd, giggling with friends, and even my father chats with several customers. My son and daughter sleep in their carriers behind me.
Some days, I can’t believe my life. I can’t believe the man I wake up with every morning is my mysterious white knight from the club, the beast who kept me locked up in his castle-like residence, who scared the hell out of me and heated my blood to a boil until I didn’t know whether to run from him or toward him.
Nothing in my life is what I thought it would be. Not Evgeny, not my kids, not my family, not the fact that I live in an incredible rental house on the beach in Malibu while our Palos Verdes estate is rebuilt.
As if he feels me looking at him, Evgeny cants his head in my direction. Just like that night in the club, the strong line of his jaw, the dark, tousled hair, the glow of his green eyes steal my breath away, and the butterflies start dancing. His hand touches my cheek lightly, and he smiles before dipping his head, his lips brushing my ear to send a shiver through me.
“I love you,” he murmurs, a breath across my skin.
“Love you, too.” I grin up at him and am rewarded by a bright twinkle in his eye, pure happiness.
I’m happy, too. I’m so insanely happy where I am, with my hauntingly beautiful beast and the life we’re building together.
EXTENDED EPILOGUE
EVGENY
“The cake is here, Eva.”
My wife is in the middle of a dizzying collection of what I can only call madness, one she orders with an alacrity fit for the wife of a pakhan. The way she’s navigating the insanity might put even me to shame.