“He wanted to die, Willow,” I tell her. “He’d had enough of life by the time he wrote to me. But he hung in to make sure it ended properly.”
“So Luda…？”
“Luda gave him a quick and painless death. He asked her to kill him long before Belov gave the order.”
“You knew this would be the outcome all along?”
“It was all part of the plan,” I say simply. “Ariel’s death was the only thing that was never supposed to happen. But even a don can’t play God.”
“At least not all the time, huh?”
I smile, and Willow takes a deep breath. “I think it’s about time you meet your son.”
She takes a step forward and pulls the baby blanket aside to reveal the face of the plump, little baby in her arms.
“He looks like you,” she whispers.
I lift my son in my arms for the first time.
“No. He looks like the future.”
EPILOGUE: WILLOW
ONE YEAR LATER
“I can’t believe he’s one already,” Mom says affectionately.
Pasha stands up only to fall back on his butt almost immediately. I offer him a hand, but he ignores it and tries to stand again.
“Stubborn,” I tease with a smile. “Just like your papa.”
“Whereas his mother accepts help so graciously?” Dad asks, chuckling in my direction.
“Very funny.” I roll my eyes. “So maybe he gets that from both of us.”
“That’ll make life fun for you two when he’s a teenager,” Mom chimes in.
I wave her away. “I’m not thinking about that until I have to.”
Right now, Pasha is still a chubby little baby who needs me. There are some days when I feel like it’s going to stay this way forever. I wish it could.
I rest my head on my mother’s lap and she strokes my hair. I’ve let it grow out the last few months so it falls down to my middle back.
I mentioned cutting it ages ago, but Leo gave me a wicked grin. “But what will I have to hold onto?”
People say it’s impossible to find alone time with your partner when you have a little one, but Leo and I manage it. Frequently. And he makes full use of my long locks every time we do.
“It’s so lovely to spend quality time with the two of you,” Mom sighs.
“But where is Leo?” my dad asks. “I thought he was supposed to be here, too.”
I smile, thrilled that my parents want to see my husband. Apparently, the year I spent with Anya saw the three of them grow quite close.
“Business meeting.” I roll over and turn my face up to the sun.
I love the gardens at this time of year. It’s cool enough that you don’t sweat and warm enough that you can spend hours lounging in the grass, watching fluffy clouds drift by overhead.
“Shouldn’t you be in there?” Dad asks. “You’re one half of the Bratva power couple.”
I laugh. It took them a while to get used to the lingo, but now, it rolls off their tongues easily. Bratva, the same way he’d say IBM or the water company, as if it were merely another normal business doing normal business things. “I chose not to be there.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to be here with you two and Pasha.”
The truth is that, while I’ve grown accustomed to the Bratva lifestyle, I don’t feel the need to be intimately involved in every detail of it. I trust my husband to handle the bulk of the work. I’m more like a silent partner.
Although I have no problem making my voice be heard if I feel strongly enough about something.
“What is it called now?” dad asks. “The Mikhailov Bratva or the Solovev Bratva?”
“Both,” I say. “It’s understood that they both have one don. And Pasha has both names, anyway, so we saw no need to change anything.”
“Pasha Leonardo Mikhailov Solovev,” Mom says. “That’s quite the mouthful.”
I sit up so that I can see both their faces. “Actually, you missed one.”
“Dear Lord, you gave the boy another name?” Dad asks in alarm.
“He’s strong. He can carry them,” I say confidently. “You want to hear his whole name?”
They both nod.
“Pasha Leonardo Powers Mikhailov Solovev,” I say.
My parents stare at me. Neither of them says anything, but their eyes look suddenly watery.
“What do you think now?” I ask, a teasing smile turning the corners of my mouth.
Mom presses a hand to her chest. “Sweetheart, are you sure?”