Epilogue
Nikolai
Seven months later
“Malenkaya,” I call out as I enter the house.
“Here,” she replies sweetly, sounding distracted.
I move through the home, one that we moved into almost six months ago. Although Lena never mentioned anything about living in the house her mother also lived in, it played on my mind, not to mention the memory of watching that bitch hit her across the head. So I found a new home for us, one that we’ll raise our family in also.
I walk into the kitchen to see her standing at the stove, cooking. She’s wearing a short robe that hits just below the tops of her thighs, letting me see her perfect legs and creamy skin. Her hair is loose and hanging down her back.
“You okay, dorogaya?” I ask as I step up behind her, my hands sliding around her waist and pressing against her bump. She’s ready to give birth any week now and there’s excitement from not only Lena and I, but also my men.
She leans her head back against my chest. “Yes, we’re good.”
“Hmmm,” I say. “Did you do anything today?” I wonder if she’s going to lie to me.
“You already know, Nikolai, so why don’t you say whatever it is that’s on your mind and get it over and done with. I’m hungry.”
I check my anger, knowing that an argument at this stage could end up with her in labor. “You promised me—“
She sets the pot off the heat and turns to look at me, my hands falling from her body. My gaze goes to her robe which is open slightly, giving me the perfect look at the swell of her breasts. “I did no such thing. I told you that I would consider retirement, but I never agreed to it.” She crosses her arms over her chest, which pushes her breasts up further. “My eyes are up here,” she tells me and I move my gaze from her breasts to her face. “That’s better,” she tells me as her lips twitch. “I did what I had to do.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Why can’t she do what I say? My life would be so much fucking easier. “Malenkaya, you are eight months pregnant, why do you insist on trying to give me gray hairs?”
She gets onto her tiptoes and peers at my head. “You had those before we met,” she replies, her eyes filled with mischief. “What did you expect from me, Nikolai?”
“That you take care, dorogaya, you have a life to think about.”
Her eyes widen and fill with tears. My gut clenches at the anger and hurt that slash through her features. “If you had bothered to check,” she hisses. “Then you would have known that I wasn’t alone. In fact, not only was Ilya with me but so was Stefan, Konstantin, Kostya, and Pasha.” She steps away from me. “I am not a fucking damsel in distress, nor am I stupid. I may not have wanted this baby at the beginning given how we started, Nik, but I love my son and I will do everything in my power to protect him. To protect you.” Her chest heaves as she glares at me.
“I understand that, malenkaya—“
She raises her hand to stop me. “So yes, when I discovered that Marko Babic wanted revenge for you not only killing his men but also the woman he’d been fucking for years, I knew I had to do something to ensure that the two people I loved most wouldn’t be harmed.”
“So you took out the head of the Babic family?” I ask incredulously.
“Yes,” she replies simply, her brow raised and her hands on her hips. “What did you expect me to do, Nikolai? Sit on my ass and wait for them to take us all out? To take out my son?”
“No,” I grit out, knowing that a woman who is trained as she is, would never sit back and allow someone to hurt the ones that she loves.
She beams at me. “So, take that look off your face, the bastard is dead and the Babic family is no more. Our son can live a life without having those assholes after him. I understand why you’re angry, but you have no right to be and you have no right to insinuate that I’m a bad mother.”
Fuck.
I cross the room toward her and pull her into my arms. “I’m sorry, malenkaya.” I’m an asshole the majority of time.
“It’s done,” she tells me as she looks up at me with her beautiful green eyes.
“It is,” I reply as my hands slide down to her waist. Even eight months later, I can’t get enough of her. She’s always been the one that has me harder than stone with just a look. There’ll never be anyone else for me other than Yelena.
“Nik,“ she whines as my hands move under her robe. I caress her skin. “Please,” she moans.
“What do you want, malenkaya?” I growl as her fingers go to my belt, undoing it without pause.
“You,” she says simply, her breath hitching as I knead her ass.