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Kristof hums softly, slowly shifting in his seat, so I remain quiet and watch in awe.
It’s over.
Officially.
We’ve come so far, so incredibly far, and now our baby is here. Everything is perfect.
“Alena.” It turns out Kristof has a sixth sense for when I’m awake, and his eyes snap to me. “How are you feeling?”
“Terrible,” I whisper, unwilling to speak too loud just in case I disturb our new darling.
“Anything you need?” He shifts closer, and from a new angle, I glimpse our daughter’s adorable sleeping face.
“No. Honestly, I feel like I’ve just been pounded by an elephant.”
“Wow, I’ll have my work cut out for me the next time I fuck you then, huh?” Kristof jokes softly.
I immediately flip him off, then my heart clenches at the sight of a small smile gracing my daughter’s face. Is she smiling because she heard her father laugh or because she can hear our voices?
It’s such an alien feeling to see her, knowing she was inside me. But she’s the strongest confirmation I need.
I did it.
I had my baby.
I’m a mother now, and there’s a new fire inside me burning so brightly. It was the same fire that ignited within me when Mikhail touched my belly—a fire stoking the determined, motherly need to protect.
With it comes a bit of sadness. Did Mara not feel this same swell of love and protection for me? Was there something wrong with me when I was born that she simply didn’t feel this intense, motherly pull?
As if sensing my emotional spiral, Kristof rises suddenly and very gently, very carefully lowers our daughter into my waiting arms.
My mind goes silent. All my lingering pain fades away into nothing, and my focus narrows down to the tiny sleeping face tucked into my elbow.
How is it possible to love someone so intensely when they’re brand-new?
“Hi, Tatiana,” I whisper down to her adorable scrunched-up face. “Welcome to the world.”
37
KRISTOF
The last time I sat in for a meeting in the Orlova estate, the table looked very different and the sea of faces around it lacked the variety it carries now.
I sit at the head of the table now, staring out at a sea of faces that all look at me with a mixture of hope and curiosity. Each person here earned my loyalty, and I earned theirs in turn, but now is the time when I have to prove to them that they made the right choice in backing me. They wait for my grand plan to return the Russian Bratva back to their former glory, their assurance that I will take care of them and their Families.
Alena sits to my right, her hands crossed on the table and the baby monitor just to her left. Katja is taking care of Tatiana while we conduct this meeting, but I know Alena feels the same antsy rush to get back to our daughter as soon as possible that burrows in my own chest..
I glance around the table at everyone in turn.
August sits to my left with two of his most trusted lieutenants. Next to him sits Alexei, who wears a mask of confusion—this is the first time he’s been asked to sit at the table and not stand by the wall as a guard, and for good reason. The less familiar faces of a few smaller Russian Families who earned August’s loyalty finish the left side, with Andrev standing by the door.
The right side of the table holds Seamus and the surviving members of his Family. Upon meeting them, it seems Seamus played down how badly the Irish were hurt during Aleksander’s betrayal, but our alliance still stands and that’s all I care about.
I glance at Alena, and she smiles strongly, willing me on.
Showtime.
I stand slowly, and the few drifting eyes that weren’t focused snap to me immediately.
