Page 82 of Conceal

He holds her while he talks. “I have a jet waiting to take you wherever you want to go. Roman told me Paris. It’s beautiful this time of year. You’ll love it. And once you’re all settled in, you let me know, and I’ll come down for a visit.”

“Where do you live?”

“Kolomna. Just outside of Moscow. It’s beautiful there, too. And you have cousins who are dying to meet you.”

“I do? Cousins?”

He takes her shoulders in his hands and smiles down at his niece.

“You have more cousins than you probably want. But it is what it is.” His accent is thick, and his voice chokes up as he talks about his family, and in an instant, I decide that I approve of this man. Anyone who looks at Tatiana as someone worth knowing is good in my book.

A small jet taxis up to us, and a pilot descends the stairs, letting us know we’re scheduled for takeoff in half an hour.

I leave Tati and Ilya to catch up as I help Ro and Mik and as a steward loads our things. Ilya’s man hands Ro a stack of papers, with a handful of deep red passports on top.

Tatiana and Ilya hug again, reiterating their promises to see each other more, now that he’s the only family she has left.

We board the plane, buckle in, listen to the safety brief, and as the engines roar and shoot our tiny jet into the night sky, I watch the lights below us get smaller and smaller, until the plane turns and we’re over the vast blackness of the Atlantic ocean.

But then a giggle comes to me over the roaring of the engine, and I turn to see Tati, in all her beautiful glory, her ass in Mik’s lap, and her feet on Ro’s, and I know we’re all going to be okay.

For the first time in any of our lives, we’re going to be more than okay.

Tatiana will be free to live and love exactly how she has always wanted.

Mikhail will continue to love his best friend, but from now on he gets to love her out loud. And let himself feel her love, too.

And me? For the first time in my life, I know I don’t have a looming life sentence. That the curse ends with me. Because I have too much I need to do and for the woman in front of me.

And when her tired, smiling eyes find mine, and she reaches out to me, I know I’m exactly where I belong.

The End

Chapter fifty-one

Epilogue

Tatiana

One year later

“Bonne nuit, Pascal,” Goodnight, Pascal. I say as I lock up the front door to my new gallery. We’re not open to the public yet, but I’ve had the absolute time of my life finding the perfect location and spending my days traveling the French countryside sourcing the very best artwork.

And yes, most of it is love-centric.

Some things will never change.

Pascal is a homeless veteran of l’Armée de l’Air - the French Air Force who sleeps in front of my gallery every night. I’ve offered him the apartment above the gallery more times than I can count, but he always refuses. I’ve stopped pushing. He knows the offer is there whenever he’s ready to accept it.

I bring him coffees and pastries every morning and dinner most nights, and in return, he protects the gallery at night. Paris may be the city of love and is modern and fashionable, but night times bring out the worst of the city.

“Bonne nuit, madame,” he replies, pulling the camping blanket I bought him up around his shoulders.

A car is waiting for me at the curb, and I smile. Roman.

I climb into the passenger seat, leaning over to give him a kiss on his scruffy cheek. He’s been wearing a light beard ever since “retirement,” and I love the rugged look on him.

Our chateau is about an hour from the city, but I don’t mind the commute. After everything went down with the Vitales and Chernovs, we flew into Paris and stayed in a historic hotel for a month while we toured houses.