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“I love you,” I hear him whisper.
“I love you, too, Clara,” I whisper back. “More than you’ll ever know.”
EPILOGUE: CLARA
I can’t breathe.
I can’t hear.
IknowI’ve suddenly gone blind because there’s no way in hell I’m seeing this machine flash that giant word in front of me.
Jackpot.
There’s no way this can happen to me—twice—right?
This time, my victory fists manage to not punch a tray of champagne all over the broodingly handsome man who’s currently watching me like a hawk. He’s got this strange smile on his face like he’s happy for me but also dealing with a bout of constipation.
“I won!” I point at the screen flashing my winnings. “I fuckingwon!”
“Look at you, cleaning out my house.” Demyen chuckles and presses a kiss to the curve of my neck. “I hope you know this means you have to give me a chance to win it back.”
I giggle and turn to face his mischievous little grin. “Oh, really? Since when?”
There it is again: that flash of uncertainty. Like he’s happy, but he’s… nervous? He shutters it away and kisses me full on the mouth. “Since forever. House rules.”
“Ugh, get a room, you two.” Bambi sidles over, cocktail in one hand and Pavel’s arm looped in the other. She winks at me when she sees me blush. When she looks at Demyen, she pauses. “Hey, buddy, you lookin’ a little… backed-up. Need some fiber?”
Demyen narrows his eyes at her. “Shut up.”
Bambi giggles and elbows Pavel, who looks like the cat who ate the canary. “Everything’s good to go,” he informs us. “The arrangements were made and everything panned out smoothly.”
I’m assuming he means the arrangements Demyen decided to make regarding the trafficking victims we helped liberate several weeks ago. After Raizo’s men were executed—and I did end up staying to watch, protected in Demyen’s tight embrace while he called out the command to ready, aim,fire—the eighty women we recovered were taken to a small collection of safehouses belonging to the Bratva across the Mojave Desert.
At first, it was meant to be a temporary overnight stay until Bambi could make sure any calls to the authorities wouldn’t lead them to filing unrelated charges against Demyen, Tolya, or anyone else involved in the raid.
But then word began to spread in all the right circles. The more he tried to help these women find their families and regain some semblance of normalcy, the more his phone rang and his email inbox filled with requests for interviews with heads of state and investigative agencies around the world.
Last week, he had a meeting with the FBI.
From what I understand, they may be turning a blind eye to his smuggling operations in exchange for his cooperation as a consultant within the human trafficking division.
Demyen Zakrevsky, internationally recognized good guy.
Never thought I’d see the day.
“I’m proud of you,” I tell him with every ounce of love pushed through each syllable.
Demyen looks at me, confused for a moment. As if he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. But then he smiles and nuzzles my hair. “You haven’t seen anything yet, baby.”
Bambi coughs on her drink. Pavel elbows her in the ribs and pretends like he’s focused on something on his phone.
I… don’t exactly know what’s going on.
“Tolya just texted,” Pavel says with a nervous little cough. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s changing subjects. On purpose. “Willow is being a perfect little angel and has him wrapped around her finger.”
“As she should,” I laugh. I’m so glad those two are getting along. It took Willow exactly zero seconds to welcome the giant Russian ex-con into her glittery pink world of dolls, crayons, and a pitbull named Princess. It took Tolya hardly even a few minutes to adjust to being The Fun Uncle who dotes on his sweetly mischievous little niece.
My theory? Eva’s been a huge factor in getting his life back to “normal.”
