Chapter 186 187
Chapter 186 187
When he breaks away, his eyes blaze. “You’re sure?”
“Doctor confirmed it yesterday. Twelve weeks.”
“Twelve weeks?” His brow furrows. “And you’re only telling me now?”
“I wanted to be certain. After last time, with the false positive…” I trail off, remembering the devastation, the complicated grief of mourning something that never existed. “I couldn’t go through that again.”
Understanding softens his features. His palm slides to my stomach. There’s nothing to feel yet, no external sign of the life forming inside me, but the weight of his hand there feels like an anchor.
“Another warrior for the Akopov legacy.” Pride suffuses his voice, but there are other things, too—wonder, humility, gratitude.
This pregnancy feels nothing like my first. Then, I was terrified, alone, convinced Vince would see our child as an inconvenience at best, a liability at worst.
Now, standing in his arms as he looks at me like I’ve hung the moon and stars, I feel only joy. Fierce, all-consuming joy.
“You’re happy?” I search his face for confirmation.
His laugh is incredulous. “Happy doesn’t begin to cover it, Rowan. I’m fucking transcendent.”
We dance through three more songs, lost in our private bubble of exhilaration. When Anastasia finally interrupts to return a fussy Sofiya, Vince takes our daughter with gentle hands and hoists her high overhead.
“Sofi,” he asks, “how would you like to be a big sister?”
She blinks at him and smiles. She doesn’t get it, but she will soon enough.
Vince’s eyes meet mine over Sofiya’s dark curls, and the raw love I see there nearly brings me to my knees. This man who has killed without remorse, who has built and destroyed empires, looks at his daughter and wife with such tenderness that it fractures something inside me.
“I need air,” I say suddenly. “Watch her for a minute?”
I don’t wait for his response. I’m already pushing through the crowd toward the terrace doors. Outside, the night air hits my lungs like salvation, cooling my flushed skin. The Hudson River stretches before me, dark and silent, carrying secrets to the sea.
“Hiding from your own party?”
I turn to find Natalie standing in the doorway, champagne flute in hand. She looks beautiful in deep burgundy, her hair longer than I remember.
“Just needed a moment.” I gesture for her to join me at the railing. “Congratulations. The event planning is flawless.”
She smiles, taking the compliment in stride. Not that long ago, the sound of her voice would have sent rage spiraling through me—my closest friend, paid by Vince to spy on me for years.
But time and shared trauma have tamped down the edges of that betrayal. When she stood by me after Andrei’s death, helping fabricate evidence to protect Vince, she proved her loyalty ran deeper than money ever could.
“I have something to ask you,” I say, diving straight in. “Something important.”
Her eyebrows rise. “I’m listening.”
“I’m pregnant.”
Her smile is immediate, genuine. “Rowan, that’s amazing!
Congratulations!”
“And I want you to be the godmother.”
Natalie freezes, glass halfway to her lips. “What?”
“You heard me.” I turn to face her fully. “I want you to be this baby’s godmother.”
“After everything I —”
“After everything,” I confirm. “You made mistakes. So did I. But when it mattered, when Vince’s life was on the line, when Sofiya’s future hung in the balance, you were there. That’s worth more than anything else.”
Tears fill her eyes, threatening to spill over. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
“Probably not,” I agree with a wink. “But you’re getting it anyway.”
She laughs wetly, dabbing at her eyes. “Then yes. I’d be honored.”
Relief surges through me. Our friendship will never be what it was—too much has happened, too many secrets and lies between us—but this new relationship, built on hard-earned trust and painful honesty, might be stronger for having been broken.
“How’s Arkady doing?” Natalie asks, recovering her composure. “I haven’t seen him at the office since… well, since the shooting.”
Something in her tone makes me glance at her sharply. “He’s better. Physical therapy is kicking his ass, but he’s trudging through it. Doctors say it’s a miracle he survived.”
“And he’s here tonight?” Her attempt at casualness falls comically short. “Inside, probably harassing the bartender for stronger vodka.” I study her with growing amusement. “Why do you ask?”
A blush creeps up her neck. “No reason. Just… professional concern.”
“Bullshit.” I laugh, genuinely delighted by this unexpected development. “You like him.”
“I don’t —”
“You do.” I bump her shoulder with mine. “And that’s okay. He’s a good man. Loyal to a fault.”
“He tried to kill your husband,” she reminds me.
“And then took a bullet for him.” I shrug. “Complicated relationships are kind of our brand around here.”
Natalie bites her lip, considering. “Do you think he’d… I mean, would Vince allow —”
“Vince doesn’t control who Arkady dates.” I pause. “But he might kill him if he hurts you. So there’s that to consider.”
She laughs, the sound genuinely happy, and I realize how long it’s been since I’ve heard it. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
It’s so perfect, the idea of the two of them together, that I have to forcibly keep myself from grinning like a lunatic. After everything Natalie’s ex put her through—making her a mom and then a single mom in the span of a year so he could go ball out in Vegas with their life savings—she deserves a happy ending as much as anyone.
The music swells inside, drawing our attention back to the celebration. Through the glass doors, I can see Vince dancing with Sofiya in his arms. He holds her out and spins her in gentle circles as she squeals with delight.
“You look happy, Rowan.” Natalie’s voice is soft. “I never thought it was possible, after everything, but you actually look really, truly happy.”
“I am,” I say quietly. “Not always. Not every day. But in the moments that matter?”
I watch my husband tenderly cradling our daughter, and my heart swells with a love so fierce it borders on violence.
“… In the moments that matter, I’m fucking transcendent.”
Natalie smiles, raising her glass. “To moments that matter, then.”
We clink glasses, and I return my gaze to Vince, who has spotted me through the window. His eyes lock on mine, intense and possessive even across the distance. He mouths something I can’t hear but understand perfectly:
Mine.
I nod once, acknowledging the claim, and mouth back:
Always.
Later, as we’re preparing to leave, Vince pulls me into a darkened alcove, his hands instantly finding my ass, gripping hard enough to bruise.
“I want to fuck you right here,” he growls against my throat. “Bend you over that table and make you scream my name while everyone wonders where the bride’s maid of honor disappeared to.”
Heat flares low in my belly, my body responding to him like it always has, like it always will.
“Not here,” I gasp as his fingers go hunting beneath my dress. “Vince, we can’t —”
“We can do whatever the fuck we want.”.
I consider protesting, but why bother? There’s something hot about a man who couldn’t give a single shit less about the rules. And when he wants you bad enough to break every single one of them…
Well, that’s hot, too.
“Take me home first,” I beg. “Take me home and fuck me properly.”
He laughs against my skin. “Patience never was your strong suit, was it, Mrs. Akopov?”
“You’re not exactly Mr. Patient yourself.”
We collect Sofiya, who has fallen asleep in Daniil’s arms, and say our goodbyes.
As we’re leaving, Arkady approaches, looking healthier than I’ve seen him since the shooting. He’s got a slight limp and he takes way too much pleasure in swinging his cane around everywhere like Willy Wonka, but it’s good to see him on his feet again.
“Leaving so soon?” he asks.
“We’ve got business to attend to,” Vince says wickedly.