Chapter 198 Chapter 198 History
“Any advice for me?” Liam laughs nervously.
We stand just outside the massive double French doors leading into the party. Music spills faintly through them, along with laughter and the low hum of too many powerful people gathered in one place.
Mason has the kids somewhere inside already. He wanted to talk to Constantine about boxing lessons. I still don’t know how I feel about my son learning violence that young, even if every man in his life seems determined to turn him into a weapon.
“I’ll tell you the same thing Illia Sr. told me before I walked into this room for the first time.”
Liam turns fully toward me, giving me his complete attention.
Honestly, I don’t know why he’s so nervous. This man deals with screaming stadiums, reporters shoving microphones in his face, millions of fans watching his every move. Compared to that, this should be easy.
“Breathe.”
“That’s it?” he asks incredulously.
I laugh softly and smooth out the front of his suit.
God, he looks good.
The dark fabric hugs every inch of him perfectly. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, powerful thighs. I can already picture peeling it off him later tonight. Nothing should look that good on a man.
A shiver runs through me.
“Just think,” I murmur, adjusting his tie, “after this, the dress comes off.”
“De puta madre,” he groans under his breath, grinning instantly.
His arm snakes around my lower back, pulling me flush against him.
I love when he speaks Spanish to me, even when it hurts a little. It reminds me too much of Nick sometimes. The one perfect man death stole from me. I warned Liam early on never to call me mi amor. That phrase belongs to a ghost I still can’t fully bury.
French, English, Spanish—he can say anything else he wants.
Just not that.
“Watch yourself with my sister,” Dimitri says as he appears behind us.
“Dimitri!” I gag dramatically. “Do not ever call me that again. That’s disgusting. Oh my God, I’m going to be sick.”
Liam looks between us immediately, confused.
There is still so much he doesn’t know.
“We used to…” Dimitri trails off with a wicked grin before winking at Liam. “You don’t even know what you’ve got in your hands.”
He exhales dramatically like he’s remembering something. A whole lot of something that transpired between him and I and his brother.
“Go find your wife, General,” I say, shoving him away before he can keep talking.
The doors open behind us, saving me from having to explain my chaotic history.
I know I owe Liam that conversation eventually.
He walked into this relationship blind.
He knows the Elena I became—the art curator, the devoted mother, the woman who carefully rebuilt herself after heartbreak. He knows the softer version of me. The calmer one.
Not the girl I used to be.
Not fully.
As we step inside, Liam’s hand tightens against mine.
The ballroom glows gold beneath crystal chandeliers. Summer breeze moving past sheer red curtains. Women glitter in couture gowns and enough diamonds to blind someone. Men in custom suits stand around with drinks in their hands and danger in their eyes.
I lean closer to Liam as we walk.
“Dimitri is Ivan’s brother. Same age, like Catori and Katia. Different mothers.” I point subtly toward the large table by the bar. “That entire table is brothers. Ten of them. All different moms.”
Liam blinks slowly.
I keep going before he can recover.
“The table next to them? Their mothers.”
His eyebrows climb higher.
“And over there,” I continue quietly, “the Romanovs. Vladimira in the green dress is Constantine’s birth mother. Her father is Kiril Romanov. Another boss.”
Liam swallows hard as I casually point out various crime families around the room like I’m introducing him to coworkers at a company retreat.
“This is fucking insane,” he mutters under his breath.
I laugh.
“It gets worse.”
We finally reach my father’s table, taking the empty seats beside Mason.
The second Liam sits down, Katia springs out of her chair and climbs directly into his lap, shoving her tablet into his face.
“Look what I drew!”
I glance toward Ivan automatically.
His expression hardens instantly watching his daughter drape herself all over another man.
Good.
I hope it burns.
Then, Yulia appears. She irritates me still.
Her hands slide slowly over Ivan’s shoulders before she settles herself right into his lap like she belongs there. His eyes never leave mine while she touches him.
Sal suddenly blocks my view, grinning wide enough to show both dimples.
“Game tomorrow after your run?” he asks, leaning on the back of Constantine’s chair. “Your new man can’t play.”
I narrow my eyes immediately.
Jax appears beside him like a demon summoned from hell.
“Nah,” he says. “Elena shouldn’t play either. I bet she’s better.”
“I am not better than someone who plays football professionally,” I say dryly.
Liam looks between all of us suspiciously.
“Your lady here plays a mean game of football, the Devil,” Jax says proudly, adjusting himself all too obvious. “The San Diego Devils offered her a contract right out of high school.”
“Don’t be gross around the children,” I snap as his gaze drops dramatically toward his crotch.
Liam grips my hand beneath the table.
Jax walks off making pig noises while Sal nearly chokes laughing.
“They’re like the world’s most annoying older brothers,” I mutter. “I’m sorry. How are you holding up?”
Liam exhales deeply, grinding his teeth before looking at me.
“I’m uncomfortable,” he admits honestly. “I feel like I don’t know anything about you. You all have these inside jokes and history I’m not part of.”
Then his expression softens completely.
“But I’m still here because I love you.”
The words hit me so hard my chest aches.
There they are.
The words we have both been carefully dancing around for two months now.
Warmth floods through me instantly.
I brush my fingers along his jaw softly.
“I love you too,” I whisper.
Mason drapes his arm lazily over the back of my chair.
“Please tell me you didn’t bring Liam here without giving him the full history lesson,” he laughs.
Liam looks directly at him.
“I’m not worried about her past,” he says calmly.
Then his hand tightens around mine.
“I’m here for her future.”
Across the table, my father slowly nods with approval, mouthing one word under his breath.
“Damn.”