The knock on my office door interrupts my review of the latest liquidation reports. I look up to find Maksim standing in the doorway, but instead of his usual all-business demeanor, he’s wearing an expression I recognize, the one he gets when he’s about to tell me something I need to hear but probably don’t want to.
“Come in,” I say, setting aside the financial projections that have been consuming my afternoon.
He closes the door behind him and takes the chair across from my desk but doesn’t immediately speak. The silence stretches long enough that I lean back in my chair and wait him out.
“You need to talk to Sabrina,” he finally says.
“About what specifically? We talk every day.”
He rolls his eyes. “About what you’re planning. The exit strategy, the succession…everything.” He gestures toward the papers scattered across my desk. “She’s getting ready to have a serious conversation with you about your future, and she deserves to know you’re already three steps ahead of her.”
Something cold settles in my stomach. “What do you mean she’s getting ready?”
“I overheard part of a phone conversation she was having with her friend. She’s planning to ask you to leave the organization completely.” He pauses. “And if you’re not willing, she’s prepared to walk away and raise your daughter alone.”
The words stun me. The idea of Sabrina leaving, of raising our child without me, makes my chest constrict with something close to panic. “She said that?”
“She’s scared of bringing a child into a world where violence is always lurking around the corner. She wants commitment—not co-parenting arrangements, but an actual future together. ‘Marriage, family, and growing old together,’ to quote her.”
I stare at the ultrasound photo on my desk, thinking about the conversation we’ve been avoiding for weeks. “You think I should tell her about the plans we’ve been making?”
“I think she deserves to know the man she’s falling in love with is already choosing her and Elizabeth over everything else.” He leans forward. “Don’t make her issue ultimatums when you could just give her the answers she needs.”
His words settles over me as I consider what he’s suggesting. Sabrina has been growing more comfortable here, more open, but I still see the tension she carries when she thinks I’m not looking, and the way she sometimes pauses before speaking, like she’s choosing her words carefully to avoid conflict. “Where is she now?”
“Sunroom. She’s been organizing baby clothes all afternoon.”
I stand and straighten my shirt, suddenly nervous in a way I haven’t felt since I was a teenager working up the courage to ask a girl to dance. “How much detail should I give her?”
“Enough to convince her that you’re serious about walking away from this life completely. She doesn’t need to know about every financial transfer or legal document, but she needs to understand you’re already committed to the choice she’s hoping you’ll make.”
I nod, gathering my thoughts as I head for the door. “Maksim? Thank you.”
“Just don’t fuck it up,” he says with a smile.
I find Sabrina exactly where Maksim said she’d be, surrounded by neat piles of baby clothes in every conceivable size and color. She’s holding a tiny white dress with delicate lace trim, and the sight of her imagining our daughter wearing it makes my chest ache with tenderness.
“Planning our child’s entire wardrobe?” I ask from the doorway.
She looks up with a smile that transforms her entire face. “Just organizing what we already have. We might have gone a little overboard at the boutique.”
“I don’t think it’s possible to go overboard when it comes to our daughter.” The easy way the possessive pronoun slips out surprises me. Sabrina must notice it too because her smile relaxes into something warmer.
“Come sit with me,” she says, patting the couch beside her.
I settle next to her, close enough that our thighs touch, and pick up a pair of impossibly small socks. “How is it possible that feet can be this tiny?”
“I know. Sometimes I can’t believe there’s actually a whole person growing inside me.” She rests her hand on the curve of her belly. “A person we made together.”
The wonder in her voice makes me turn to study her profile. There’s something different about her today, like a sense of purpose or determination I haven’t seen before. It occurs to me Maksim was right about the conversation she’s planning to have. “Sabrina, there’s something I need to tell you.”
She sets down the dress and turns to face me fully, her expression becoming serious. “Actually, there’s something I need to tell you too. Something important.”
“You first,” I say, though every instinct tells me to take control of this conversation before it goes somewhere I can’t navigate.
She takes a breath, gathering her thoughts, and I can see her steeling herself for whatever she’s about to say. “I’ve been thinking a lot about our future, what kind of life I want for our daughter, and what I need to feel safe building that life with you.”
The careful way she phrases it tells me she’s rehearsed this and thought through every word. I force myself to remain still and let her speak, even though part of me wants to interrupt and give her the answers she’s seeking.
“I love you,” she says simply, and the words are sweet and daunting at the same time. “I’m in love with you, completely and probably foolishly, but there it is. I love you, and I want to build a real life together. Not just co-parenting or keeping things civil for the baby’s sake, but everything together.”
My heart pounds as I process what she’s telling me. She loves me. After everything I’ve put her through, everything I’ve dragged her into, she’s choosing to love me anyway.
“But,” she continues, and I hear the determination in her voice, “I need to know you’re willing to leave your business behind. Completely. Not delegate more but actually walk away from all of it.”
The condition doesn’t surprise me, but hearing it spoken aloud makes it real in a way it hasn’t been before. “If I’m not willing?”
Pain flickers across her face, but her voice remains steady. “Then I’ll raise our daughter alone, and you can be the kind of father who sees her if it’s safe to do so.”
The thought of weekend visits and carefully scheduled time with my own child makes something violent and desperate claw at my chest. “You’d really walk away from this? From us?”
“I’d have to.” Her eyes fill with tears, but she doesn’t let them fall. “I won’t raise my child in a world where violence is always lurking around the corner, and every knock at the door could be a threat. She deserves better than that. We both do.”
The raw honesty in her voice undoes me completely. She’s not issuing an ultimatum or trying to manipulate me into compliance. She’s simply telling me what she needs to feel safe and trusting me to decide whether I can give it to her. “What if I told you I’ve already made that choice?”
She blinks, clearly not expecting that response. “What do you mean?”
I reach for her hands, needing the physical connection as I prepare to lay my entire future at her feet. “For the past few weeks, I’ve been systematically dismantling everything I’ve built by transitioning to legitimate businesses when possible, transferring territory, liquidating assets, and setting up succession plans that will let me walk away completely.”
“You have?”
“Maksim is taking over everything. The transition will be complete within a year, and after that, I’ll have no connection to any of it.” I bring her hands to my lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I’m done, Sabrina. I chose you and our daughter the moment I saw her on that ultrasound screen.”
The tears she’s been holding back finally spill over, and she launches herself into my arms with a force that nearly knocks me backward. I catch her against my chest, holding her tightly while she cries into my shoulder.
“I can’t believe you were already planning this,” she says between sobs. “I was so scared you’d say no.”
“Never.” I stroke her hair, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo. “I’ve never wanted anything the way I want this life with you.”
She pulls back to look at me, her face streaked with tears but radiant with something that looks like joy. “You really mean it? You’re really walking away from all of it?”
“I really mean it. No more syndicate, no more territory wars, and no more violence. Just us and our daughter and whatever normal life we can build together.”
“I love you so much,” she whispers, framing my face with her hands. “I love you so much it terrifies me.”
“Don’t be terrified.” I lean my forehead against hers, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what’s happening between us. “Be happy, excited… Anything but terrified.”
“I am happy. I’m so happy I can barely breathe.”
When she kisses me, it’s with all the love and hope and desperate longing that’s been building between us since that first night. Her mouth is soft and warm and tastes like the future we’re finally free to claim.
I should pull away and suggest we continue this conversation to make sure we’ve covered all the practical details that need to be discussed. Instead, when she tangles her fingers in my hair and makes that soft sound of need against my lips, rational thought abandons me entirely.
“Sabrina,” I say against her mouth, her name coming out like a prayer.
“Nikandr,” she whispers back, “Show me what forever looks like.”
The request undoes me completely. I lift her carefully and carry her to our bedroom, mindful of the precious life she’s carrying but desperate to claim her as completely as she’s claiming me.
I set her down beside the bed and take my time undressing her, revealing the body that’s become more beautiful with each passing day of her pregnancy. When I trace my hands over the gentle curve of her belly where our daughter grows, something possessive and protective surges through me.
“You’re perfect,” I say, pressing kisses along the column of her throat. “Absolutely perfect.”
She pulls my shirt over my head with trembling hands, mapping the planes of my chest like she’s memorizing every detail.
I help her out of the soft dress she’s wearing, revealing the body that’s haunted my dreams for weeks. Every curve is lusher, and when I lean down to trace my tongue along the sensitive spot just below her ear, she gasps and presses closer.
I capture her mouth in another kiss, deeper this time, letting her taste the promise of forever. When I find the edge of her panties and slip beneath the silk to touch her, she’s already wet and wanting.
“You’re so ready for me,” I marvel, pressing my forehead against hers as she rocks her pussy against my hand.
“I’m always ready for you. I think I have been since the first moment I saw you.” She flushes with the admission.
I take my time removing her panties, pressing kisses to her inner thighs as I work my way higher. Her skin is impossibly soft, and she trembles under every touch of my lips. When I reach her slit, I pause to look up at her. “Let me worship you,” I say, meaning every word. “Let me show you how much you mean to me.”
She moans and arches her hips in silent acquiescence.
When I finally taste her, she cries out and thrusts upward to meet my mouth. She’s sweet and intoxicating, and I lose myself completely in the sounds she makes as I explore every sensitive fold with my tongue. Her clit is swollen and sensitive, fluttering each time I gently swipe my tongue across it.
“Nikandr, please—” She gasps, fisting her hands in my hair.
I slide one finger inside her while continuing to work her clit with my mouth, and she practically comes apart beneath me. Her walls are tight and hot around my finger, and when I add a second, she rocks against my hand desperately.
“I’m so close. Please don’t stop.”
I curve my fingers inside her, finding the spot that makes her back arch, and work it relentlessly while my tongue continues to stroke her clit. When her orgasm hits, she shouts my name as her whole body convulses with pleasure.
I work her through it gently, pressing soft kisses to her inner thighs while she comes back down to earth. “Beautiful,” I murmur against her skin. “So beautiful when you come for me.”
She reaches for me with shaking hands, helping me out of my remaining clothes. When she wraps her fingers around my shaft, I groan and have to grab her wrist to maintain control.
“Your hands are going to kill me,” I say, letting my head fall back as she strokes me slowly.
“Good,” she says with a wicked smile. “I want you as desperate as you made me.”
“I am. I need to be inside you.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” she asks, lying back against the pillows in invitation.
I position myself carefully between her thighs, hyper-aware of her pregnancy and the need to be gentle despite the fire burning through my veins. I grasp the base to guide in my shaft. When the head of my cock brushes against her entrance, we both shudder at the contact. “Are you ready?”
“I’ve been ready since you told me you chose us.” She reaches down to guide me inside her.
When I push into her slowly, she makes a sound of pure satisfaction that goes straight to my soul. Her pussy is so tight and hot and perfect that I have to stop moving entirely to keep from coming immediately. I brace myself on my forearms above her, struggling for control. “You feel incredible.”
She lifts her hips experimentally, taking me deeper, and the movement sends shockwaves through both of us. “So good…”
I start to move slowly, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. She meets every thrust with enthusiasm, her breasts bouncing with each movement. I can’t resist leaning down to capture one nipple in my mouth.
“Yes.” She arches into me. “Just like that.”
I increase the pace gradually, building a rhythm that has her clinging to me desperately. Every thrust brings us closer together, not just physically but emotionally, like we’re finally acknowledging what’s been building between us all along. The sound of our bodies coming together fills the room, along with her moans and my harsh breathing.
“Touch yourself.” My voice comes out rough with desire.
She slides her hand between us, finding her clit, and her walls flutter around me as she works herself. “That’s it.” I change my angle to hit that spot inside her that makes her cry out. “Let me feel you come.”
She presses harder on her clit and throws back her head, tensing her whole body. Her pussy clamps around me as she comes, coaxing me to come, and with a shout of relief, I let go, spilling myself inside her.
Afterward, we lie tangled together, her head tucked beneath my jaw. What’s just happened settles over us. It’s not just the physical joining, but the emotional commitment we’ve finally made to each other that fills the space between us. “I love you.” The words come easier now, like they’ve been waiting for this moment to finally be spoken. “I love you so much it scares me.”
She tilts her head to look at me, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Don’t be scared. This is the best thing that’s ever happened to either of us.”
“Even though I kidnapped you?” Shame fills me at the question. I thought she was Irina, and I’m glad she wasn’t. I can’t bring myself to regret taking her though.
“Maybe because you kidnapped me.” She laughs softly. “If you hadn’t, we never would have met. Our daughter never would have existed. Sometimes, the most beautiful things come from the most unlikely beginnings.”
I stroke her hair, marveling at how right this feels. “No more secrets between us. No more holding back.”
“No more secrets.” She presses a kiss to my chest, directly over my heart. “Just us and our family and whatever comes next.”
“What comes next is a new house. Somewhere with no history and no associations with my old life. Somewhere we can start fresh.”
“I’d like that, and I have been looking at the listings you’ve sent me. None have really screamed ‘this is it’ yet though.” Her voice is growing drowsy, the emotional intensity of the afternoon finally catching up with her. “I want somewhere with a big yard for her to play in. Maybe a garden where we can grow vegetables.”
“Whatever you want. A garden, a swing set, six dogs, and a white picket fence if that’s what makes you happy.”
She laughs sleepily. “I never thought I was a white picket fence kind of girl.”
“You’re whatever kind of girl you want to be. That’s the point of starting over.”
