Chapter 31 *Ten Years Later* The auditorium is packed with parents who look bored and vaguely under duress. I can't blame a single one of them. Since when do eighth-graders have formal graduations? Still, we're here, cheering on our wonderful Anya. She looks back at us excitedly from her place on the floor, waving at Nicole and me, and her little brother Nikolai and her little sister Tatiana. The two kids don't wave back, both staring at their iPads, but Nicole blows her a kiss and pulls out her phone to take even more pictures. She must have taken at least a hundred already today. We arrived early for front-row seats because Nicole insisted we couldn't miss a second. I stare at my son's iPad longingly, wishing it was socially acceptable for me to watch the game on it. After all, Volkov is all the way at the end of the alphabet. The ceremony seems like it lasts an entire decade. But when Anya's name is finally called and we get to watch our daughter step up to the podium, her long chestnut braid swinging behind her as she walks like she owns the place, Nicole and I scream like maniacs for her. She's our eldest, the light of our lives, and we couldn't be prouder. At fourteen, she's valedictorian of her middle-school class, president of the art club, and president of the National Junior Honor Society. She definitely gets her smarts from her mother. And she probably got her love of art from her grandmother. But she's still stubborn and tenacious as ever, and that is all from me. She finds us easily in the crowd as she shakes her principal's hand. She waves at us with a goofy smile on her face, and her mom and I wave back just as forcefully. We're so proud of our girl, we're nearly bursting with it. "When she smiles like that, she looks just like you." I lean over and whisper in Nicole's ear. "That's funny, I was just thinking she looked just like your mother," she retorts. Nikolai leans against my arm, bored as hell and over all the pomp and circumstance. He's only three years younger than Anya and always gets a little jealous when she receives more attention than him. Her eighth-grade graduation is no exception. "Can we get burgers after this?" "Only if you clap loud enough when Anya finishes her speech," I tell him. He sighs, slouching back in his seat with all the dramatics of an eleven-year-old who thinks the world owes him candy for breathing. But then the room goes quiet as Anya steps to the microphone. She clears her throat, lifts her head, and starts speaking. And my heart does that thing it always does when I look at her. It swells with a pride so deep it hurts. I don't hear all the words, but I don't need to. I see the girl standing up there, the one who used to climb into bed with me when thunderstorms scared her, who cried when she accidentally stepped on a ladybug, who once got into a fist fight with a boy in third grade because he made fun of Nikolai for having "a scary dad." She's not just mine. She's her mother's, too. She's a little piece of us both, Nicole's warmth and my fire, and she's everything I didn't know I needed. When the auditorium bursts into applause, I clap too, standing without even realizing it. Outside the school, the sun is high and bright. Summer's just around the corner, and the heat's already creeping in, but I don't mind it today. Our arms are loaded down with flowers and balloons, just waiting to pass them off to Anya. Nicole talks softly with Tatiana, who's already planning her own eighth-grade graduation and making her promise she'll have at least as many flowers and balloons. Nikolai is back on his iPad, playing some kind of game with robots. I watch them all and think about how much has changed in the last fifteen years. Once upon a time, I thought I was the kind of man who didn't deserve any of this. I'd resigned myself to the fact that I would never have a family of my own. I had my mom, my brother, and my business, and that was enough for me. Then a girl who got stood up on a bad date texted the wrong number, and everything changed. What would've happened if she hadn't? God forbid, what if she'd texted the right number and that douchebag decided he'd made a mistake in running away from her? I wouldn't be here now. Hell, I'd probably be dead already, killed by Semion or one of our other adversaries. I wouldn't have this beautiful family celebrating this beautiful day. I wouldn't know the way it feels when three little voices shout "Papa!" the second I walk in the door after a long day. And I wouldn't have the most amazing woman standing at my side, telling me that I'm worth it, that I deserve to have all of it. She changed my life in so many ways with that text, and I'll never be able to thank her bad date enough for ditching her that night. "Hey." Nicole's voice cuts through my thoughts. She's smiling up at me now, eyes crinkled at the corners. "You were off in space," she says, rising to her feet. "Everything okay?" I lean in and press a kiss to her temple, inhaling her intoxicating scent. "Perfect," I murmur. "Everything is perfect." After the hugs, the tears, and what feels like a thousand pictures later, we finally pile into the SUV to head home. Nikolai's got his earbuds in already, Tatiana is asleep with her head on Nicole's shoulder, and Anya is texting her best friend about some post-graduation party. Nicole turns in her seat and catches me watching her again. "You're staring," she says suspiciously. I shrug. "You're beautiful." She blushes, even after all these years, and it makes my heart do this weird flip-flop. "You're biased," she mutters. "But I'm right," I argue. Back home, the backyard is set up for a celebration. Streamers hang from the trees, the grill is smoking, and the scent of fresh bread wafts through the air, thanks to one of my men who insisted on baking something "special for the girl who made it to high school." Family starts trickling in. Mia's the first, with a bouquet nearly as big as Anya herself. Her husband, Pete, slyly slips Anya a card, and I'm sure there's way too much cash inside. Mia and Pete don't have any kids of their own yet, so they dote on ours. Who am I to tell them not to? Sasha arrives next, arm around his new wife, looking as proud of Anya as if she were his own. He's grown into his role over the years, not just as my second but as my enforcer. He handles most of the day-to-day now, leaving me to focus more on the books and less on getting my hands dirty. I trust my brother with my life, my family, and even with the Bratva. The business has changed, softened in some ways, evolved in others. But Sasha and I built something together that's stronger than anything my father ever left me. The best part is, there hasn't been a real threat since Semion. Not one that lasted more than a day, anyway. Anyone who tries knows what we're capable of. And they know that coming after me means coming after my family. Which means I stop playing by the rules. But these days I don't need to be feared as much as I used to. I find that respect works just as well. The sun starts to set, casting golden light across the backyard. Laughter fills the air, and Tatiana is chasing fireflies while Anya opens cards on the patio. Nicole is stretched out beside me on one of the cushioned chairs, her head on my shoulder. "I miss your mom," she says softly. "She would have loved today." "Me too." It's been three years since Mom died, but sometimes it still feels like yesterday. But she got to hold all three of her grandchildren when they were born. She got to walk with me down the aisle at my wedding in Amalfi. She taught Anya art and brought my children endless laughter. We all miss her terribly, but that's just because of how much we loved her and received her love in return. "She would've been so proud of Anya today," Nicole says. "She always was," I remind her. "She adored you too. She always said you brought light to my life." Nicole snorts. "I brought a lot of drama," she retorts. "You gave me a family," I murmur, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You brought me home." We sit in silence for a while, watching our kids play and our family mingle. The lights twinkle on as the sky fades into shades of lavender and navy. I reach for her hand, and she laces our fingers together like it's second nature. I think about how lucky I am. I kiss her knuckles, and she turns to me with a soft smile. "What are you thinking?" she asks. "That if I had to do it all over again, I'd still answer that text." She chuckles. "Even knowing how stubborn I can be?" I grin. "Especially because of that." She leans in, brushing her lips over mine. "I love you." "I love you more." "Nope," she says. "Not possible." I raise an eyebrow. "Wanna bet?" She laughs again, and the sound is the sweetest thing I've ever heard. I pull her into my arms then, sweeping her clean off her chair. She lets out a laugh that melts into a gasp as I crash my mouth to hers, kissing her like it's still the first time. Like it's the hundredth time. Like it's the last time I'll ever get to. Fifteen years, and she still tastes like forever. When I set her down, the kids are watching us in mortification. "Ewwwww!" Tatiana cries. "Get a room!" Nikolai shouts, grinning despite himself. Even Anya, usually the cool one, is shaking her head with an exaggerated sigh, like she's disappointed but not surprised. Nicole laughs against my lips, but I don't let her go just yet. "This isn't over," I murmur against her skin. "When the kids go to bed, I intend to finish what I started." Her eyes sparkle with heat and affection. "I'll be waiting for you," she whispers. I watch as she gets up and goes to mingle in the crowd. She, Mia, Anya, and Sasha's wife, Dahlia, all huddle in a circle, giggling like schoolgirls, and I can't help but wonder what's got them so worked up. Nikolai and Sasha are playing a game on the game console we brought out for the party, and Tatiana is playing tag with her grandpa. My family is safe and they're happy, and that's all I could ever ask for. In a romance-themed observation show, several participants undergo a series of interactions and conflicts filled with love, misunderstandings, and power struggles. In the end, one couple rises to over...