Iwake to the sound of Mila’s steady breathing beside me, her body curled into mine as if seeking shelter even in sleep. Early morning light filters through the curtains, casting her skin in a golden glow that makes my chest tighten with an emotion I’m still learning to name. These quiet moments watching her sleep have become my sanctuary, the peaceful eye within the storm that constantly swirls around us.
My phone vibrates on the nightstand, and I reach for it carefully, not wanting to disturb her. Igor’s name flashes on the screen. Unusual for him to call this early.
“Yes?” I answer, keeping my voice low.
“Family meeting at Nikolai’s estate today. Security briefing disguised as a gathering,” Igor says without preamble. “Noon. Damien’s asking for you.”
The mention of my nephew sends a surge of warmth through me. “I’ll be there.”
“Bring Mila,” he adds, surprising me with the casual acceptance of what’s developed between us. “Katarina wants her there.”
When I end the call, I find Mila watching me with her sleepy gaze that sees too much. “Everything okay?” she asks, her voice husky from sleep.
“We’ve been summoned to a family gathering,” I tell her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. The simple touch sends electricity through my fingertips. “At Nikolai’s.”
She stretches beside me, the sheet slipping to reveal the curve of her breast. The sight makes my body respond instantly, desire pooling low in my belly. “A family gathering?” she repeats, noticing my reaction with a small smile. “That’s…significant.”
“It is.” I trace the line of her collarbone, marveling at how her skin feels beneath my touch—soft, warm, alive. “Are you ready for that?”
Her hand finds mine, fingers intertwining. “I’ve been part of their extended circle for years through Katarina. The question is, are you ready? This is a big step from reluctant ally to family member.”
The observation is shrewd, cutting to the heart of my hesitation. I’ve spent years planning the Bratva’s destruction, months negotiating a fragile truce, and now I’m being invited to break bread with them as if the past can be so easily set aside.
“I’m ready to face them. Having you there gives me an advantage I didn’t expect,” I admit, the honesty still unfamiliar on my tongue.
Her smile deepens, and she rises onto her elbow, pressing her lips to mine in a kiss that starts gentle but quickly ignites into urgency. I grip her hip, pulling her closer, feeling the heat of her body against mine. When we break apart, both breathing harder, I see the desire darkening her eyes.
“We have time before we need to get ready,” she whispers, her hand sliding down my chest, lazily tracing the ridges of my muscles.
I capture her wrist, bringing her fingers to my lips. “Careful,” I warn, my voice rough. “Start something now, and we might never leave this bed.”
“Would that be so terrible?” She shifts, throwing one leg over me and straddling me with confidence that makes my breath catch. The sight of her above me—hair tousled from sleep, gaze dark with desire, body bare and perfect in the morning light—nearly undoes me.
“Terrible? No.” I grip her hips, guiding her against my hardness, watching her eyes flutter closed at the contact. “But your absence would be noted.”
She leans down, her hair creating a curtain around our faces as she captures my mouth again. “Then we’ll have to be quick,” she murmurs against my lips.
I laugh, flipping our positions in one fluid movement that leaves her beneath me, eyes wide with surprise and arousal. “I’m never quick with you,” I tell her, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand. “Not when each sound you make, each expression on your face, is something I want to savor.”
Her body arches beneath mine, seeking contact I deliberately withhold. “Yakov,” she breathes, my name a plea on her lips.
“Patience,milaya,” I whisper, trailing kisses down her throat, feeling her pulse race beneath my lips. “We have this moment. In our world, that’s all anyone can ask for.”
Nikolai’s estatesprawls across several acres, the main house visible from the long driveway as we approach. Security personnel nod respectfully as we pass, a recognition of my new status that still feels strange after being their prisoner. I note theincreased patrols, the subtle bulges of concealed weapons. Even family gatherings require military-level security in our world.
“Nervous?” Mila asks beside me, reaching for me across the console.
I glance at her, taking in the simple elegance of her summer dress, the way the color brings out the warmth in her eyes. “Cautious,” I correct. “This is new territory for all of us.”
The get together is already in progress when we arrive; low conversations and careful laughter drift from the secured gardens where tables are positioned with clear sightlines to all exits. Damien spots me first, his small face lighting up as he breaks away from a game with Lev to race toward us.
“Uncle Yakov!” he calls, excitement making his voice higher than usual. He barrels into me with the unrestrained enthusiasm only children possess, arms wrapping around my waist.
I kneel to his level, my chest expanding painfully at his easy affection. “You’ve grown taller,” I tell him, noting the changes in his face, so much like Ana’s that it steals my breath.
“A whole inch,” he informs me solemnly. “Father measured this morning.”
The mention of Igor brings my gaze up, finding him watching us from across the lawn. His expression is unreadable, but he offers a slight nod, which I return. Progress, of a sort.
