Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 92160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Ekaterina smiles and extends a hand.
“Anissa. I owe you an apology.”
There’s a sigh in her chest, as if she’s been carrying this moment for too long. Her eyes grow soft—sorrowful—but there’s steel beneath the sadness.
“I believe I owe you all an explanation.”
The words hang heavy in the air, thick as storm clouds.
The room swells with tension as Zoya, always the gentle soul, attempts to soften the sharp edges. “May I bring some tea and refreshments?” she offers, her voice light but tremulous.
Rafail gives a small nod of permission, and I watch her scurry off like a dove trying to calm a battlefield.
I wish she could.
Zoya lays a tray of tea between us, Ekaterina finally speaks.
Her fingers tremble on the delicate cup as she places it back on its saucer.
Her eyes find mine.
“I’ve explained to the Kopolovs, but you’re owed an explanation as well, love. I fear some of this…” her voice catches, but she pushes through, steadying herself, "…is my fault."
My throat tightens.
She swallows and lifts her chin, choosing bravery over shame. “I wanted a daughter," she confesses. “More than anything. My husband resisted for years. Daughters..." She swallows, her voice brittle with old wounds. "They’re not born to rule in our world. Sons secure power. Daughters secure alliances."
Mmm. Indeed. Tell me about it.
Her hands knot together in her lap.
"And then one day, he brought me Polina."
Her gaze softens as it settles on me, a sad smile pulling at her mouth. "A miracle," she whispers. "She was my miracle."
My chest aches.
She presses on. "I didn’t know—I swear to you, I didn’t know—until years later, that she had a sister. That you were separated. No one told me until it was too late."
She blinks back tears, but one escapes, sliding down her cheek.
"The adoption was closed. Sealed. They wanted no contact." Her voice hardens, not with cruelty, but with the pain of helplessness.
Her breath shudders as she releases it.
"I was afraid," she admits, her voice almost too soft to hear. "Afraid of what I would find. Afraid that if I pried too hard, I would lose you both."
For the first time, I see the full measure of her fear.
"I let fear guide my choices," she says, not looking away from me. "And for that, Anissa, I ask your forgiveness."
Ekaterina’s voice trembles but does not falter. "I was wrong."
Silence stretches. Every eye in the room is on me.
"You were afraid," I say quietly. "And I wish things hadn’t happened the way they did, but I don’t believe any of you are the ones to blame, and the ones that are to blame aren’t here anymore.”
I reach for her hand. She clasps mine, her grip tight with unspoken apologies, and something inside me finally, blessedly, begins to ease.
Her voice steadies. "You two are joined now. Sisters. A bond that can’t be broken.” She stares at me and shakes her head. “The similarities are uncanny."
And in this moment, as I sit between my family and my future, I realize something deeper than bloodlines or vengeance.
We are all just trying to survive.
Matvei isn’t smiling right this second, but god, we’ve been through a lot at this point. His parents, exiled. His brother, gone. Almost losing me. His vow to Rafail…
He looks at peace.
The pressure of his hand on my thigh increases slightly. I feel it and lean in closer to him.
Old instincts whisper, run.
But I stay.
I stay and choose what I thought I never could.
I meet his gaze, and he surprises me with a soft, shy smile.
My heart tumbles in my chest and my eyes grow misty. Something about his vulnerability in that smile makes everything slide into place like pieces of a puzzle.
The wine suddenly tastes sweeter, his touch heavier, the room warmer. I feel like my heart expands to twice its size, sitting beside my new family…and the man I love.
Epilogue
ANISSA
Matvei smirks at the scent of burning sage in the air that still lingers.
“What’s that supposed to do?” he whispers. We stand in front of each other in the Kopolov family home, holding hands. We’re forgoing most of the pomp and circumstance around our marriage. It’s time we make this official.
“Sage,” I whisper. “Wards off evil, cleanses, and all that.” I shake my head and smirk back. “Your family needs a damn purification, so it’s one small thing we can do.”
“Ahh,” he says, nodding. It’s a small thing. Witchy, he’d call it. But I need to feel like this isn’t just another Bratva transaction, another ceremony of duty. I need to feel like this means something.
I choose him.
He chooses me.
Matvei’s dressed in a tuxedo, looking hot as hell in the fitted black. He looks like the devil himself come to claim me.
Rawr.
I am so ready.
The Kopolov men flank either side in their dark suits, wearing silent stares. Ekaterina Romanova and Polina stand on either side of them, Polina dressed in elegant gray, holding Rafail’s hand. Ekaterina dressed in silver, her matching silver hair pinned like a crown around her head. She catches my gaze and winks at me as if to say you’ve got this.