Page 153 of Secret Heir

After the ceremony, we handle the paperwork to officially change Daniel’s name. Daniel Mitchell becomes Daniel Sokolov and watching my son sign his new name for the first time makes me cry.

“Look, Mama!” He holds up the document proudly. “I’m Daniel Sokolov now. For real!”

For the next week, he tells everyone who will listen. The mailman. The grocery store clerk. His teacher. His friends at school.

“I’m Daniel Sokolov. That’s my Papa’s name. We’re a real family now.”

Every time he says it, I see Maksim’s face soften with pride and love.

Life has settled into something I never thought possible. We live in our beautiful house in Westchester, far enough from the Bratva world to feel normal but close enough that Nikolai can visit when he wants. Daniel is doing amazing. He’s doing incredibly well at school. His teacher says he’s at the top of his class in reading, and his math skills are improving. He’s a natural leader on the playground. He has friends now with Colton and Charlotte and there’s another boy named Jake who’s slowly infiltrating their group due to his and Daniel’s love of pirates.

He still has nightmares occasionally. I’ll wake to his screams and find him sitting up in bed, trembling and crying about not being able to breathe, but they’re getting less frequent.

Maksim is devoted to us in ways that surprise me sometimes. He picks Daniel up from school every single day. He helps with homework every evening and reads bedtime stories even when he’s exhausted from meetings or business calls.

And with me, he’s attentive in ways I didn’t know men could be. He rubs my swollen feet without being asked and helps me get comfortable at night when my huge belly makes sleeping impossible. He talks to the baby through my stomach, switching between English and Russian, telling our unborn child about their big brother and their family and how loved they already are.

He’s all I ever wanted in a husband and father of my children.

We host a dinner party on a beautiful evening to celebrate our marriage.

The weather is perfect with a gentle breeze carrying the scent of roses from the garden. We’ve invited the Brennans and the Santoros—families connected through business. It’s a complicated web of relationships that took me weeks to fully understand, and sometimes I’m not sure if I’ve gotten it.

Cillian Brennan arrives first with his wife Valentina and their daughter Nora. Cillian is tall and imposing with red hair and cold blue eyes that remind me he’s every bit as dangerous as Maksim and Nikolai. Valentina is his opposite in coloring with almost-black hair, dark eyes, and olive skin, but she’s equally formidable. She was born a Santoro, and the way she carries herself makes it clear she hasn’t forgotten her roots even though she’s now a Brennan.

Nora is just learning to walk, wobbling on unsteady legs, with fine bright blonde hair that surprises me every time I see her because neither parent is blonde. She’s dressed in a pink dress with flowers, and she giggles when Daniel crouches down to say hello.

Leo Santoro arrives minutes later with his wife Emma and their daughter Seraphina. Leo looks like Valentina, which makes sense considering they’re siblings.

Emma is Cillian’s cousin, a Brennan by birth who married into the Santoro family—apparently it was quite the scandal, Maksim hasn’t told me the entire details yet. She’s petite with red hair and green eyes, and she has a fire to her that becomes apparent within minutes of meeting her.

“Finally!” Emma says, breezing into the house like she owns it. “We’ve been trying to schedule this for weeks but someone”—she shoots a look at her husband—“kept having ‘urgent business’ that couldn’t wait.”

“It was urgent,” Leo says mildly, but there’s amusement in his dark eyes as he gazes fondly at his wife.

“Bah. Everything is urgent with you. The world could be ending and you’d still insist on one more meeting.”

Seraphina runs past her parents into the house, all boundless nearly three-year-old energy. She has her father’s dark curls, but her mother’s fierce personality is already evident.

“Seraphina Santoro, you do not run in other people’s houses!” Emma calls after her.

“She’s fine,” I assure her, laughing. “Let her play.”

“See?” Seraphina yells from somewhere deeper in the house. “I win!”

Emma sighs dramatically and shakes her head. “She’s going to be the death of me. Leo, your daughter is out of control.”

“She’s your daughter when she’s being difficult,” Leo says, deadpan.

“Can I take them outside?” Daniel asks eagerly. “I’ll watch them. I promise.”

“Of course,” I tell him.

“Be careful with them,” Maksim tells Daniel. “Seraphina and Nora are very little. You will need to be responsible for them.”

“I will Papa,” Daniel says solemnly.

“And stay where we can see you from the window,” I add in.