Page 115

Anya yawns widely, fighting sleep as she snuggles deeper into Andrei’s chest. He presses a soft kiss to the top of her head.

I tilt my head up to look at him, and he leans down and kisses me slowly. When he pulls back, I rest my forehead against his and whisper, “I love you.”

Andrei’s hand slides up to cup my cheek, thumb brushing gently across my skin.

“I love you more,” he murmurs, voice low and warm. “Every single day, plamya. You made me the luckiest man alive.”

I smile, eyes stinging with happy tears I don’t bother hiding.

In this moment I realize something so beautiful: This is it. This is my happily ever after.

Epilologue

Rosie

Six Months Later

I turn in the wide leather seat of the private jet and ask for what feels like the hundredth time, “Are you going to tell me where we’re going yet?”

Andrei looks up from his laptop, that infuriatingly sexy smirk tugging at his lips. “It’s a surprise, baby.”

I groan and slump back against the seat. “You know I hate surprises. The suspense is killing me.”

We’ve been in the air for hours. I’ve slept, eaten, and been thoroughly fucked by my husband. Twice. All in an attempt to keep me from pestering him. It worked for a little while. But the moment the orgasm haze faded, I was right back to asking.

I just woke up from another nap, and we’re still flying. I have no idea what direction we’re even heading.

The last six months has been a beautiful, chaotic roller-coaster. Learning how to be the wife of a Pakhan wasn’t easy. Stepping into the role of CFO at one of Andrei’s legitimate billion-dollar companies was even harder. Balancing all of that while being a mother isn’t for the faint hearted.

But I’ve loved every single second of it.

Andrei has been… incredible. Patient when I needed it. He’s an amazing father to Anya. The two of them have grown so close that sometimes I get a little jealous. The moment he walks through the door after work or a trip, Anya’s loud, happy squeals echo through the entire house as she runs to greet him.

When we go out as a family, I’m basically the third wheel, Anya chatting nonstop to her father while he listens like every word she says is the most important thing in the world.

They’re so cute together it makes my heart ache. Andrei pretends to hate it when I call them cute, but I’ve caught him smiling when he thinks I’m not looking.

Anya is at home with Daria for the next three days. The only information my husband has given me about this mysterious trip.

Andrei closes his laptop and leans back, watching me with that intense, heated gaze that still makes my stomach flutter.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he says.

I huff dramatically and reach for the novel I brought with me. I try to focus on the pages, but my eyes keep drooping. Guess I need more sleep.

The last thing I feel before sleep claims me is Andrei’s hand gently brushing my hair away from my face and the soft press of his lips against my temple.

I wake up to the feeling of Andrei’s hands gently fastening my seatbelt around me.

“We’re about to land,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple. I blink sleepily and stretch.

After we land, I head to the bathroom to freshen up. I reapply my lipstick, fix my slightly messy hair, and smooth down my dress before stepping back into the cabin.

The moment we step off the jet and the warm, salty Mediterranean air hits my face, Andrei leans down and whispers against my ear, “Santorini.”

I stop dead in my tracks, eyes widening as I take in the breathtaking view of white-washed buildings cascading down the cliffs under the golden sunset. My heart swells so fast it almost hurts.

“You remembered…” I whisper, turning to him with a bright, teary smile. “I told you once, months ago, that I’d never been and always wanted to come here.”