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But maybe this was always who Sergei truly was beneath all the violence; a man who simply wanted someone to love enough to finally stop fighting.
He proposed me after fucking my brains out on a private yacht he’d bought for me.
Spoiler alert: I said yes.
“You wanted to fuck on a boat.” Sergei reminded me casually while pounding into me like a madman. “I’m a man of my words.”
I might’ve cried ugly in his arms and he just held me closer, wiping every tear from my face with impossible gentleness while kissing my cheeks over and over again.
“So brave.” He murmured softly against my skin. “So. Fucking. Beautiful.” He chanted the words like a mantra, as if loving me was still the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.
I blinked in confusion as Sergei dropped to his knees in front of me while I sat naked at the edge, still trying to catch my breath.
“What are you doing?” I laughed weakly.
He ignored me completely, rummaging through the discarded pile of his clothes before pulling out a small black box.
My heart nearly stopped. “Sergei…”
He opened it slowly. And my eyes widened so much they genuinely hurt.
A flawless twenty-carat oval diamond sat at the centre, so clear and brilliant it caught light like frozen glass.
Surrounding it were delicate green stones, deep emeralds encircling the white diamond like they were placed there solely to mirror my eyes.
The band itself was surprisingly thin, elegant despite the absurd size of the ring, lined with tiny diamonds that glittered every time he touched my hand.
“Sergei…” I whispered when he slid it onto my finger. His gaze never left my face.
“W-what? You don’t like it?”
I let out a startled laugh. “Are you kidding me? It is beautiful.” I whisper.
But it wasn’t until later that night, curled against him in bed, that I noticed the engraving hidden inside the band.
Property of Sergei Zaytsev.
I stared at the words for a long moment before snorting softly to myself.
"Romantic.” I muttered.
Sergei glanced up from where he was reading beside me. “You liked it.”
“I did not say that.” “You’re smiling.”
Unfortunately for me, he was right.
EPILOGUE-TWO
Sergei
“Leave my son alone.”
I bark the moment I walk into the living room.
Roman doesn’t even glance in my direction. He’s sprawled on the carpet doing push-ups with Kian sitting proudly on his back like a tiny king overseeing his kingdom.
Every time Roman lowers himself, Kian giggles uncontrollably, tiny hands gripping his shoulders as though this is the greatest form of entertainment ever created.
