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“They’ll be okay,” she answered.
“It’s hard enough that they’re meeting their daughter’s scary mafia boyfriend. Even harder to find out I’ve been paying their bills,” he pointed out.
“I know, you’re scared they’re gonna freak out that I got knocked up by a Bratva guy,” Kira said plainly.
He said in a solemn voice, “I’m not scared. I just want to do this right. I love you, Kira. You’re it for me. Your family is my family. I need them to believe that I’m not a threat to you or to them. Iwillprotect you.Allof you. So, do you think we should protect your parents from this information or not? What you say goes.”
Kira beamed at him adoringly. “Thank you. I love you, too. And I get that you’re just looking out for them. But I know my parents better than anyone. They worry about me, but at the end of the day, they trust my judgment. They raised me to be independent and responsible. My mom and dad know I don’t make rash decisions, and I haven’t brought a boy home since tenth grade, so they know this is serious,” she said, giggling.
Luka squeezed her hand and she continued, “I’ve already told them how important you are to me, how you’ve taken care of me and shown me nothing but love. Itwillbe hard to explain why you’re paying for things instead of me. There’s no point telling them about the whole kidnapping thing now. Maybe someday. But for now, I’m going to tell them about how you saved me from a mugging outside of Cal’s Corner, and that’s why I quit the diner.”
“And therefore are relying on me for support,” Luka finished for her.
“Exactly.” She nodded. “You’ll be their hero. You’re already mine.”
After what had happened in Crystal Springs, Kira’s perspective on the Bratva had made a monumental shift. She had seen the diligence and care with which Luka’s comrades handled the situation. Ivan and Vadim had driven the other girls back to Vegas, where they’d all converged at the private practice of a mafia-appointed doctor. They’d guarded the girls’ hospital rooms while Luka’s trainee enforcers had guarded Cal’s room. Luckily, the young women had been barely injured and felt much better after recovering from being drugged. Cal’s recovery had taken longer, but he was now up and walking around. With the agreement to serve as an informer for the Sokolov Bratva, he was looking forward to working at his diner once again.
After that night, the news of her romance with Luka had spread swiftly through the mafia ranks. She knew it would be a long road to earning trust from Luka’s superiors, but so far they had graciously accepted her into the extended family. After all, she had already joined the organization tangentially when Katja had recruited her for the Shining Star.
The men Luka worked with were surprised that Luka had found the time, energy, and opportunity to fall in love and be loved in return. But they saw echoes of his father in him. Damir had cherished his beloved wife, Revekka, until her untimely death. Kira wished she could have met Luka’s parents, especially Revekka. Luka always spoke of her so fondly. He made himself hard to read, but she could tell how much he missed her.
Seeing his pain, Kira felt even more grateful to still have her own parents—for her own sake, of course, but also for Luka and their future children together.
“We’re here,” she said as they pulled into the driveway. “Home sweet home.”
Her parents’ place was a narrow, white-stucco townhouse with a terracotta roof. There was a one-car garage and some sparse desert landscaping decorated with artistic touches Kira’s mother, Sonja, had made years ago.
“Nice place,” Luka said, coming around to open Kira’s door.
She took his hand and stepped out onto the familiar driveway. “Yeah. Lots of good memories here,” she replied dreamily.
The front door creaked open and Kira’s father squinted out into the sunshine with a big smile on his face. He was a tall, lean man in his sixties with wispy white hair and extremely thick bifocal glasses. He waved to the couple and called out, “That you, kiddo?”
“It’s us, Dad!” Kira called back, tugging Luka along as she almost skipped up the front step. “Happy Father’s Day!”
She bounded into her father’s arms and he hugged her tight, laughing as he reached out to shake Luka’s hand around her.
“Very good to meet you, Luka. My daughter has told me crazy stories about you,” Stepan chuckled, his pale blue eyes sparkling.
“Good-crazy,” Kira clarified quickly, turning back to Luka.
“I’m honored to meet you, sir,” he said warmly.
“Come on in, you two! Settle down in the living room there and I’ll run upstairs to get Sonja. She’s been resting this morning so she’d have more energy to catch up with you,” Stepan explained, leading them down the short hallway into the living room.
“Dad, let me help you with Mom,” Kira offered. She followed him toward the staircase, but he waved her off with a smile.
“No need, sweetheart. I may not see very well anymore, but I could climb these stairs with a blindfold. I can handle your mother,” he assured her. “We’ll be right down.”
Kira traipsed back over to Luka with a sigh. “There’s that stubborn pride,” she whispered.
“I recognize it well,” Luka agreed softly. “He must have worked very hard to get where he is, though. Not easy for a man like that to ask for help.”
His green eyes flicked up to the array of family photos on the mantel. He pointed to a grainy photograph of their tiny bungalow in Russia. Kira was a happy toddler bundled up in a hot-pink snowsuit, hugging a teddy bear. Her parents stood on either side of her, not smiling. They looked solemn and exhausted.
“I don’t even remember it,” Kira said. “Not really.”
“Look at the difference,” Luka said, pointing to another photograph of the family.
