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"I've been thinking, Andrei," I begin cautiously, weighing each word. "I want to stay here, in St. Petersburg. I want to oversee this territory personally, make it as great as it can be."
A silence lingers on the other end of the line, and for a moment, I wonder if I've caught my ever-unflappable brother off guard.
"You're serious about this," he finally says.
"Very serious," I confirm. "Valentina and I… we're starting a family. I want my child to grow up here, in a place where I've personally ensured stability and peace. It's not just about business anymore; it's personal."
Andrei sighs, but it's a contented one. "Well, I can't argue with that. Especially if it means you're finally settling down. God knows, it's about time."
I chuckle. "I guess I’ve always been a slow learner."
"You said it, not me," he retorts, a smile evident in his voice. "You're going to be missed, Roman, but I hope you know you're always welcome back home. We'll keep the samovar hot for you.”
"We'll visit often," I assure him. "You won't be able to get rid of us that easily."
"Wouldn't dream of it," he says. "Take care, little brother, and give my regards to Valentina and Ilya."
"I will," I say before hanging up.
As I set the phone down, I find myself enveloped in a moment of deep, contemplative silence. I look out the window once more, my gaze falling on the city that's now mine—a city that, in many ways, has also claimed me.
But it's not just the bricks and mortar that hold me here; it's the life burgeoning within these walls. A life where Valentina and I will raise our child, where we'll navigate the labyrinthine complexities of parenthood together. A life that's as far removed from the violence and chaos of our pasts as it could possibly be.
I find myself thinking about Valentina, about the words we exchanged just a few months ago—words of love, of commitment. And as I prepare to leave my office, eager to return to her, I realize that St. Petersburg isn't just another territory we've conquered; it's the beginning of a whole new chapter.
As I walk away from my desk, my heart feels lighter than it has in years. I leave the door to my office slightly ajar, knowing it's not just a room filled with papers and phone calls. It symbolizes a part of me, a part I can now leave behind each day when I return home to my family. And speaking of home, I can't help but smile as I step into our new living room.
This isn't just a house; it's a sanctuary that I bought for Valentina, Ilya, and our unborn daughter. The thought of having a little lady fills me with a joy so pure, so untainted, it's almost surreal. I can't wait to welcome her into the world, to hold her in my arms, to protect her.
Our home stands in one of St. Petersburg's quieter neighborhoods, a quiet place amid the hustle and bustle of the city. It's a two-story house, elegantly designed with a mix of classic and modern architecture Valentina and I both love. The façade is a warm, earthy tone, blending seamlessly with the greenery of our well-manicured lawn and the mature trees framing the property.
Valentina looks up from the couch, where she's pouring over paint swatches and nursery designs. "You look like you're on cloud nine," she remarks, her eyes gleaming. "What happened?"
I sit beside her, pulling her close. "I've just been talking to Andrei. I told him we're staying in St. Petersburg. He's good with it. More than good, actually."
She smiles, her hand lightly touching her abdomen. "I think we're making the right choice, Roman."
I kiss her forehead. "I know we are. So, what are we thinking for the nursery? Pink or lavender?"
Valentina chuckles. "Why limit ourselves to traditional gender colors? How about a soft, neutral gray? Then we can accessorize with colors as she grows up and develops her own likes and dislikes."
I nod, absolutely smitten by how thoughtful she is. "You're right. She should be free to choose. Gray it is. It's neutral yet elegant."
"We also need to think about baby-proofing this place," Valentina adds. "Our careers don't exactly scream kid-friendly environment."
That makes me laugh, but I know she's serious. Our lives are anything but ordinary, which means our children's safety is even more crucial.
"Right," I agree. "The weapons locker in the study will be upgraded to a biometric lock, only accessible by our fingerprints. Plus, we'll install some cameras and sensors around the house. Nothing too invasive, just enough to alert us if anything is off."
Valentina nods, clearly pleased with my suggestions. "You're going to be a great dad, Roman. Our daughter is lucky to have you."
"I could say the same about her mother," I reply, overwhelmed by a rush of emotions. "We're going to be a great team, Valentina. For her and for Ilya."
She leans in to kiss me, a kiss that isn't just an expression of love but a sealing of a pact, a pledge we are in this journey of parenthood together. It's a profound moment, so simple yet so deeply significant.
We spend the next hour discussing more details—everything from which brand of crib to buy to what kind of stories we want to read to our daughter at night. Each conversation, each decision, builds a future I once thought was out of reach for someone like me. But here it is, within grasp, more vivid and promising than ever.
As I revel in these reflections, the front door bursts open with youthful exuberance. Ilya dashes in, his school bag bouncing on his back, a wide grin on his face. "Papa, can we go to the playground? The new one you made just for me?" He's practically vibrating with excitement, his eyes twinkling. "And can we get ice cream?"
