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“He enjoyed his torture.”
Roman pulls me to his side. “Yes, and now he’s gone. So let us celebrate this reunion.”
“First, my darling girl. I want you to have this.” He pulls out a small photo and gives it to me. “I’ve had this for nineteen years.” It’s a picture of my mother smiling with him as he holds me in his arms.
“Oh my goodness.” I cry again as a world of emotions hits me. “It’s beautiful.”
“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“I’m just so happy.” I cling to Roman who stares at the photo in awe. I truly look like a mix of both of them. I have his eyes and hair, the rest of my mother’s features.
Although, I take a closer look at the picture, and there’s something off about her expression. It doesn’t look happy like I thought. It reminds me of the times Olga got away with hitting me and she was gloating. Maybe it’s just the photo, and I’m making too much out of it.
“I know this is asking a lot, but I hope I can stay in your life, Katya.”
I look to Roman, knowing how delicate these wars and alliances can be and hope he says yes. “Don’t look to me, my beautiful wife. Whatever makes you happy will please me.”
Smiling, I kiss his cheek and then throw my arms around my real father who wholeheartedly welcomes the embrace.
“After all, our children will need at least one grandparent.”
“Are you?” my father asks.
“Am I what?” I ask, looking at him confused.
“You must forgive her. She did after all live in a cottage with little to no human interaction.” I swat him and he says, “I’m teasing, but he’s asking if you’re already pregnant.”
I blush, knowing the answer, and both sets of eyes are staring at me in awe.
“Yes. I found out this morning.” Roman whisks me up in the air, twirling me around.
“I’m going to be a grandfather.” He falls back in the chair behind him and places his hand over his mouth.
“Do you not have any other children?” I questioned. It would be nice to have siblings like the girls have.
His shoulders slump “No. When you were taken, I was too afraid to start a new family and lose a child. Instead, I built the empire with a fire no one could put out, and I ruled over it while my brothers had children.”
“Well, there are a lot of eligible ladies out there,” I say.
“I’m too old for them.”
A knock at the door interrupts our conversation. “Come in.”
“Katya, I hope you haven’t ruined your dress. We still have to take pictures,” Mariska storms into the office and halts as my father stands tall.
“Mariska, I’d like you to meet my real father, Aleksandr Sidorov.” Her mouth hasn’t closed yet.
“Too old… hmmm…” I muttered to Roman.
“Hello, dark enchantress.” I think my father still has it.
“We’re just going to greet our guests and get ready for pictures. Can you show my father around please?”
She only nods unable to speak, eyes dazed.
Chapter Twelve
Roman
