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She turns to me, her eyes shimmering in the dim light. “Quite the evening,” she teases.
I smirk, moving closer. "Yes, it has been, Tsarina. Back in the ring after so long, and still undefeated."
Ana chuckles, playfully shoving me. "Always the charmer, aren't you, Samuil?"
"I learn from the best." My voice drops an octave, and I pull her close, my hands finding the curve of her waist. She meets my gaze, her eyes alight with mischief and desire.
There's no need for words. The space between us closes, and our lips meet in a searing kiss. It's all fire and passion, a heady mix of the love we've always shared and the heightened emotions of the night.
The journey from the living room to our bedroom is a blur of discarded clothing and hungry kisses. We've been together for years, but the electricity, the sheer intensity of our connection, has never waned.
The world narrows to the feel of her skin against mine, the way her body arches into my touch, the soft, breathless sounds she makes. There's a rhythm to us, a dance of passion and love that's become second nature. It's fierce, tender, all-consuming—a perfect storm of emotions.
Afterwards, as we lie entwined in our bed, the New York skyline casting its glow into our room, I marvel at our journey. From Moscow to New York, from Bratva battles to the birth of our child, through poisonings and proposals, we've remained unbreakable.
I pull her closer, whispering words of love into her ear, grateful for every moment we've shared and every moment yet to come.
Epilogue II
ANASTASIA
Years have passed since our tumultuous first days in New York, and the sprawling mansion in Westchester stands as a testament to our journey. We bought it as our personal escape, our countryside estate. It reminds me of grand Russian dachas. When the city feels too close and suffocating, this place is our sanctuary.
Setting the massive oak dining table with the finest China, a young, familiar voice reaches my ears from the living room, "????, ? ????? ????." (Mama, I love you.)
I grin, leaning against the doorway. There's Niko, my determined boy, bearing my jet-black hair and his father's deep brown eyes, practicing his Russian. It's crucial he keeps that bond to our heritage. His grandmother, Sandra, gleams with pride at him, every syllable he utters.
"???????, ??? ???????!" (Excellent, my boy!) she claps, her joy infectious.
Niko spins around, spotting me. "??m?, did I say it right?"
"Perfectly, my love," I assure him, my chest bursting with pride. He dashes to me, his arms encircling my waist.
The room gradually fills with our boisterous, loving family. Andrei, now more silver-haired, animatedly talks with Viktor,both men's vodka glasses swinging with their passionate gestures. Our familial bond is still ironclad after all these years.
Samuil, every bit the proud family head, ensures everyone is comfortable and provided for. Our gazes lock occasionally, words unspoken but sentiments understood.
As the evening unfolds, Niko is the main attraction. His tales of school, sprinkled with Russian phrases, elicit laughter and admiration.
A moment to ourselves, Samuil and I step onto the balcony. The setting sun casts a gold shimmer, transforming our gardens into a realm from a fairy tale.
“We’ve crafted this place in our image,” he observes, his voice tinted with amusement.
I chuckle. “After what we spent renovating, I'd certainly hope so.”
His eyes are mischievous. “Only the best for my queen, right?”
We watch the celebrations, content. Then, the conversation shifts.
“Speaking of the best,” he begins, and I sense what's coming. “The Bratva's stronghold in New York is unassailable. We’ve marked our territory.”
I reflect on the challenges, the late night negotiations, the alliances formed in shadowy corners. “Smaller players folded. The big fish? They understood crossing us wasn't an option.”
Samuil's eyes gleam. "The message was clear. We’re here, and we demand respect."
"Our risks, our sacrifices," I muse, "It's all paying off."
In the midst of our fervent discussion, Andrei's form darkens the doorway. His voice is playful, but the intent is obvious. “Really? Business talk, here and now?”
