“Who’s that?” I ask as we settle at a tiny table with steaming mugs of coffee and sweet buns, each with fruit and some kind of cheese in the middle. “Are these Danishes?”
“Not quite.Vatrushka,” Matvei says as he takes a large bite out of the little cheesecake studded with blueberries. “And she is the owner of the bakery. One of many I've invested in that were struggling but are now poised to make a positive impact in the area. I helped them buy the building. Now they have three locations. All legitimate.” He nudges my hand with his, inviting me to taste.
I take a bite, the warmth melting the sweetened cheese, a wonderful contrast against the tart blueberries and the pillowy-soft bread.
“This is so good,” I groan, closing my eyes to focus on the taste. When I open them again, Matvei is smiling at me.
Families laugh at nearby tables. A little boy drags his mother to the pastry case to point at a cake. The air is filled with the warmth of people and the hum of conversation, sweetened with baked goods and coffee.
I search Matvei's face. “Why show me this?”
He looks at me like he’s seeing me for the first time, weighing what to share. “I want you to see what we're building. Not just what we're running from.”
After we finish the delectable treat, we drive deeper into the city, to a neighborhood where the paint peels from houses and children play on cracked asphalt. He pulls up to a large building that doesn’t appear to belong. It’s newer, with fresh white walls and a mural of hands reaching toward the sun. As we walk in, a woman at the desk greets Matvei with a handshake.
He introduces me as his partner. The word sends a ripple through me—unexpected but not unwelcome.
Inside, teenagers shoot hoops in a gym, a classroom buzzes with creative training, and a group of elders play chess in the sunlit rec room. Matvei leads me through, pointing out the library and the kitchen where families pick up free meal kits.
“We started funding this two years ago,” he says. “Before that, this block had nothing. Now kids have somewhere safe to go and food to eat.”
I pause to watch a girl help a younger boy with his drawing. “This…” I trail off, emotion rising in my chest. “This is yours?”
“Ours,” he corrects quietly. “My father left a mess. I want better. For them. For our family.”
I turn to him, eyes searching. “Why?”
Matvei leans against the wall watching the kids, his face shadowed by memory. “When I was a boy, I thought power meant control. Fear. Money. But all that… it's nothing more than a cage. You can't sleep. Can't trust anyone. It grew too heavy, and I realized I wanted something clean. And then you came into my life.” He pauses and tilts his head to catch my gaze. He holds it, emotion in his voice. “You, and now the twins. I want a life I don't have to hide from. For you. For our children. I want them to grow up feeling safe. Proud of their name, not ashamed of it.”
His words hang between us, raw and honest. I reach for his hand, my fingers trembling. “Matvei, I've been so scared of what loving you means. But this, this matters. It matters a lot.”
He squeezes my hand, his thumb tracing slow circles on my skin. “I know I can't erase the past, but I can choose the future. We can choose it together.”
I let the truth settle inside me—the weight and warmth of it, the terror and the hope. I think of the long nights I've lain awake, fearing the shadow that follows Matvei, fearing that loving him would drag me under in the darkness that is his world.
I remember the promise of his arms around me, the way he whisperszolotseagainst my hair, the fragile dreams we've only just begun to shape.
For the first time, I see the man behind the myth—not a villain, not a savior, just a man trying to build something that lasts. For us. For our children. My heart aches with the complexity of loving him, but I realize love isn't about safety or certainty—it's about choosing, every day, to believe in the possibility of more.
I stand in the sunlight slanting through the front doors and turn to face him. He's watching me, wary but hopeful.
“I want this,” I say. My voice shakes, but I hold his gaze. “Not just the safety or the future—I want you. Even if it's hard. Even if I'm scared sometimes. I want to try.”
For a heartbeat, he doesn't move. Then he steps closer, folding me into his arms. He presses a kiss to my temple, his breath shaky against my skin. “We'll build it. I promise.”
We drive home in a peaceful silence, our hands intertwined on the console. As the city lights blur past, the world feels different—brighter, edged with hope.
At the house, he helps me out of the car, his touch lingering, gentle.
Inside, he makes tea, pouring each of us a cup, the warmth grounding. We sit together, side by side, not needing words. I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heart while the fire crackles in the fireplace.
I know there are battles ahead—old enemies, old fears—but today, I let hope settle in my bones. I choose Matvei, with all his shadows and his surprising light. I choose our future, fragile as it may be but bright as a sunrise.
As I close my eyes, I promise myself I won't run. Not from him, not from what we could become. I'm ready to build something real—together.
25
SONYA