“Hope,” Valerian repeats in his Russian accent. “Can I hold her?”
My heart leaps out of my chest, love spreading its magic throughout my entire body, bringing warmth to all parts of it.
I hand over our daughter. She looks tiny in his hands. Muscles work under his shirt as he handles her, cradling our daughter close to his chest.
I never thought a man this big was capable of being so gentle. He’s exactly how I pictured him in my imagination with Hope, holding her delicately, like the entire world is resting in his hands.
He glances at me, smiling, this one different to his usual. This smile feels like the sun rising in the morning, darkness parting to let something warmer through.
Suddenly, my senses are heightened. The next gust of wind to blow through the lobby leaves me hopeful for this next chapter. I feel the warmth on my skin, taste the pollen on my tongue.
Seeing Valerian hold Hope casts all other emotions out of the window, leaving only one remaining.
Love.
But as time passes, the love expands to other areas of my body, ones I don’t feel like registering with Igor and a newborn baby present.
I clench my thighs together, watching them. Valerian’s eyes are a soft blue color, different from the icy shade they were when we first met.
I’m sure he’ll be able to turn that side back on when we’re alone in the bedroom. After ten months of distance, my body needs to be flung around his bedroom.
I need his cock opening me up, brushing against my walls. Seeing him isn’t enough. My body needs to feel his presence. Then I’ll know all of this is real.
I map out his features, noting the defined cheekbones, the strong nose and jaw, which is relaxed. Appearance wise, not much has changed. He still makes my clit tingle wearing those three-piece suits, looking like he’s dressed for dinner, not to fake his own death.
But he looks different, more rejuvenated, like he finally found a way to let go of the stress and relax.
Valerian looks back up at me, and I instantly shatter into millions of pieces, ones only he can put back together. The last ten months has taught me that he fixes me better than I can fix myself.
I catch Igor looking from afar, his face soft, like he finally accepted his father’s love for me.
“I’ll give you guys some alone time,” he says, walking out into the courtyard where Galina is hanging out laundry, stealing glances inside.
“You owe me an explanation.” I fold my arms over my chest, fighting to keep my voice level.
Valerian takes a step back to look at me, rocking our daughter back to sleep. “I faked my death.”
“Thanks for stating the obvious.”
“I’m still leading the Sokolov Bratva, that will never change. But I needed to step down and make way for other things to enter my life…”
“You sold the real estate business?”
“No, Igor and Niko will take over the main operations. I’ll still be involved, keeping an eye on things, making sure you and Hope are protected. The Bratva will always live inside of me. These tattoos,” says Valerian, rolling up his sleeves, “stay on my skin as a reminder of who I am, and who I will always be. But the Bratva is only one part of my identity." Valerian stares deep into my eyes. “If you let me in, I won’t let you down. Giving up has never been in my blood.” A smirk crawls onto Valerian’s face again. “I’ll always fight for what I believe in.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “You faked your own death, staged yourfuneral,just so I’d walk back into your life?”
“You’ve always been stubborn,printsessa.” Valerian winks. “I had to dosomethingto get my wife back.”
I frown. “But the entire world thinks you’re dead.”
“Good. Maybe people actually might start leaving me alone.”
“That’s only possible if you spend the rest of your life living under a rock.”
“Or moving out of town.” He looks at me pointedly. “I want to raise our daughter the right way, Joy.” He hands Hope back to me, using his hands to explain what sounds like a very well thought-through plan. “I want to be present for Hope. See her first steps, hear her first word. I didn’t experience any of that with Igor. I want us to experience it together, away from the city, somewhere quiet. The desert, perhaps.”
“Thedesert?”