Page 222 of The Lazarov Bratva

“Alena, don’t you dare talk yourself down,” August remarks. “I am so proud of you.”

Her cheeks turn pink, and she nods.

“This actually leads directly on to my next point of business.” I clasp my hands together. “Alena and I will be working together as a team. The only reason she isn’t up giving this speech is because she gave birth last week, and I’m sure not a single man at this table has any idea what that’s like. Alena’s word carries the same weight as my own, if not more. Together, we will be doing everything in our power to repair the cracks and heal the Family from the dark path Aleksander and Mara took it down.”

“I will be working closely with August,” Alena adds, “to ensure that the Families back in Russia no longer feel abandoned by those of us in the States, and I’ll be setting up an envoy so that everyone feels more connected. I will also be setting up a fund to aid the families of every man and woman we lost in this terrible war. These people signed on the line of loyalty but didn’t deserve to die for a disloyal Pakhan. Their Families are our Families, and we will take care of them.”

Murmurs of agreement and pride skitter around the table, and more smiles face me than before.

“I have one final promise.”

Silence falls, and Alena’s hand moves to squeeze the back of my thigh comfortingly.

“Nothing and no one will ever threaten my Family again, but when we get back out there in the world, we have to make things clear. The Russians are back and strong, and our desire for peace isn’t a show of weakness. We will crush anyone who threatens either my personal Family or the Families of anyone at this table. Some will see peace as a sign of weakness, but Seamus and I can attest that it takes strength. I’m not afraid to knock those in line who seek to bring trouble. It will be a hard road, but we will walk it together.”

As proud cheers and cries rise up from the table, mingling with excitement that things are finally starting to look up, August stands and his large hand settles on my shoulder.

“It’s about time we had a Pakhan with a head on his shoulders. On both your shoulders,” August praises, glancing between the two of us.

Despite it all, my attention is wholly on Alena—hers is the only approval I need. She smiles warmly up at me, and my heart lifts.

We will do good things. Together.

38

ALENA

“Happy Birthday, Tatiana!”

The cry rises up from all the friends and Family gathered around the pool as August, ever the grandfatherly figure, scoops Tatiana up into the air and sets her down across his broad shoulders. She squeals with laughter, clapping her small hands together with one fist closed tightly around some brightly colored wrapping paper.

Her first birthday party is in full swing, and our entire home is filled with light and love.

I stand in the doorway, cup in hand, and observe as my dream birthday party pours with delight around me. It had been one of my many promises to myself—that Tatiana would get everything I ever missed out on, and having a birthday party filled with people who love and adore her was top of that list.

Over the past year, August has become a permanent grandfather figure to Tatiana, and in many ways, a fatherly figure to me. He walked me down the aisle at my wedding to Kristof, and that cemented him in my heart as the father I never had.

Balloons drift around the large garden attached to glittering string that locks them down to fence posts and the backs of chairs. Katja lingers near the buffet table, laughing heartily with her brother, Alexei. Seamus took over the barbeque as soon as he arrived with his wife and some of his people, and they grouped together, creating another hubbub of laughter and warmth. His own children play by the pool, and with excited screams, chase after the family dog as she tears through the party chasing the glittering reflections across the patio.

Taking a final drink, cheers and screams rise up as the dog makes a U-turn and dives into the pool, knocking Andrev off his inflatable raft and sending the contents of his cocktail up into the air.

I couldn’t hold in my laughter even if I wanted to. Music plays, the sun bakes down, and my home is full of life.

Turning with my empty cup, I hurry back inside and find Kristof huddled up near the microwave with his head tilted into his phone. Knowing better than to disturb him on work calls, I slide past him to set my cup in the sink. Then, I approach the freezer and pull out more bags of ice. We’ll be cutting the cake soon, and I want to make sure everyone has a nice, chilled drink in hand.

Kristof turns to me and smiles, but I frown and pout slightly.

“No work on Tatiana’s birthday!” I scold in a hushed whisper.

“Yes, thank you,” Kristof says to his phone, then he hangs up and smiles widely. “I know. I promise it wasn’t work.”

Not believing him, I turn my back and focus on scooping the ice into the crusher to make snow cones for the children.

“I promise it wasn’t.” Kristof slides up behind me and wraps his arms around my body with both palms resting flat over my abdomen—one flesh and one cool metal. “It was your OBGYN confirming your appointment for Thursday.”

“Hush!” Abandoning the ice, I spin in his arms and press my chilled fingertips to his lips. “That’s supposed to be a secret. We’ve only known a few weeks!”

“I know,” Kristof hums, kissing each fingertip in turn. “But I can’t contain myself. My beautiful, stunning, sexy wife is carrying my second child. How am I supposed to keep that quiet? I missed out on so much last time. I don’t want to miss a second of it this time.”

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