Page 54 of Mafia Christmas Vows

Her mother is ecstatic. It is also clear to me that her father has rediscovered some kind of connection with her, as I had them on the video call and I could see the glances he sent her way.

I’m not sure how to handle that, but I’m sure that Maggie and I will work it out upon their arrival.

I do not need her father’s permission to give Maggie the gift I wish to give her. I technically already have it, as we have been married for weeks now.

However, I know that it would matter to Maggie to have her mother here for the holiday.

And thus.

They will arrive.

The weather, for once, is cooperating. There will not even be a chance of snow to ruin the surprise that I have planned.

Everything, finally, is perfect.

Maggie follows me down the hallway to my mother’s room. This, too, is part of the plan.

But it is the part that I am most nervous about.

She lingers outside of the door.

I turn.

“Alexei,” she whispers, her eyes wide as she takes in the room. “Look, we don’t have to…”

“Please,” I murmur. “Come in.”

Meekly, she follows.

Inside, I gesture to the furniture, asking her to pull one side of the sheet on the covered item nearest to us. Slowly, we pull each one off, coughing as dust swirls through the air.

I pile the large canvas sheets in a corner, then look around the room.

My heart catches in my throat. It’s exactly as I left it.

Even her vanity still has her jewelry box out on it.

I walk nearer, my fingers itching to touch the necklaces in there. To smell the perfume bottle that still holds something of her scent.

I turn.

Maggie is looking at me. I can tell she wants to ask me questions, but I shake my head.

This, too, is something that I want to give her.

“My mother died when I was a teenager,” I declare. It’s the easiest way to say it, and while I know she is already aware, it’s still the easiest place to begin.

“I lived with her, here, in Orlov House. My father lived here too, but he was often away on business. Our time at Orlov House was… fun. Elena was here, as was much of the rest of the staff. The village, the house, the grounds… they were my playground,” I murmur.

Maggie nods, her lips tilting into a smile. “You really were a little prince.”

I snort. “In the sense that I was spoiled, yes. My mother was a good mother, she ensured that I had a bit of humility. However, it was awfully hard for the staff to not treat me like I was a prince. Which made me into somewhat of a tyrant, I warrant,” I laugh.

She shakes her head. “I’m certain you were just an average kid, Alexei.”

“You’ll have to ask Elena, but I highly doubt it,” I mutter.

Maggie rolls her eyes, but I pull her close, tugging her down onto one of the comfortable couches. I swear, I can still smell my mother on the fabric, and it makes my chest ache.

---