Page 134 of Single Mom's Daddies
“She’s mine. Ours.”
Max doesn’t respond for a moment. Just takes a sip and stares into the fireplace that isn’t lit. “Didn’t think you’d crack.”
“I didn’t crack,” I say softly. “I just decided to live.”
He grunts again, quieter this time.
The lounge is quiet except for the faint hum of air through the vents and the soft clink of ice against glass. The shadows shift slightly across the floor as the house dims for the night—automatic timers, low security lighting. Peaceful in a way that still makes us suspicious by instinct.
I lean my head back against the leather and close my eyes. “It feels different now.”
“What does?”
“This house. Everything.” I glance at him. “I can’t remember the last time I walked the perimeter and didn’t feel like I was prepping for an ambush. Last night, I walked the grounds and thought…maybe we made it.”
Max looks at me, deadpan. “You said that out loud?”
“I did.”
“You jinxed us,” he mutters. “You goddamn idiot.”
I grin. “Yeah. Probably.”
There’s a knock at the door. Roman steps inside, holding a thin, flat package under his arm.
“This just came,” he says, handing it to me. “Delivered by courier.”
My pulse picks up.
I tear the packaging open, revealing a canvas wrapped in protective sheeting.
Another painting.
The Svet signature is in the corner, unmistakable.
I peel the cover back and immediately groan. Loud.
Four neon orange blobs.
Floating. Pointless. Angry-looking. Surrounded by the trademark blue-and-gold filigree.
“It’s a thank-you,” Roman says, totally serious.
“It’shideous.”
“I think it’s supposed to be us,” he adds. “You, me, Victor, and…that one’s probably Max.”
Max leans over, squints. “Why am I the one that looks like a hemorrhoid?”
I shake my head. “Because she knows you.”
Still, I hang the damn thing. In the lounge, right above the bar. This house has survived more than it should. So have we. And for once, I don’t feel like we’re waiting for the next war.
EPILOGUE
SAFFRON
It’s beentwo months since Ivy’s surgery, and every time I look at her now, I feel like I can breathe again. Not shallow, not braced-for-impact breath. A whole breath. The kind that fills your chest like sunlight.
