Page 150 of The Last Hope

I had to be the worst husband in the world to make my wife cry this much.

“You’ve got that same look you used to get when you smacked me on the back so I’d stop crying before Mom came in,” Sienna chuckled weakly, and just like that, the room softened.

“You cried over everything, you little brat,” Selina replied, finally smiling.

And just like that tension melted from my chest.

Sienna laughed again and gripped Selina’s hand to sit up. I helped her as Roman returned with the glass.

“I added sugar,” he said, eyes worried, “thanks,” she murmured, sipping.

“It’s me who should be sorry, Selina. I… I’ll tell you everything. Just give me a little more time, okay?”

Selina nodded and pulled her into a hug, eyes meeting mine over her sister’s shoulder.

I smiled softly and brushed away one of her tears.

Yes. It was time we all took a vacation.

Selina

The sand was warm beneath my toes as I dug them in, watching the waves gently roll across the shore. The weather in the Philippines was glorious—even after sunset, the air remained soft and balmy.

I smiled when strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me against a firm, heated chest.

“Want to go for another walk?” my husband murmured, pressing a kiss to my neck.

It had been nearly two weeks since we’d left for our honeymoon, and three days since we arrived in the Philippines. Tomorrow, the rest of the family would be joining us to spend a few days of vacation together. I missed the boys terribly. Even though we video-called at least twice a day, every single day, the longing was unbearable.

This trip would be good for them—to help them finally move past what had happened with Agata a month ago. We had waited a few weeks to make sure the boys felt safe before leaving forour honeymoon. Honestly, I hadn’t wanted to go, not when they were still so shaken. But Elif and Sienna had practically shoved me out the door.

Actually, no—they had literally thrown me out. Most of my things had already been packed in suitcases in the trunk of the car, and they had pushed me outside before slamming the door in my face.

“No, I’d rather enjoy our last evening alone with my husband,” I replied, turning in his arms and wrapping mine around his neck.

“Hmm, is that so?” he murmured, his hand sliding beneath my skirt to grip my thigh, making me jump before bursting into laughter.

“Yes.”

“My wife’s requests are my commands,” he declared before scooping me into his arms and carrying me toward our cabana as I laughed even harder. His eyes gleamed with happiness.

“Mama! Papa!” the twins and Rafael shouted excitedly the next morning from the boat approaching the shore, waving with all their might. I jumped up and down, waving back at them while Nikolai chuckled beside me, his arm wrapped securely around my waist, preventing me from throwing myself into the water to reach them.

The two small boats finally cut their engines. Roman was the first to jump off, wading through the water up to his knees with Andrei on his back. He then helped Rafael, Alexei, Mikhail, and finally Nina down.

Since the events of a month ago, Nina had been living with us, and as I expected, I had come to see her as another sister—just like Elif. She was kindness personified, endlessly patient and so understanding it felt almost surreal. And the boys adored her. They had told us how she had stepped between them and Agatawhen things had turned violent, how she had shielded them even when her own mother struck her with a cane. I think I spent the entire following week thanking her and sitting by her side as she recovered from her injuries.

From the second boat, Grigori was the first to jump, carrying his two sons in his arms. Sasha followed, helping Elif down and finally, my sister, determined to climb down on her own, turned her back to him. But when she struggled, Sasha simply grabbed her thighs and lifted her onto his shoulder in a seated position. She shrieked in protest while he grinned, unbothered.

I ran toward my boys, ignoring the scorching sand beneath my feet, too overwhelmed with joy to care. “Oh, my babies !” I cried, pulling my three little ones into my arms, tears welling up despite myself. Nikolai embraced his brothers tightly.

“We missed you so much,” I whispered, straightening to pull Mikhail into my arms as well. He had been standing slightly behind the others, waiting patiently for his turn.

“You look beautiful, Mama,” he said, kissing my cheek before wrapping his arms around me.

“Oh, my angel, you’ve grown even taller,” I smiled as the rest of the family joined us.

The following days became some of the most precious of my life—water sports with the kids, sunbathing with the girls, family dinners on the beach under the moon, and the countless intimate moments shared with Nikolai. His touch, his kisses, his gaze—I wouldn’t change a single thing about what we had lived together.

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