Page 79 of Tattooed Heart

“I know. But I was thinking about something else you said.” I pause, gathering my thoughts. “You said you never had anything worth fighting for before. Just things worth dying for.”

His grip on my hand tightens. “I remember.”

“This,” I gesture around us with my free hand, “is worth fighting for. Living for.”

For a moment, Dimitri doesn’t speak. He watches Angelina across the courtyard, spinning in circles with her arms outstretched, making her butterfly wings catch the light. He watches Maxim and Sasha playing knights and princesses underthe ancient oak tree. He looks down at our son, sleeping peacefully despite the music and laughter around us.

“Yes,” he says finally, his voice rough with emotion. “It is.”

The string quartet transitions into a softer melody, and I recognize the piece. It is the same song that played at our wedding. Talia had cried happy tears, Aleksandr had given a surprisingly emotional toast, and the children had thrown flower petals with more enthusiasm than accuracy.

But the moment I remember most clearly is when the officiant asked Dimitri to speak his vows. He set aside the paper he'd prepared and looked into my eyes with an intensity that made my knees weak.

“Sandy,” he said, his accent thick with emotion, “you taught me that there is something stronger than fear, more powerful than revenge. You taught me love. And I promise you, on my life, my honor, and everything I am that I will spend the rest of my days proving worthy of the gift you've given me.”

There wasn’t a dry eye in the garden that day.

Now, sitting here with our son and watching our family celebrate, I feel the same overwhelming sense of completeness that filled me during our wedding ceremony. We built something beautiful from the ashes of violence and trauma.

A commotion near the cake table caught my attention. Angelina apparently decided that the three-tiered masterpiece needed her personal inspection. She stands on her tiptoes, reaching toward a sugar butterfly perched on the edge of the second tier

“Careful,printsessa,” Aleksandr warns, scooping her up before she can topple the entire creation. She giggles as he lifts her to eye level with the butterfly.

“It's pretty like Mama's dress,” she observes solemnly.

Talia looks radiant in a flowing lavender gown that perfectly complements her daughter’s outfit. She let her hair fall in soft waves around her shoulders, and motherhood has given her a glow that makes her even more beautiful.

It is still hard to believe sometimes that we both found our way to this life. Two girls who had nothing, who clung to each other through the worst the foster system had to offer, now surrounded by luxury and love and safety. We each found our place in the Avilov family. But, more importantly, we found partners who understood that our bond is unbreakable.

“Sis, can you help me with something?”

I look up to find Talia approaching, a knowing smile on her face.

“Of course. What do you need?”

“Would you mind holding Mikhail for a moment, Dimitri?” Talia asks sweetly. “I need to borrow your wife.”

Dimitri raises an eyebrow but carefully takes our son from my arms. Mikhail stirs slightly but settles immediately against his father's chest. The sight of them together, my dangerous, powerful husband cradling our tiny son with such gentleness, never fails to make my heart skip.

Talia links her arm through mine and guides me toward the house. “How are you feeling? Really?”

“Happy,” I say without hesitation. “Tired, but happy. Why?”

She glances around to make sure we aren’t overheard. “You've been looking a little pale lately. And I noticed you barely touched your champagne earlier.”

I stop walking. “What are you getting at?”

She turns to face me fully, her expression a blend of excitement and concern. “When was your last period?”

The question hits me like a lightning bolt. I open my mouth to answer, then close it as I think about it.When was my last period?Between caring for Mikhail, adjusting to life with Dimitri, and the general chaos of our daily routine, I stopped paying attention to such details.

“I'm not sure,” I admit. “Maybe six weeks ago? Seven?”

Talia's smile grows wider. “Sis, I think you might be pregnant again.”

The world seems to tilt slightly.Pregnant? So soon after Mikhail?We haven’t been trying, but we certainly haven’t prevented anything from happening. We’ve been focused on each other and our family.

“I could be wrong,” Talia continues quickly, seeing my shocked expression. “But you have that look. The same one you had when you were carrying Mikhail.”

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