"I like this house." Mama picks Kir up from the gleaming hardwood floor in the living room and gives him a big, smacking kiss on the cheek. "It's like a smaller version of Gleb's."

"He chose well for us," I hear the sadness vibrating in my voice, "he must have found it after we'd gotten back from Colorado during that time when I hardly saw him."

Mama shifts Kir to her hip and rubs my shoulder with her free hand. "I feel for you, my dear. I know how much you miss him."

"I haven't seen him since Dmitry's funeral last week," I groan, "living without him is agony." And it's true. Waking up alone, going to bed alone, missing him every second. He'd looked thin when I saw him, his high cheekbones even more prominent; I'd wanted to hold him close and never let him go.

"I'll come visit as soon as I can," he'd whispered, lowering his face by my ear as we'd said goodbye. "It will have to be under cover of darkness. I'll let you know beforehand."

Kir and I moved into this place a month ago, twenty-four hours before Gleb left the hospital two weeks after he'd been shot. I'd visited him each morning when I was still living in Fairwood. My vision suddenly blurs; I so wish I could have still been there to welcome him home and take care of him while he recuperated. Olga is doing that; she's stayed on as his housekeeper. She said she didn't want to leave, even after a fire destroyed the kitchen and all evidence of the shoot-out. Gleb gave her free reign in choosing a new design, Mama told me after it had happened. I knew already, he'd asked for my input and I'd pleaded with him to let Olga decide. Dimitry had died trying to protect me, and I probably owe him Kir's and my life.

I buckle Kir into his stroller while Mama fetches our coats. This house is in a peaceful town a bus ride from Fairwood. Mama comes most mornings to help with Kir while I clean and tidy up. Then either we go shopping or to the park.

We exit the front door; I stare up at the house and my mouth droops. Set back on a quiet tree-lined street with a spacious full-fenced back yard, it's unassuming enough. The facade is painted white and there are three bedrooms upstairs together with the main bathroom. There's another bathroom in the basement next to the laundry room. The wood-burning fireplace in the living room, and the attached family room with all-around windows, would have enticed me to pick this place for myself and Kir if I'd had the choice. Except, it doesn't feel like home.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

Strolling alongside Mama, I hug my coat around my body. Fall has well and truly arrived. The nights have drawn in and the days are getting colder. Time is passing, and my baby is growing; he's curious about everything and keen to play and explore. He's so active; he's even started running and I love how he keeps giving me cuddles and kisses. Problem is, I seem to be living my life in limbo while I wait for Gleb to tell me when we can be a proper family. I pull out my phone and check for a message from him.

Nothing.

I'm impatient and it's driving me crazy.

"How's Papa?" I ask Mama to distract myself. "How is the dance studio doing?"

"He misses you, my dear. But he's working really hard. The investment Gleb made in the business, paying for proper advertising and a re-fit, has made all the difference." Mama's eyes glow. "Papa has so many new students he'll soon have to take on more staff."

"Awesome," I say. "And you? Have you gotten over the trauma of what happened at Gleb's?"

She stops pushing Kir's stroller and turns to face me, opening her arms and hugging me. "It was all Vadim's fault. He was a monster and I'm glad he's gone. I'm only sorry Olga had to lose Dmitry. He was a good man."

My heart aching, I agree with her. We carry on with our stroll and soon we arrive at the park.

"Wanna walk," Kir calls out.

"Say, please, sinochek."

"Wanna walk please," he whines, and I bend to unbuckle him.

Autumn leaves whirl in the air, and he chases after them, laughing. I laugh with him and so does Mama. It feels good not to be watched over by a boyevik day and night. At first, I was still terrified, frightened of my own shadow, and even now I keep a lookout for any danger... I can't help it. But Gleb wouldn't let Kir and me live here on our own if he wasn't confident we'd be okay.

He's deliberately kept away from us. Mama is careful and makes sure she isn't followed. We shouldn't be a target.

I look over my shoulder, just to be sure, and blow out a relieved breath; there are only a few people around and none of them appear suspicious. Except, how would I know what counts as suspicious? I cross my arms tightly over my chest.

A large bird swoops down from the tree above us, and I nearly jump out of my skin. Jesus, will there be no end to this paranoia?

The phone vibrates in the pocket of my jeans.

I reach for it.

Gleb.

I'll be with you at around eight this evening, he messages, and my heart freaking leaps.

A wide grin spreads across my face.

"Good news?" Mama winks.

I hug her. "The best."

Kir has taken forever to settle; he must have picked up on my excitement. Eventually, he fell asleep and I've had a bath, shaving every inch of my body before washing and drying my hair. I'm waiting in the living room by the crackling log fire, memories of the first time Gleb and I made love sending my pulse racing. He'd made me beg for him, and I'd swallowed my pride and had done so. I knew then it was doubtful our story would have a happily-ever-after ending. Can I let myself hope for one now?

The doorbell chimes. "Kiska?" Gleb's baritone voice gives me tickles inside; I open the door to him.

I'm enveloped in his strong arms, his nose pressing on the top of my head as he breathes me in. He tilts my chin up and melds his mouth to mine. My breath catches, and I slide my tongue along his bottom lip, feeling him harden against my belly. I arch up on the tips of my toes, kissing him deeper.

"God, Elousha. Ya lyublyu tebya. Ya skuchal po tebe," he groans.

"I love you and I've missed you too, Gleb." My arms loop around his neck as he pulls me against him.

Our heads switch sides, our tongues dancing, our lips sliding. The chemistry burning between us crackles like electricity.

We cling to each other, breathless, stumbling then stabilizing. My hands clutch at his hair, tugging; his fingernails dig into my hips, yanking me closer.

He sucks my tongue, biting down as I fuse my leg to his, wedging myself against his hardness.

I want to crawl into him.

He grips me tighter, marching me backwards, kissing me until my spine presses against the wall. He thrusts his pelvis and my teeth nip at his mouth, my tongue desperate for more.

Our kiss has become frantic and so fucking hot. Except, without warning, he breaks away and holds me at arm's length.

"Can I see Kir?" he rasps.

"Of course," I smile at his impatience, take his hand and lead him upstairs.

We stand by our son's bed, watching him sleep, his little chest rising and falling with each breath, my old teddy at his side.

Gleb bends and kisses his forehead, then pulls the comforter up to tuck it under his chin.

"We need to talk, Elousha," he whispers.

I take down to the living room, offer him something to drink... which he declines. "How are you feeling?" I sit next to him on the sofa and trace my finger down his sunken cheek.

"All the better for seeing you." He threads his fingers through mine and plants a kiss on the inside of my wrist. "It will take up to a year for me to be fully recovered, but Dr. Hughes says I'm making excellent progress."

I cuddle into him, my heart filling with relief and absolute unconditional love. "That's good." I snuggle deeper. "What have you been doing since you got out of hospital?"

"Clearing up the mess left by Vadim." Gleb plays with my hair. "Yuri has carried out most of the work as I'm not physically up to it yet. There's still a lot that needs to be done. The Feds have been sniffing around as well."

"God, I hope that won't mean trouble for you," I gasp.

He places a finger under my chin, lifting my face so he can stare hard into my eyes. "Don’t worry. I've bribed the right people." Gleb seems to be choosing his words carefully. "I'm going to Moscow next week," he adds.

"Why?" My insides flutter. "Won't that be dangerous?"

"I'm meeting my friend, the one I told you about. He can't talk to me over the phone; I need to speak with him in person." Gleb's tone is serious. "I think he might be able to shed some light on Natasha."

Sudden dread grips me. "I don't want you to go. They murder people in Russia, no questions asked."

"Only way I can get guarantees you and my boy will be safe." Gleb holds my arms and heat drenches his eyes, turning the dark blue into electric indigo. "I'd kill myself to protect you."

Hot tears wet my cheeks. "Please, don't let that happen."

He snorts out a bitter laugh. "I'll try not to, but, seriously, you and Kir are the most important people in my life. I've been working hard to sort out a future for us."

"What kind of future?"

"I'm thinking of relocating to Colorado after I've wound up my businesses in Fairwood." He strokes my arm. "I wanted to run it by you first." Before I can say a word, he adds, "I'll set your parents up in Denver. I know you wouldn't want to separate Kir from them."

I grasp the sides of his beard and kiss him, hard. "Will it be safe there?" I tilt my head.

"I'll make damn sure that it is," he growls, pulling me toward him and kissing away my tears. "You, me and Kir belong together, end of story."

I lift his sweater and run my hands up his strong stomach muscles to trace the line of the scar from his wound. I lower my head and kiss it, the ridges hard against the softness of my lips. I was convinced it was getting shot that made Gleb take the sudden decision to leave organized crime, but now I can finally let myself believe his feelings for Kir and me have played the major part. "I love you," I whisper against his warm skin. "Don't you dare get yourself killed in Russia."

"I said I'd try not to," his voice rumbles through his chest.

I look up at him.

This man.

This incredible man.

No longer the Beast, but my soulmate.

Prepared to give up the Vory life for me and our son.

"Make love to me, Gleb."

And he does.