Epilogue: Roman

Chapter 26 – Julia

There was a flutter in my chest that prompted a smile on my lips as I laid our baby girl in her cradle.

I had two reasons to be glad today: the arrival of our child and the fact that for the first time in forever, Roman had actually smiled at me.

The look on his face when he carried the baby in his arms was priceless—I'd never seen that much sparkle in his eyes before. Never.

All through the drive home, he'd been nice and smiley with me, asking if I was feeling alright. This gesture had warmed my heart, and I almost shed tears at his genuine concern.

I couldn't have guessed the sudden switch in his attitude—at least not this quickly—and now I was wondering what had changed. Not that I was complaining, but it came as a shock. A pleasant shock.

Hold on, does that mean Aida was right when she said he wasn't as bad as I thought he was?

What was he up to?

My heart was racing with anticipation, and it felt like there were butterflies in my stomach.

He'd been watching me by the door as I put our girl to sleep, and each time I glanced over my shoulder, I'd see him smiling. Just a minute ago, he'd said he'd be waiting down in the living room, that we needed to talk.

Once I was done putting the baby to sleep, I heaved a sigh, a broad grin spreading across my face. Within the next few seconds, I watched the cutest little thing in the world, laying in her cradle, her tiny eyes shut.

I rose to my feet and carefully walked out of the room, closing the door behind me. With a sharp exhale, I glided over the staircase where I saw him sitting alone, elbows resting on his knees, his face cupped in his palms.

Roman seemed tensed up about something—his foot tapping against the floor in an absentminded motion.

I descended the steps, my gaze fixed on him, wondering what exactly was going on and why he seemed disturbed.

He lifted his head, and the moment we locked eyes, I couldn't stop my lips from curling into a smile. A faint one appeared on his face as he rose to his feet, acknowledging my presence.

“Hi,” I said, my voice dropping to a gentle murmur, a finger pushing my hair to the back of my ear.

I avoided his piercing gaze, my eyes darting to the floor as I heard his approaching footsteps. My heart pounded in my chest as anxiety washed over me.

He halted in front of me, his cologne enveloping the space around me. “Am I that horrible that you can't look me in the eyes?” he asked in a soft, quiet breath.

I fidgeted with the hem of my dress, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. My neck seemed to suddenly weigh a ton as I struggled to raise my head, my shoulders tensing. Finally, I bit my lip, releasing it slowly as I managed to jerk my head.

My eyes bore into his in a moment of awkward silence, and in their depths, I saw a glimpse of pain. It was subtle, but I saw it.

“Are you okay?” I asked, letting my emotions take the wheel, my gaze unwavering.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You were right.” The words escaped his lips in a hushed sigh.

My brows arched at this shocking confession that piqued my interest and amplified my curiosity. “I'm sorry, what?”

He rubbed his eyes, letting out a soft exhale. “I didn't….” He paused, as if choking on the next words. “I didn't want to believe that my uncle was capable of breaking the rules the way that he did.” Roman lowered his head, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

His words stole my breath, and I stood frozen, watching him struggle with the weight of this confession. I was relieved that he'd finally believed me. But the memories of the trauma I had to suffer kept flashing in my head, misting my eyes.

“He never should have gone after your parents—never should have gone after Emily Clarkson.” Roman's voice sank into a whisper, his tone laced with pain and hurt.

My chest heaved slowly as I blinked back my tears, wondering who the woman was. “Emily Clarkson? Who's she?” I asked.

He was silent for a minute, his teeth discreetly gritting. “She was my first love,” he confessed.

I arched my brows in shock, eyes widening at the awkwardness of how the word sounded in his mouth. He didn't strike me as one who understood the concept of love.

“I wasn't always like this, cold and devoid of emotions,” he began, his narration holding my attention. “Eighteen years ago, I was what you would call…a lover boy.”

It was difficult to paint that picture of him in my head, but okay.

“It's hard to believe, but it's true,” he continued. “I did feel something for her. But clearly, my affection for Emily was stronger than my loyalty to the Bratva, and that was terrible.”

“What happened?” I asked after he paused, watching my face.

“She was killed by a rival gang.” He added almost immediately, “At least, that was what I thought for eighteen years. Turns out my uncle saw my affection for Emily as weakness, so he had her killed.”

My chest constricted as if squeezed by an invisible fist, and I felt a stinging sensation like tears welling up. My breath hitched, lodged in my throat, and my heart sank, weighed down by his words.

I knew how much he idolized his dear old Uncle Ivan—the entire Tarasov family did. I could only imagine his agony at this realization.

“Killing Emily was the event that created this cold, emotionless monster standing in front of you,” he said, his voice steady and calm as he masked his pain. “I closed myself off to feeling anything for anyone.” His gaze on me intensified. “And for a long time, it was so. Until you came along.”

I drew a deep breath, my eyes fixed on him.

“I never should have treated you the way that I did,” he said, firm and resolute. “It was unfair, and I should have handled the situation better.”

Hold on a minute. Did he just apologize? I thought, pushing my head back in surprise.

“Yes. I just apologized,” he said, as though he'd heard my thoughts, his eyes still locked on me.

My brows arched instantly. “What, you can read minds now?” I teased, a small smile spreading across my face.

He let out a scoff, mirroring my gesture.

Time seemed to suspend as his apology hung in the air and my eyes roamed his face, searching for any sign of insincerity. But I found none.

His words were genuine.

My lips parted, and for the moment, words failed me as shock and surprise wrestled with gratitude, leaving me breathless.

Memories of all the pain I’d had to endure because of him came flashing in my mind, triggering my tears. But I wasn't the only victim here; I had a hand in this as well.

I blinked rapidly, attempting to hold in my emotions. “It's okay. I'm sorry, too.” A sigh came forth. “I targeted you, tricked you, and played with your feelings. That was wrong, and I regret my actions,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You were only seeking revenge for a wrong done to your family.” He inched closer. “There's nobility in that, and you should take pride in how successful your plan was.” His lips curled into a grin. “Well… almost successful,” he teased, air-quoting the word.

A hesitant chuckle escaped lips, punctuated by a heart-wrenching sob. “You just couldn't let me have that.” I searched his eyes again, hoping the flicker of emotions dancing in their depths was genuine. “Is this real?”

He quietly took my hand, squeezing gently against my fingers. “Do you feel that?” His voice, low and husky, sent shivers down my spine.

I nodded, my lips trembling as I fought back the urge to cry. “Despite everything that's happened, I….” My head shook, tears trickling down my cheeks. “I can't stop myself from feeling what I feel for you. I've tried to shake it off but I can't and it scares me.” I paused, looking into his eyes. “I think I'm in love with you, Roman.”

His expression softened, eyebrows slowly arching as he held my gaze.

“If we had met under a different circumstance, I'm sure that I would've loved you without fear—without compromise—because you, Roman, have unlocked something in me. You've awakened a part of me that's been asleep all this while,” I confessed amidst sobs, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. “I want this to work, but I'm afraid.” My eyes dropped to the floor.

He closed the distance between us, his finger gently lifting my chin. With a delicate motion, he swiped his thumb over my cheek, wiping my tears.

Roman stared into my eyes and said, with a voice so calm and comforting, “There's no need to be afraid, Julia.”

My heart raced as I watched him smile at me, his eyes shining with something that looked like excitement. The anticipation of his next words had me frozen, my breath lodged in my throat, as I hoped he was about to say what I thought he was about to say.

“You can love me without fear,” he muttered, his forehead resting on mine. “Because I know I will…if you let me.”

My tears wouldn't stop flowing, and my heart was leaping with joy, eyes widening at his confession.

His hands cradled my face. “I love you, too, Julia. You complete me, and I would love to spend the rest of my life with you,” he whispered, his gaze burning with sincerity.

I felt the tension in my body release, my heart swelling with excitement. A soft sigh escaped me as my eyes fluttered closed, lips twitching at the corners. “Don't say those words unless you truly mean them.”

He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer to himself. “I mean every word, Julia,” he reassured, eyes boring into my soul.

I wasn't dreaming.

This was real.

Roman had just confessed his feelings for me, and it was overwhelming—in a good way.

I melted into his arms, hugging him tightly with my arms wrapped around his neck. His strong, protective hands enveloped me like a shield, and I found peace, comfort, and safety in his warm embrace.

Letting out a satisfactory sigh, I felt all that anxiety leave my body like a gentle breeze. I jerked my face to the head of the steps and caught Aida smiling as she looked down at us.

I guess she was right, after all; everything is finally falling in place.

But wait.

What about Uncle Ivan?

I can’t ruin this moment. I'll ask Roman later, I thought, tightening my hold around his rigid form.

With my eyes shut, I drew in the scent of his cologne, a broad smile playing on my lips.

~ One Year Later

Fingers intertwined with mine, Julia stood by my side at Uncle Ivan's gravesite, her heels sinking into the earth. Clad in a somber black dress, she bowed her head, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail with shades that concealed her eyes.

Dressed up in my finest black suit, surrounded by the entire Tarasov family, all in black, we paid our respect to a fallen hero—a man admired by a few and feared by most.

His sudden death was a shock to the Tarasov family, especially since it was death by suicide. For over a year now, the question lingered about why he'd take his own life and why he'd kill Jorah first before doing that.

No one other than me, my wife, and Boris knew the ugly truth behind his demise. I could easily tell the others about what truly happened, but that would tarnish his reputation and name.

He might have been a terrible uncle, but he was still family, and I couldn't take away the respect we all had for him. He'd done so much for the Bratva, so much that the Tarasov accomplishments wouldn't be complete without mentioning Ivan Tarasov.

In the end, he got what he deserved and paid for his atrocities, and I spared the rest of the family this disappointment. They still remembered him as a hero; that was his final request, anyway, the reason he chose death over serving his time.

The cemetery exuded a peaceful silence, the crisp air filled with the sweet fragrance of fresh flowers—roses and lilies that adorned the granite headstone.

Soft sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows over the lush grass—well-manicured—as songbirds filled the atmosphere with their gentle melodies.

Once the ceremony was over, the family members, one by one, moved away from the gravesite with hushed conversations.

I felt the gentle squeeze of Julia’s fingers against mine as she looked at me. “I'll be with you in a minute,” I whispered softly, stealing a glance at her.

She flashed a faint smile and stepped away, leaving me to my thoughts alone at the gravesite.

“He's in a better place, you know,” Artem said, gliding over to stand beside me.

“I know,” I replied without taking my eyes off the granite headstone.

He heaved a sigh, both hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. “Uncle Ivan's death was mysterious. I still can't wrap my head around it, even after one whole year.” He paused for a moment.

“Yeah, me, neither.” My voice dropped to a hushed tone, and my fingers rubbed my eyes.

Artem drew in a deep breath. “Justice can be a funny thing sometimes,” he began, his voice leveling out as he spoke. “There are days it would require…well, unconventional paths.” He turned to look at me, his expression soft and eyes sparkling with mischief.

My brows knitted together, mirroring the confusion that settled on my face.

“The world's a complex web, Roman. We all play our roles, and sometimes, the threads get tangled, leaving us with no choice but to compromise,” he added, his words carrying a hidden meaning.

Did he…?

No. He couldn't possibly….

My brows narrowed as we stared at each other, Artem's eyes holding a deep understanding that left me perplexed.

“We all make choices—some harder than others—but in the end, they shape us nonetheless.” He clasped his dark shades on and patted my shoulder. “See you around, cousin.”

I watched Artem walk away with graceful steps, a hand in his pocket as he joined Mikhail and Afanasy by their cars. He'd always been a wise one—that was why he was such a good Pakhan .

My eyes returned to the gravesite as I let out a soft sigh. “Until we meet again, Uncle.”

I stepped away, heading toward my family.

Julia chattered with her old friend, Madelyn, laughing about God-knows-what. My wife looked so beautiful and charming as time seemed to slow down, allowing me to bask in her glowing essence.

My eyes shifted toward our little angel, Yelena, and my lips curled into a bright smile.

Aida, now my wife's closest friend and Yelena's nanny, stood by our car with our one-year-old daughter in her arms.

Yelena's adorable hazel eyes locked on me as she burst into a toothy grin. “Da-da,” she squealed, stretching out her chubby arms.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Miss me?” I laughed, halting in front of Aida.

She smiled, transferring the leaping toddler into my eager arms. “She's been calling for you,” Aida said.

“Is that so?” I asked, locking my gaze on the cutest baby in the world.

Yelena, with uncontrollable heart-warming smiles, wrapped her tiny arms around me, planting wet kisses on my cheeks.

“You missed Da-da, didn't you?” I chuckled, spinning her around in a gentle circle.

Yelena giggled, reaching to grab my nose, her black ponytail bouncing as I twirled her.

“Having fun without me?” Julia asked, her tone playful as she approached. “I'm jealous.”

“Mama,” Yelena squealed, still resilient in her attempts to drag my nose.

“Hey, princess.” Julia's voice dropped to an adorable whisper, and she edged closer to kiss Yelena's forehead. She looked at me with a smirk. “Hey, handsome.” Julia then reached to plant a kiss on my lips.

“Oh, please, get a room already,” Afanasy's voice cut through the air as he approached us alongside Mikhail.

My wife and I exchanged smiles as we turned to face them.

“Pay no attention to him. He's just jealous 'cause he doesn't have what you do,” Mikhail teased, patting his shoulder as they halted in front of us.

“You're one to talk. You haven't gotten laid in over a year,” Afan shot back, striking a response that prompted us to laugh.

“Hey, watch your language. You're in the presence of a princess,” I said, staring at my baby girl.

“Apologies, Your Highness.” Afan sketched a bow, delicately taking Yelena's tiny hand. “Or is it my lady ? I never know the difference.” He raised his head and smiled at her. “She's growing so fast,” he said, shifting his gaze between me and Julia.

“Yeah, she is,” Julia said, her voice dripping with pride. “Soon, she'll be running circles around me.” She chuckled.

Kostya and Madelyn joined us, and while the Tarasov family reunited, chattering and laughing, I felt a presence looming over us.

Someone was watching us, and I could literally feel their stare. I shifted my attention from the bliss and happiness unfolding before me and meticulously scanned the environment until my eyes fell on a figure lurking behind an oak tree at a distance.

I squinted, discreetly peering for a better view as the figure stepped out into the open.

It was Julia's old partner, Agent Anderson. The man just wouldn't give up. He was still looking for ways to bring me down.

Julia had decided to ditch him completely after realizing that he'd been using her grief to further his personal vendetta.

I knew he wasn't going to stop coming after me, and I didn't give two fucks. He could try all he wanted, but eventually, he'd realize that my family and I were untouchable.

For now, though, let him have his fun digging into me.

As everyone returned to their cars, bidding one another farewell, my wife's phone rang, and her face lit up with a smile.

“Hey, Tommy,” she answered, stepping into the backseat of our vehicle.

Tommy was doing well these days; he'd been adopted by a foster family and was getting the required therapy, which had proven to be quite helpful.

I hadn’t had a problem with raising him, but Julia didn't want her brother getting involved in the mafia business. I respected that.

She would occasionally go to visit him and vice versa.

As I walked over to the other side of the car, I turned to take one last look at Agent Anderson, but he was gone. I let out a scoff and stepped into the vehicle, shutting the door behind me.

Boris started the engine and drove away.

“How is he?” I asked my wife as she got off the phone with her brother.

“He's fine.” Her face lit up with a smile. “Very fine, actually. Thank you.”

Yelena was lying peacefully in her mother's arms as Julia stroked her back, cajoling her to sleep.

I closed the distance between us, eyes fixed on my wife. “What're you thanking me for?”

“Everything,” she whispered, holding my gaze. “You've been such an amazing father, uncle, and, most importantly, an amazing husband this past year.” She paused for a moment, exhaling slowly. “I'm the happiest woman in the world today, and that's because of you, Roman. So…thank you.”

“Whatever I learned, I learned from you, Julia,” I said, my voice calm and my words measured and deliberate. “You did what no one else could. You brought out the best in me, and I should be the one thanking you.” I reached out, cradling her face with an unwavering smile.

She melted into my touch, her eyes shutting momentarily before she looked at me with an intense gaze laced with emotions. A smirk played on my lips when she mouthed, “I love you, Roman.”

I inched closer and kissed her lips, tongues slowly gliding into both our mouths. She giggled, her body shuddering at my touch even after all this time.

God, I loved his woman!