Epilogue 2

5 years later

Stamping can be felt more than heard as I sit in my office, and I finish my glass in time for Inessa to barge in. She's pissed. Smoke should be coming from her ears, and she slams the door closed, continuing her marching until she's on the opposite side of my desk. She leans down as she flattens her palms on the wood to stare into my eyes and her tone is hard, making me hard.

"You gave him a knife?!"

Playing dumb, I lean back and say easily, "He wanted it."

She moves back, cursing under her breath and looking around the room as though someone can agree with her.

"Fucking idiot. I'm married to an idiot."

Her hands ball into fists as she rounds the desk and stops at my side. She shakes them out to cup my face as she speaks slowly, like I'm too juvenile to understand at a normal pace.

"Vlad, you do not give a five-year-old a knife. Do you understand?"

Our son wanted it, so he got it. I don't see the problem. Even if he didn't say the word knife, he said he wanted to stab someone.

She doesn't relax as I hold her hips and pull her down to sit on my thigh. But she stares into my eyes, trying to implant her speech into my brain.

"Especially Vasili, he's like you and dangerous enough without a fucking weapon."

It won't work. I'm proud of the little ball of rage. He could make art out of shit, and I'd force some cunt to spend millions on it if it made him happy. There's nothing my children could do to make me have any other reaction. Kill, maim, or torture. They're fucking perfect as long they are happy.

He's a pain in the ass and obsessed with destroying anything he can, but he'll either calm with age or I'll spend the rest of my life making sure he never faces any consequences for his outlets.

Right now, I focus on my wife because we've got time alone and I want to render her birth control useless for a third time. The only fault I have about our kids is their need to constantly hang on to Inessa, so I never have her to myself. Even when they sleep in their other rooms in the house, they still manage to find themselves in our bed in the morning.

She relaxes as I reach her off switch under her ear but stops me from going any further when my hand touches her knee. She holds my wrist and leans back.

"Speak to him and take the fucking knife away. I caught him trying to convince Dima to put an apple on his head and let him try to hit it."

Biting my cheek to stop from laughing, I nod along, not trusting my voice. She gets up and straightens her dress, ready for her meeting at Maximoff Media, before kissing my cheek sweetly and her husky voice is in my ear.

"You know the rules, get a vasectomy, and I'll let you touch me."

I grab her hips before she can leave. Caging her in against the desk, I stroke up her thighs and watch the memory play out in her eyes.

"You were the one who came into the bathroom when I was showering. Why was that again, meelaya?"

Her thighs are in my hands because we both know she's a liar. Especially since she changed her number from at least two kids to at least three. According to Inessa, Vasili isn't made to be the youngest child.He's not made to be the middle child either. He's made to raise hell and constantly cause trouble. But she's back to her original idea of two children. It was made too easily and I'm not going to get a vasectomy until she's sure of the number.

She peels my hands off her and walks me backwards, holding my shoulders. Her voice is slow and teasing to match the wicked curve on her face.

"Try to change my mind then." I'm ready too when she bends at the waist and speaks against my lips. "Later. I have a meeting now so you can take the knife from Vasili without giving him another weapon." Then, she steps back and walks away.

She speeds up when I stand and smirks at me over her shoulder as she leaves my office. I go to find my children instead of chasing their bratty mother. I don't have to search for them. They both spend as much time as they can in the stables, and I can hear Viktor arguing with Vasili before I'm close. They're both hardheaded and refuse to give in unless they have a third party to channel it towards.

Proving my point, Viktor comes to my son's defense before I can even open my mouth.

"He didn't do anything. It was just a joke. We wouldn't really throw knives at Dima."

I don't give a fuck if he did, it's Inessa that's forcing me to do this shit. He already knows what I'm asking for as I hold my hand out and he scowls at me. Both of our kids take after their mother when they're with me. All three of them are stubborn as fuck and refuse to do what they're told.

Five years old and destined to be a pain in the ass.

I soften my voice enough that he knows there's no argument but not so much that he thinks the rules have changed.

"I told you not to let your mama find out about it, volchonuk1."

My initial idea that they would never have any rules went to shit as soon as they didn't listen to Inessa. She is the rule.

He knows he's lost, and straightens his shoulders, then pulls the knife out of his pocket. Sadness coats his features as he places it in my hand with his feet dragging. I'm about to say fuck it and give it back when it disappears.

"Can I have one again when I'm seven like Veroushka?" he asks with huge eyes filled with hope and mischief.

I nod once and he's happy again as I give a caveat. "If you remember not to let your mama see it."

His head moves in a blur as he nods and runs off to gloat to whoever will listen.Or convince Dima to do something even more dangerous. It's the latter when his screams pierce the air.

"DIMA! Ready or not!"

Viktor sighs and looks up at me, shaking his head. "This family is weird." He rolls his shoulders and states, "My dad said I'm not allowed to join his group. I'm joining yours."

Is he fuck. He's a teenager and I hold my hand up to my ear as a gauge. "Yeah, I have a height requirement. Go do your homework."

He lets out a harsh breath and takes his horse out of the stable to calm himself. He's confident riding and dresses the horse before jumping up with one foot in the holder and clicking his tongue for it to trot.

I check the other stalls because my daughter is silent and that usually means she's angry. I find her in the one furthest away. She's not clenching her fists or frowning as she brushes the horse and Vitali walks away now that she's not alone. None of the kids are allowed with the animals alone, especially Xena. She's angry as fuck and stomps her front foot when she sees me.

Verena turns to see what's upset her favorite animal and strokes the ugly thing.

"It's okay Xena, it's only Papa."

She's sweet as fuck and I ignore the animal in favor of my daughter. Remembering whatever annoyed her, she turns into her mother and turns around with her fists on her hips.

"You have to say sorry to Xena for calling her ugly," she demands.

Leading her away from the smug fucking horse, I stand her on the bench and sit opposite her, so we're eye to eye.

Her hands are still on her hips, and she has more spine than grown men as she repeats herself, "Say sorry, Papa, you weren't nice."

I ignore an apology to a fucking animal and focus on finding out who corrupted my daughter.

"Who's been teaching you bad words?"

They can curse up a storm, but they will never apologize to anyone. My children can do what they want, and the world is their playground. Well, as long as their mother doesn't find out because she's the one in charge.

The queen on my board and in my life.

The woman who changed my life and gave it meaning beyond violence and vengeance.

As though she's been summoned, her heels click against the tiled floor and our daughter tilts her head to the side. She cocks her hip as the metronome of her mother's steps and hisses, "I'll tell off you if you don't say sorry."

"Yeah?" I laugh. "Who are you going to tell?"

She looks at me like I'm an idiot and says, "Mama."

I nod, unconvinced, and repeat, "Mama? What will she do?"

Verena doesn't lose her conviction as she straightens her spine.

"Take your toys away and she won't let you play. Like when Vasy's naughty. You don't want that, Papa."

Inessa stops in the aisle and looks between us, picking up on the tail end of our conversation. "What doesn't your papa want?"

The little snitch gives me a look that I'm assuming is supposed to make me apologize to an animal. I stay silent. I'll give her whatever she wants, but she needs to learn that we do whatever the fuck we want. Rather than whoever the fuck taught her bullshit like the word sorry.

When I don't say anything, she dramatically sighs before tattling to her mother.

"Papa was being naughty, and he was nasty to Xena. You have to take his toys away now."

Inessa manages to keep a straight face while I scratch my jaw to hide my laugh. She drops down to her haunches and brushes Verena's hair back as she says seriously, "Okay, little wriggler. I'll punish your papa."

Our seven-year-old daughter gives me a tight-lipped smile before kissing her mother's cheek. She jumps down off the bench and steadily walks to me. Patting my thigh, she lifts up on her toes and kisses my cheek. She pauses and whispers, "I tried to help you."

There's no other admonishment and she skips away, leaving me with my punisher. Inessa waits until our daughter is out of earshot to stride over to me. There's an extra sway to her hips sway as she steps between my thighs and her hands go to my shoulders.

I stroke up her thighs and ask, "I thought you had a meeting?"

She leans over me, and her dark eyes are full of desire. "It was cancelled, and I have more important things to do."

"Hmmm, what's that?" I pull her closer and massage her ass. "Is it something that requires you to stay in this stable, meely moy?"

"You were being naughty remember." Her voice drops and her eyes light up with humor. "That means you can't have your toys."

I drag her down to straddle me and chase her lips. "Good, I don't need a toy when I have you." The playfulness lessens as I stare into her dark eyes. "I don't need anything else at all."

Inessa is everything. There's nothing sinister when she looks at me and she's crazy enough to see a man, not a monster. She massages across my shoulders as she hums, "But there is something I need." Threading her fingers through my hair, she smiles and seals her lips over mine as I stand with her in my arms.

Having two kids close in age meant that they always needed something, and we've made our own hideaway. Without it, I'd go fucking crazy. But she laughs as I take her to the stall furthest away from the house and the door has been modified to prevent anyone seeing inside.

The laugh is warm, filled with emotion, and she mumbles against my lips, "I love you." She kisses my cheek. "My beautiful husband, inside and out."

the end.