Page 132 of Captive Promise

Telling him without words that I’m here, that I’m his, that nothing and no one will ever change that.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard, our foreheads resting together.

Nico’s eyes are closed, his lashes wet with tears.

“What happens now?” I ask softly, tracing the line of his jaw with gentle fingers. “Russo and Luca are still out there. And even though the families stood down, they haven’t forgiven you.”

He sighs, his breath warm against my cheek. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I don’t know what comes next, or how we’re going to navigate all of this.”

He pulls back a little, just enough to meet my gaze. “But what I do know,” he continues, his thumbs brushing away my tears, “is that I have you. We have each other. And together…together, we can face anything. We can survive anything.”

I nod, a small, watery smile tugging at my lips. “I love you,” I tell him.

He kisses me again, soft and sweet, then he’s taking my hand, lacing our fingers together as we start to walk back toward the house.

But halfway there, he pauses, a sudden thought seeming to strike him.

“You didn’t tell them,” he says, glancing down at my still-flat stomach. “About the baby.”

I laugh, the sound bright and warm in the cool night air. “I think I gave my cousins enough heart attacks for one day,” I tease, tugging him back into motion. “If I’d told them I was pregnant too, they might have actually keeled over on the spot.”

Nico barks out a laugh and I find it’s my favorite sound. “Fair enough,” he concedes, shaking his head. “I guess we can save that particular bombshell for another day.”

“Exactly,” I agree, leaning into his side and kissing the underside of his jaw. “One crisis at a time.”

EPILOGUE: KATERINA

Six months. It’s been six months since that fateful night that changed everything. Sometimes, it feels like a lifetime ago.

Others, like it was just yesterday.

But no matter how much time passes, one thing remains constant: Nico.

His love, his presence, his unwavering devotion. To me, to our unborn child, to the life we’re making together.

I’m standing at the nurses’ station, finishing up some charts before my shift ends. It’s been a long day, but a good one.

I’m back at Columbia Presbyterian, doing the work I love, helping people, saving lives.

It wasn’t easy coming back after everything that happened.

There were whispers, rumors, sideways glances, and pointed questions.

But I held my head high. I proved myself, day after day, patient after patient.

And slowly, things started to feel normal again. Or at least, as normal as they can be, with my belly swelling bigger by the week, a constant reminder of how much my life has changed.

I rub a hand over my stomach, feeling a gentle kick against my palm. “Easy there, little one,” I murmur. “We’re almost done for the day.”

“Talking to yourself again, Dr. Sokolov?” a teasing voice says from behind me.

I turn, a smile already tugging at my lips. “Just having a chat with the baby, Dawn,” I reply, arching an eyebrow at my favorite nurse. “Got to start the medical education early, you know.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Heaven help us all, another Sokolov in the making,” she jokes as she sits down with a groan, rubbing her legs. “You heading out soon?”

I nod, glancing at the clock. “Just need to finish this last chart, then I’m officially off duty.”

“Good,” she says, her expression turning a bit more serious. “You need your rest, Dr. S. Don’t overdo it, okay?”