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The SUV pulls up in front of a high-end bridal shop in New York City, and Cillian steps out of the driver’s side, opening the door for me. Two of his men remain in the backseat, their presence a constant reminder of his watchful eyes.

“I’ll be around until you’re done.”

“Yeah, okay,” I reply, not bothering to call the girls yet to update them on the new wedding date or my new living situation.

My sister, of course, knows. Konstantin told her, and she’s not exactly thrilled about my sudden departure either.

Luckily, all my clothes arrived before our flight here, so now it’s just a matter of getting my dress sorted. I know exactly what I want, so this will be easy.

When I step inside the store, I’m caught off guard to see my sister, Natalia, and Alisa already waiting for me.

“Oh my God!” I gasp, hand instinctively clutching my chest. “What are you guys doing here?”

“You really think we’d miss this?” Natalia shakes her head, a playful grin spreading across her face as she comes over to give me a hug, followed by Alisa and Tatiana.

“It’s not like I’m exactly excited about it,” I mutter just as a woman in a sleek pantsuit approaches.

Her teeth flash in a polished smile. “Mrs. Quinn.”

I wince internally. Is he telling the whole world I’m a Quinn now? I force a smile and return the greeting.

“I know we don’t have much time before your big day,” she continues. “But I promise everything will be delivered on time. We just need to pick something today.”

She’s trying hard to sound confident, but even she seems a little nervous. They’ve probably promised her a lot of money to get this done quickly.

“I know exactly what I’m looking for,” I tell her, outlining the specific details of the dress I have in mind.

Tatiana’s gaze expands. Leaning in, she whispers, “Are you sure about that?”

“I am,” I reply with a confident grin.

“Well, then I have just the perfect gown for you.” The woman turns and disappears into the back.

Natalia laughs. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em, right?”

CHAPTER42

CILLIAN

Fia sits perchedon her father, Fionn’s, lap, her bright, innocent smile lighting up her face as she watches Dinara intently across the dinner table.

She’s a sweet, adorable four-year-old and has her father completely wrapped around her finger. But Fionn had no idea she even existed until just a few months ago. Neither he nor her mother, Amara, had any way of finding each other so she could tell him about their daughter.

“You’re pretty,” Fia says, grinning up at Dinara while my entire family is gathered around my father’s dining table. “Do you love Uncle Cillian? Daddy says Uncle Cillian loves you.”

I choke on my water, the sputtering cough catching me off guard. Dinara scratches her temple, her eyes flickering between Fia’s earnest gaze and the silent room around us.

This is exactly how I imagined our family dinner would go. Total inquisition. Glancing at Fionn, I see the devilish grin tugging at his lips. Of course he’s enjoying this.

Fia’s gaze is still on Dinara, waiting patiently for an answer.

“That’s not a polite question, baby,” her mother says gently, giving Dinara an apologetic look.

Fia, undeterred, furrows her brow. “Why, Mommy? You have to love a boy to get married, right? Like princesses and princes?”