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Alina

The satin is too smooth beneath my fingertips. My heart is thumping too loud for how quiet the room is. And my cheeks—God, they hurt from smiling so hard.

“You’re glowing,” Scarlett says behind me, tugging the final ribbon through the back of my custom dress.

“She’s glowing because she’s seven months pregnant and hasn’t sat down in the last hour,” Yelena drawls as she fluffs my veil like she’s on a mission to make it float.

“I am not glowing because I’m exhausted,” I reply, lifting my chin. “This is bridal glow. Don’t steal my moment.”

They both laugh. Scarlett steps back and clasps her hands, eyes shining. “You look breathtaking, Alina.”

I glance at my reflection in the mirror. The dress fits like a second skin—pure ivory, with delicate lace sleeves and a silhouette that embraces my bump before cascading into a pool of silk. It’s elegant, soft, and powerful all at once. As if I’m both the storm and the calm that follows.

Yelena walks up beside me, arms crossed, smug. “I still think you should’ve waited to have the baby first.”

I arch a brow. “We didn’t want to wait. Lev and I agreed—we want our daughter born into a home already bound in love. Into a family, not just a house.”

Scarlett melts at that. “Oh, damn. Now I’m crying.”

Yelena rolls her eyes. “You always cry.”

“I do not.”

“Scarlett,” I say gently, turning to face her. “You’ve cried at Viktor sharpening his knife before.”

She wipes beneath one eye, muttering, “It was a very emotional day. He was going to war for Yelena.”

We all burst out laughing. And then the room stills for a moment.

Scarlett gently walks over and tenderly places her hand on my belly, her voice filled with warmth. “We’ve really come such a long way together, haven’t we?”

Yelena nods, her expression faraway. “We’ve become three wives to three men who no one expected would ever settle.”

“To think that Viktor almost ruined your love story by trying to marry you off to the Colombians?” Scarlett chuckles lightly.

“I’m glad he came to his senses,” Yelena adds. “Aithan wouldn't allow me to interfere, claiming Viktor is in charge and would do the right thing.”

Scarlett shrugs, unbothered now. “I told him he was out of his damn mind. We fought, but he didn’t listen. Until he came to his senses at the airport.”

I reach for her hand. “I didn’t know you fought for me.”

“You’re my sister,” Scarlett says simply. “We may not have started out that way—but I’d go to war for you.”

My throat tightens, and Yelena brushes a tear off my cheek. “You’ve always been the quiet one. The soft one. But today, you’re walking into a life you chose. A husband you chose. That’s no small feat in our world.”

I nod, overwhelmed but steady. “I feel strong today. I feel… whole.”

There’s a knock on the door.

Scarlett peeks out and then chuckles. “The officiant says we have ten minutes.”

“Where’s your baby, by the way?” I ask Yelena, suddenly realizing the tiny bundle I expected to see hasn’t been passed around yet.

“With the nanny,” Yelena says casually.

Scarlett barks out a laugh. “Really? That’s interesting. Because I just saw the baby in Aithan’s arms as I came down the hallway.”

Yelena flushes. “I told him to hand him over before I came up.”

I grin. “Yelena, you don’t need a nanny.”

Scarlett leans in. “Because your husband won’t let your son out of his sight.”

Yelena attempts to scowl, but we all can't help but burst into laughter once more. In this delightful moment, surrounded by love, laughter, and lace, I feel more than just a bride, a Bratva princess, or a mother-to-be. I feel like a woman who fought for her own fairytale.

And today, I get to live it.

The late afternoon sun casts a warm golden glow across the garden. Everything sparkles—crystal glasses on the reception tables, soft white rose petals along the stone aisle, the delicate lace on my veil that drifts like mist around me.

Scarlett squeezes my hand just before I step out. “Breathe, okay?”

Yelena adjusts my veil one last time, her expression soft but proud. “He’s going to lose it when he sees you.”

I’m already breathless.

Then the music begins. The gentle swell of strings. The rustle of anticipation. I step out, enveloped in sunlight, silk, and expectation.

But I see no one. Not the packed chairs of powerful allies and family. Not Viktor waiting to walk me down. Not even Aithan holding Yelena’s baby like a crown jewel.

All I see is him. Standing at the end of the aisle in a black tailored suit, his eyes locked on mine as if I’m the gravity pulling him in. His jaw is tight. His shoulders are tense. But his eyes—his eyes are wrecked.

I walk slowly, with awe, devotion, and a reverence that steals the air from my lungs. Every step is deliberate, and every breath is a prayer that I don’t break into tears before I get to him.

When I finally reach him, he lifts my veil with trembling hands, his expression thunderstruck.

And then—he dips toward me.

I barely have time to grasp what he is about to do before the officiant clears his throat sharply.

“Ahem. We haven’t reached that part yet, Mr. Ivanov.”

A ripple of laughter runs through the crowd.

Lev doesn’t look away from me. “Couldn’t help it.”

My smile stretches wide. “You’re lucky I’m not mad.”

“You love me too much to be mad,” he murmurs.

“Not wrong.”

We face the officiant, but our fingers find each other again, twining tight.

When it’s time for our vows, he doesn’t read from paper. He doesn’t need to.

“I’ve built walls my whole life. I’ve lived in shadows and resigned myself to a life in darkness. Then you stepped into my world—brighter than any sun, stronger than any steel.” His voice cracks slightly. “I didn’t think I deserved peace until you gave it to me. I didn’t know I was good enough to belong to anyone… until you.”

Tears slip down my cheeks.

“I will guard you, love you, and follow you to every lifetime we’re given,” he finishes, voice hoarse.

When it is my turn, I gather my breath.

“I once believed love wasn’t meant for girls like me—that my future would be determined for me, and that I would live my life overlooked in silence. But then you looked at me. And you never stopped.” My voice trembles. “You are my once in a lifetime. And my always.”

We don’t hear the officiant pronounce us husband and wife.

Because we’re already kissing.

He pulls me close, one hand tangled in my hair, the other spread across my lower back, and I feel our daughter flutter between us like she knows this is her story too.

When we finally break apart, the entire garden erupts in applause. But all I hear is the sound of Lev whispering against my lips.

“You’re mine, Mrs. Ivanov.”

The honeymoon suit is warmly lit, with soft music playing in the background. My hand rests on my belly, rising and falling with every breath. The satin of my dress is gone—replaced by a silky robe, pale and soft and clinging to my skin. My body is tired, but my heart is beating like it knows something’s coming.

There’s a knock, then the door creaks open and Lev steps inside. The overhead light casting his sharp features in golden shadows. His jacket is gone, sleeves rolled up. He’s changed into dark slacks and a soft black shirt. Clean-shaven jaw. Neatly trimmed beard. And yet he looks every inch the dangerous man who stole my heart with a smirk and a scar.

But tonight, his eyes aren’t sharp.

They’re soft. Intimate.

Worshipful.

“You’re glowing,” he says, setting something down beside me on the bed.

“It’s the ring,” I tease, holding up my hand. “She’s heavy.”

“Not too heavy for you.”

I laugh as he sits beside me, his hand going to my knee, thumb brushing gently over the thin fabric.

“What’s this?” I ask, glancing at the small leather folder he placed down.

“Your wedding gift,” he says casually. But his eyes—his eyes are intense.

I pick it up, open it.

Inside is a deed.

I blink, reading the words twice.

“It’s the lakeside retreat,” I whisper, stunned. “The one where you proposed.”

He nods. “It’s yours. The land. The house. The lake. All of it.”

“Lev…” I shake my head. “That place must’ve cost a fortune.”

He leans in, voice low and unwavering. “And what’s a fortune worth if I don’t spend it on you?”

Emotion rises in my throat, hot and sudden.

“You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he interrupts. “You said you loved that place. And whatever you love, kotyonok… will always be yours.”

I laugh, wiping a stray tear from my cheek. “You’re going to spoil me.”

“I intend to.”

I lift my chin, playful. “So what—if I say I like something, you’re just going to buy it?”

Lev doesn’t blink. “Yes.”

I laugh again. “You’re serious?”

His gaze never wavers. “Absolutely. In fact, if you look at it too long, it’s yours.”

I set the deed down and lean into him, brushing my lips across his jaw.

“Alright, then,” I murmur. “I like you.”

He exhales a laugh—low and dangerous.

Then he stands.

And starts unbuttoning his shirt.

One. Button. At. A. Time.

His voice is gravel, deep and possessive. “Then come have me.”

The robe slips from my shoulders.

And as he walks toward me with hunger in his eyes and devotion in his every step, I realize something…

I will never spend another night of my life feeling unloved.

The End