Page 137 of Nikola

“You’re beautiful,” Mama signed while she and Branka watched with teary eyes on their smiling faces.

They’d helped with the wedding, much to my papa’s relief. He gave it his best shot, but he drew the line at centerpieces.

The door swung open, Papa and Sasha walking in with their suave strides and wide grins.

“A perfect day for my perfect daughter,” Papa announced, striding over to me with sure steps and pressing a kiss on my forehead.

“I’m not perfect,” I objected, lifting my head, and just as the sun hit his face, I swore I saw tears glistening in his dark eyes. “Not even close to it, but thank you for always having my back, Papa. You too, Sasha.”

“You’re perfect,” Sasha protested. “And it’s us who should be thanking you, Skye. You brought light into our lives.”

I blinked hard, my gaze traveling over my unusual family. My parents and my adoptive parents. I couldn’t imagine my life without them.

“I’m so grateful to have four such wonderful parents.”

I smiled, then pulled them all into a big hug.

A saying claims nobody could have it all, but these days, I was pretty damn close. The love of my life. A loving family. Wonderful friends.

My parents’ eyes traveled over me and my unusual wedding dress. A long sleeveless gown with a white bodice, covered in silk pastel flowers that stretched all the way to the ground.

“Are you nervous?” Sasha questioned. “Want to run away?”

Damien appeared, looking handsome and so grown up. “If you’re going, take me with you, because there’s a girl that keeps trying to hold my hand.”

“I think the groom will catch up to us,” Papa stated.

“I’m not nervous.” I couldn’t stop smiling. “Just incredibly happy, and I can’t wait to walk down the aisle.”

I couldn’t wait to have Nikola all to myself once the guests left. My parents would leave too, leaving us alone at Miramare for a blissful week before we left on our honeymoon.

“So tonight, you and Nikola are going to get jiggy, huh?” Damien winked, and Sasha smacked him on the head. “What the fuck, Dad?”

“Skye’s not getting jiggy with anyone,” Sasha grumbled, causing me to blush.

“Jesus Christ, get your mind out of the gutter, man. I was talking about dancing and having fun, not sex.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Yes, we’ll be sure to… dance.”

“You know you’re my favorite sister,” he started.

“Your only sister,” I corrected him. He waved his hand in the air, like that little piece of information was irrelevant.

“But if you make me an uncle before I’m twenty-one, you won’t be my favorite sister,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken.

I patted his hand. “Don’t worry. I promise to wait.” Possibly for a very, very long time.

“But don’t wait too long.” Sasha grinned. “Dante and I have a bet going.”

I let out a groan. “Do I even want to know?”

“No, you don’t,” Branka stated matter-of-factly.

Mama shot Papa a reprimanding look. “Those two are acting like children.”

“What, Nix? You know we’ll be better grandparents than this Russian,” Papa grumbled with a guilty expression. “Any child would rather be in Italy than freeze-your-ass-off Russia.”

Sasha scoffed. “We also stay in New Orleans, you know.”