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Yelena

A Second Wedding.

One year ago, I stood before a room full of strangers, my heart cold, guarded, unwilling.

That day, I had spoken my vows, not out of love, but out of duty. Out of necessity. Out of a twisted fate that had forced Aithan and me into each other’s arms without choice.

Today is different.

Today, I choose him.

Today, I love him.

The soft rustle of fabric whispers through the bridal suite as Alina and Scarlett fuss over the final touches of my dress.

It is a masterpiece—crafted from the finest silk and embroidered with delicate silver thread that glows under the chandelier’s light. The gown molds to my body, the deep neckline both bold and regal, the flowing train trailing behind me like a queen stepping onto her throne.

Aithan’s queen.

Alina steps back, her blue eyes identical to mine as they scan me with a mixture of awe and pride.

"You look like a goddess," she murmurs. "Aithan is going to lose his mind worshiping you when he sees you."

Scarlett smirks. "He already worships her. Now she just looks the part."

I laugh softly, but my heart pounds.

I have faced enemies without fear. I have stood my ground against betrayal and bloodshed. But this? This moment—where I am walking toward the man I love, ready to promise him forever—this shakes me to my core.

Alina must sense it because she grips my hand. "Are you ready?"

Today should have been just our anniversary. A quiet one, perhaps a private dinner, maybe a toast to a year that changed both of our lives forever. But Aithan never does anything quietly.

He stands at the end of the aisle, his pewter-gold eyes locked onto mine, and I forget how to breathe.

This time, I walk toward him, not because of obligation, not because of an alliance—but because my soul belongs to this man.

A breeze rolls in from the ocean, carrying the scent of salt and wildflowers. The private estate overlooking the Aegean Sea is filled with Mafia elites from both the Elliniki and the Bratva, not here for business but for us—for this moment where we reclaim our love, where we choose each other before the world.

Aithan stands tall and ruthless in a black tuxedo, the crisp white of his dress shirt a stark contrast to the dangerous, lethal man beneath. But when his eyes meet mine, I see something that no one else in this crowd of powerful men and women can claim. I see devotion. Possession. Love.

And I burn for him.

I grip my bouquet tighter, trying to steady my emotions, but the second I reach him, his hands claim mine, his touch grounding me, sending heat curling through my veins. He tugs me closer—not caring for tradition, not caring for the spectacle—just needing to feel me against him.

“You’re breathtaking, agápi mou .” His voice is low, rough, meant only for me. “And you are mine.”

My throat tightens. I am his. And he is mine.

The officiant clears his throat, and the ceremony begins.

Unlike our first wedding, there is no coldness between us this time. No tension, no unspoken defiance. This time, I don’t hold back.

I take Aithan’s hands and lift my chin with pride as I lavish him with my love in front of everyone who has ever mattered.

“I didn’t think love was meant for people like us,” I begin, my voice steady. “I thought it was a weakness. That it made you vulnerable. But then you walked into my life, and you didn’t just take my body—you took everything. My heart. My soul.”

Aithan’s fingers tighten around mine, his chest rising and falling heavily.

“I have never loved anyone the way I love you. I have never wanted anything the way I want you. And I will spend every day of my life proving to you that I am yours.” My voice shakes now, but I push through. “I love you, Aithan Vasilios. With everything I am.”

Aithan’s jaw tightens, his throat working as he swallows hard. When he speaks, his voice is low, raw, and full of worship.

“I never thought I’d love again,” he confesses, and my heart clenches. “I never thought I could want more than power, more than control. But then I met you, and you turned my world upside down.”

His hands cup my face now, his thumbs brushing away the tears spilling down my cheeks.

“You are my greatest obsession, Yelena. My deepest desire. And the only thing I will ever bow to.”

I let out a soft sob as his forehead rests against mine.

“This time, I choose you.” His voice breaks, and the world disappears as his lips claim mine.

As we kiss, the Elliniki and the Bratva stand together, a symbol of power and unity.

This is our empire now. Not just Aithan’s. Not just mine. Ours.

When we finally pull apart, cheers erupt.

Aithan pulls me into his arms, ignoring the crowd, the guests, and the world. His lips graze my ear, sending heat curling through my veins.

“This time, I choose you,” he whispers again.

And this time, it’s forever.

Aithan

The honeymoon suite is drenched in luxury—floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the glittering skyline, silk sheets the color of midnight, soft golden lighting that bathes Yelena in a glow so breathtaking it makes my chest ache.

But I don’t give a damn about any of it.

Not when she’s standing in front of me, still dressed in her wedding gown, her electric blue eyes locked onto mine with something deeper than love. Something soul-binding.

I pull her against me, my hands tracing the delicate beading of her gown before slipping lower, curving over the small of her back.

“I have a gift for you.”

She tilts her head up, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “You’ve already given me an island, Aithan. What extravagant thing could you possibly have for me now?”

I smirk, reaching into my jacket pocket and pulling out a small velvet box.

The second I flip it open, Yelena gasps.

A necklace of pure diamonds and sapphires, shaped like flames, glows in the soft light. The centerpiece is a teardrop-cut sapphire, the exact color of her eyes.

Yelena swallows, her fingers brushing over the stones, her expression unreadable.

“Aithan… this…”

I take the necklace from the box and fasten it around her neck, letting the cold gems settle against her warm skin. Then, I grip her chin, forcing her gaze back to mine.

“I would burn the world for you if you so much as asked, agápi mou.”

Her breath hitches because she knows I mean every word.

And then she launches herself at me.

Our lips crash together, hot, demanding, unrelenting. Her hands tangle in my hair, my grip tightens around her waist. The heat between us ignites, turning into something feral, something unstoppable—

Until she suddenly pulls back.

My pulse pounds as I stare at her, my body screaming in protest.

“Why did you stop?” My voice is rough, edged with desire.

Yelena takes a small step back, her breath unsteady. And then, slowly, she reaches into the small bag she had set on the bed earlier.

She pulls out an envelope.

The second I see the words written on it, my entire world stills.

"My Husband."

The air thickens. My hands tighten at my sides. My heart is fucking racing.

Yelena bites her lip, watching me with something unreadable in her gaze as she extends the envelope.

I take it, my fingers brushing against hers. The second I tear it open and pull out the paper inside—

The ground beneath me ceases to exist.

Everything—the world, the room, the goddamn universe—narrows down to the words in front of me.

A pregnancy confirmation.

My fingers tighten around the paper as I lift my gaze to my wife.

My queen.

Her blue eyes shine with unspoken emotion, her lip trembling slightly before she whispers, “I found out last week. When I went to New York for my final fitting. I suspected, but I wanted to be sure.”

The words slam into my chest.

For a moment, I can’t fucking breathe.

And then—something breaks inside me.

A sharp inhale rips from my throat as I stare at her, my pulse hammering like a war drum. I was not expecting this. I was not prepared for this.

But I should’ve been.

I should’ve known that Yelena would give me the one thing I never thought I could have again.

A family.

I move before I even realize it, gripping her face, crashing my mouth over hers with a desperation that borders on madness.

She is carrying my child.

Mine.

She laughs against my lips, soft and breathless, and when I finally pull back, my hands still frame her face, my thumbs brushing away the lone tears trailing down her cheeks.

I press my forehead against hers, our breaths mingling, our hearts beating in sync.

“How long gone are you?” My voice is raw, edged with something dangerous and beautiful.

Yelena’s eyes glisten as she smiles. “Ten weeks.”

I exhale sharply, pressing another fevered kiss to her lips, her jaw, her forehead. Ten weeks.

Ten weeks, and I had no idea.

Ten weeks, and my wife has been carrying our future inside her.

I wrap my arms around her, pressing her so close that there’s no space between us.

I almost lost her.

But now, she’s giving me a second chance.

At love. At family. At redemption.

And I will protect them with my last breath.

Forever.

The End