Page 117 of Savage Vows
Only our siblings and mothers are here. No fathers—by Dante’s choice and mine. We agreed that today is about love and the people who stayed, not the ones who hurt us or tried to own us. Bella is here with her baby girl, cheeks round and eyes asserious as a judge, clinging to her mother’s shoulder and eyeing the priest as if sizing him up. I catch Bella’s eye and she smiles, her happiness radiating through the church. Liam stands a little awkwardly in the aisle, but his smile is wide and genuine, and I know he’d kill or die for our child without a second thought.
Dante’s mother sits at the front, tears shining in her eyes as she clutches her rosary. She leans toward me and squeezes my hand as the priest anoints our daughter’s forehead with oil. Julianne is beside her, hair tied back, looking both exhausted and radiant. She’s been living with us for months now, taking care of me, and each day she returns more and more to the sister I remember. There’s no more jealousy now, because I know that my husband has eyes for no one but me.
Oleg stands in the back, his massive frame taking up two pews, and when our baby fusses, he’s the first to make a silly face and get a smile.
The church is silent, save for the distant echo of organ keys and the soft cooing of our baby in my arms. The priest looks up from his small leather-bound book, his voice gentle but firm. “And what name have you chosen for your child?”
There’s a pause, just a breath, and then we speak together, like it was always meant to be.
“Elena,” we say.
“Elena Sera Volkova,” I add quietly, my eyes on Dante as the priest nods approvingly. A name Dante picked, saying it reminded him of the calm after the storm. Elena, because it means light, and that’s exactly what she’s been to us.
The priest repeats it with reverence. “Elena Sera Volkova.”
When he holds our daughter and blesses her, I close my eyes and send a silent prayer that her life will be soft where ours were hard, full where ours were empty, safe in ways we never dared hope for ourselves.
Afterward, we gather in the tiny garden outside, surrounded by roses and lavender, laughter bouncing off the stone walls. Bella presses her baby into my arms for a minute, and I marvel at how different and yet similar she feels. “She’s getting heavy,” I tease Bella. “She eats more than Dante.”
Bella just grins, not rising to the bait. “Wait till yours starts crawling. Then the real trouble begins.”
I observe the room. There are less than hundred people here. Dante wanted to go all-out, but I wanted something more intimate. Most of his men are here, including his valuable informant, Eddie. He’s taller than I expected, with close-cropped hair and the kind of jawline that looks carved from stone. His suit is plain and dark, nothing flashy, and his eyes seem to miss nothing.
I leave Dante’s side, heart fluttering with nerves and curiosity, and intercept him as he’s watching Bella cradle her baby on the bench.
“Do you have what I wanted?” I ask quietly, glancing at Bella, who’s busy cooing at her daughter. She’s been maddeningly secretive about her baby’s father for months. When I found out Eddie was the guy who could dig up anything for Dante—bank records, hidden properties, all of it—I slipped him my own little request.
The name is written in Eddie’s careful hand. Aleksandr. I blink. My gaze flicks up to Eddie’s.
“Aleksandr?” I whisper. “As in?—”
Eddie’s eyes narrow with meaning. “As in the most dangerous man in the city, after your husband, of course.”
I nearly laugh at the absurdity. I only met him once, at Maksim’s party, and vaguely remember him. “How on earth did Bella get mixed up with him?” I shoot a glance at Bella, who’s bent over her daughter, gently fixing a shoe strap, looking so unbothered and so happy that it almost makes me dizzy.
Before Eddie can answer, I feel Dante’s presence behind me, the familiar warmth of his hand coming to rest on my shoulder. I tilt my head up and catch his smirk.
“Old habits die hard, huh?” he says, a glint of teasing pride in his eyes.
I slip the envelope into my pocket, a little flush warming my cheeks. “You know me. Never could resist a mystery.”
He squeezes my shoulder, leaning close so only I can hear. “You’re trouble, Adriana Volkova. And you’re all mine.”
I smile, letting the sun and the laughter and the scent of roses settle around us. For a moment, I’m just a woman with her family, surrounded by the only people who ever truly mattered. And that, after everything, is all the peace I ever needed.
Do I miss my old life? Maybe a little. But then Dante’s hands find mine, and I know nothing is more important than my family. I have my own part to play here. And for now, that is enough.
The End