Page 50 of Sweet Obsession (Savage Vow #1)

LUNA

It’s strange being back in Yakutsk. After everything that happened in Paris, after the way Misha found me there, we decided to come home.”

The cold feels familiar, yet sharper now, like a chill that has sunk deeper into my bones.

I had missed it, missed the way the air bites at your skin, the way the snow always seems to be falling, creating a constant gray haze.

It’s the cloudiest place in the world, and yet, there’s a warmth here now I didn’t expect.

It’s in the way Misha looks at me, like I’m the only thing that matters.

It’s in the quiet moments, the soft ones, when he’s not saying anything but I feel it all the same. His hands, gentle, even when they’re rough with everything else. The way he’s taking care of me now.

I sit in the large, marble bathroom of the suite he's prepared for us. The water runs warm over my body as I lean back, the steam rising, curling into the air. My hair, wet and dark, clings to my back. It’s long, thick, the dark waves swirling down past my shoulders.

It’s the same color it’s always been—deep brown, almost black, but with a softness to it that I’ve always liked.

Misha kneels behind me, his hands steady and careful as he works through the strands, massaging the shampoo into my scalp. The touch is almost reverent, like he’s trying to memorize the feel of my hair, the softness of it.

He moves slowly, every stroke deliberate, and I close my eyes, letting the sensation of it wash over me. His hands are strong, but there’s this tenderness in the way he handles me that makes my chest tighten in ways I’m still learning to understand.

When he’s done washing it, he dries my hair with a towel, his fingers lingering as he tousles it gently. He doesn’t say anything for a while, but I can feel his gaze on me. It’s like he’s seeing me for the first time, the quiet reverence in his expression making my heart skip.

“I have a confession,” I murmur, voice low.

His hands still for a moment, and I feel the tension ripple through him. He doesn’t speak, just waits, eyes locked with mine in the mirror.

“I didn’t want to say it right away because I wasn’t sure... but now I am.”

He turns me gently toward him, his brows knitting. “Luna... what is it?”

I take a breath, heart pounding.

“I’m pregnant.”

His eyes go wide, and for a moment, it’s like the world stops. The air thickens between us, and I feel his shock, his joy, his disbelief all at once. His hands still, and then, with a low exhale, he turns me to face him, his hands resting on my shoulders.

“You’re...” His voice cracks, the words thick with emotion. “You’re pregnant?”

I nod, feeling the sudden weight of the moment. It’s real. It’s happening.

And then, without warning, his face lights up. A smile so wide, so full of joy, that it feels like the room brightens with it. “Luna, that’s... that’s incredible,” he says, his voice thick with happiness. “We’re going to have a child. Our child.”

I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips as he pulls me close, wrapping me in his arms, his face buried in my neck as he breathes me in. “I can’t believe it,” he mutters, more to himself than to me. “We’re going to be parents.”

I laugh, a soft sound in the quiet room. “It’s crazy, right?”

“Crazy in the best way possible,” he replies, his voice rough with emotion. “I can’t even imagine what it will be like. Holding our child, raising them together. It’s going to be everything, Luna. I swear it.”

We stand there for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the future suddenly feeling so much bigger, brighter. For once, it feels like there’s no darkness. Just us, and this new chapter we’re about to start together.

Later that evening, Misha takes me out for dinner. Just the two of us. We’re in a quiet restaurant in the heart of Yakutsk, the air between us charged with the quiet excitement of everything that’s happened today.

But as we sit at our table, I notice something. Two men at the far corner of the room, their eyes trained on me. I can feel their gazes on my skin, their interest in a way that makes my stomach twist uncomfortably.

I try to ignore them, but it’s impossible. They’re watching me too intently, too openly. The air around us feels thick.

And then, suddenly, the restaurant begins to empty. I glance around, startled, as waiters and patrons alike stand and leave, heading toward the door in a hurried fashion.

“Misha?” I ask, my voice a little more breathless than I intended. “What’s going on?”

He’s calm, his expression unwavering, but there’s a dark satisfaction in his eyes as he sips his wine. “I had the owner of this restaurant evacuate everyone. You deserve privacy, Luna. You deserve to be seen the way I see you—without anyone else’s gaze on you.”

I blink, taken aback. “You had them all leave?”

His smile is soft, but there’s something sharper beneath it, feral, possessive. “They weren’t just looking. Those men were staring at you like you were something they could touch. Like they had a right to feast on what’s mine.”

My breath catches.

“You’re too beautiful, Luna,” he says, voice lowering.

“Too damn curvy in all the right places. You walked in here looking like sin and they stared like hungry wolves. So yes, I had everyone cleared out. Including those two bastards who are lucky I let them walk out with their teeth, let alone their lives.”

I stare at him, heart racing, the weight of his jealousy settling like a heavy cloak. His fingers wrap around the stem of his glass, but his attention is fixed solely on me.

“I’m not sorry,” he adds. “I’ll always be like this with you. Jealous. Obsessive. Overprotective. Because you’re mine, Luna. And no one else gets to look at you like that.”

I laugh a little, shaking my head. “You’re unbelievable.”

His smile widens. “I do what I have to do.”

The tension between us melts, softened by the quiet intimacy of the candlelight and the silence of the emptied restaurant. We return to our meal, forks clinking gently, our conversation shifting into something lighter, easier.

We talk about the wedding. Not just in vague ideas or rushed promises, but really talk about it.

He leans forward, eyes warm. “I want it big this time. Formal. No secrets, no shadows. I want the whole world to know you’re mine, and not because I forced it, but because you chose it. I want you in white, walking toward me. I want vows, real ones, not contracts or threats or desperate promises.”

I smile, feeling the warmth bloom in my chest. “You’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you?”

“Since the day I first saw you in that red dress,” he murmurs. “But now... I want the whole thing. A real ceremony. Music. A ring that fits right. And a dress you love. One where I can barely breathe looking at you.”

I glance at him, a slow grin tugging at my lips. “You’ll cry.”

“I’ll cry,” he agrees, without hesitation. “And I want the photos to prove it.”

I laugh, really laugh this time, and he reaches across the table to take my hand, brushing his thumb along my knuckles.

“Whatever you want, Luna,” he says. “Paris. Italy. Even here in the snow. Just tell me, and I’ll give you the wedding you deserve.”

The way he’s looking at me, it feels like a vow in itself.

“Luna, you are the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he says suddenly, his voice low, filled with admiration. “I will spend every day of my life reminding you of that. I will never let you forget it.”

I look up at him, my heart fluttering in my chest. “You really think so?”

“More than anything,” he says, his eyes soft and full of love. “You’re everything.”

We both laugh, the sound light and free. And then, with a wink, he stands and takes my hand.

“Come with me,” he says, leading me outside.

I follow him, curious, until we stop in front of a beautiful garden. It’s glowing with soft lights, flowers everywhere, their sweet scent filling the air. Photographers are already there, snapping pictures, and I realize, with a slight jolt, that we’re surrounded by cameras.

Misha had arranged this, an announcement, he called it. A quiet declaration to the Bratva, the city, the world: that I was his, publicly, irrevocably.

Misha takes my hand and turns to face me, his eyes full of love, full of intent. “Luna, this is our world now. This is my world. And I want to declare to everyone, to the entire world, that you’re mine. My wife. The woman I’ll forever be obsessed with. The woman I’ll spend my life loving.”

Tears sting my eyes as I look at him, the weight of his words sinking in. The world around us is blurred, everything fading into the background as I focus on him, on us.

And then, without another word, he leans in and kisses me.

It’s passionate, a kiss full of promises, of love, of everything we’ve been through. And in that moment, I know it’s the start of forever.

And as the cameras flash around us, I can’t help but think that this is it, the end of one story, and the beginning of another.

The beginning of our life together.

THE END.