Page 35
Maxim and Sasha sit in the front row, dressed like they stepped out of a fairytale.
Maxim wears a miniature version of his father's suit, his dark hair slicked back and his blue eyes serious as he watches me approach.
Sasha's dress is a cloud of pale pink tulle, and she clutches a small basket that holds flower petals, now empty since she apparently scattered them all before I even appeared.
Little Angelina squirms in Olga's lap, wearing a dress that matches Sasha's but in miniature. At just over two years old, she is more interested in the ribbon from her flower crown than in the ceremony. Still, she claps her hands when she sees me, making Olga shush her gently.
There are more faces I recognize. Some of Aleksandr’s men who have become friends and a few people from my old life that made the guest list. But they all blur into background noise because my eyes go straight to him.
Dimitri.
He is standing at the altar beneath an arch woven with white roses and ivy, dressed in black, his hands clasped in front of him, his jaw tight, his eyes locked on mine like nothing else exists.
I’ve never seen him look so...raw. No armor. No walls. Just a man who lived through hell and still somehow chose love.
The black suit fits him perfectly, emphasizing the broad line of his shoulders and narrow waist. But it is his face that stops my heart.
There is no trace of the cold, calculating man I first met.
This is the man who holds me when I have nightmares and who remembers my favorite coffee order. This is the man who loves me.
As I walk down the aisle, everything else falls away.
Each step brings me closer to a future I never allowed myself to imagine.
A future where I don’t have to run, don’t have to hide, don’t have to protect myself from the possibility of loss because the man waiting for me has already proven himself worthy of trust.
I reach him, and Lev places my hand in Dimitri's. His fingers close over mine like a promise that says, I’ll never let you go.
When our skin touches, I feel some nervous energy leave my body. This is right. This is where I belong.
“You're beautiful,” he murmurs, low enough that only I can hear.
“So are you.”
A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “Ready?”
I nod once.
The officiant speaks, but I barely hear him.
Something about love being a choice made daily, about commitment being more than promises spoken at garden parties.
Words about building a life together, about facing whatever comes next as partners.
Because when Dimitri looks at me, I see my entire world.
Dimitri reaches into his jacket and pulls out a velvet box. He slides the diamond wedding band onto my finger with surprisingly steady hands. I do the same with the platinum band I chose for him—simple, strong, unbreakable.
When the officiant pronounces us married, the world seems to exhale. Dimitri reaches out to cup my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing my cheekbones. We just look at each other for a moment, letting the magnitude of what we just did settle between us.
When the officiant tells us we are now bound, I don’t feel caged…I feel free. His lips brush mine. It's not hard or urgent, just right.
The courtyard erupts in applause, cheers echoing off the estate's stone walls. Sasha squeals with delight. I hear Talia sniffling behind me, and when I glance over, I see Aleksandr's arm around her shoulders, keeping her steady while she cries happy tears.
Dimitri leans down, brushing his mouth against my ear. “You're mine now.”
I smile at him, this dangerous, complicated, beautiful man who somehow became my everything. “I always was.”
“Now what?” I whisper as we turn to face our guests.
“Now we celebrate,” he says.
Hand in hand, we walk back down the aisle together, past smiling faces and thrown rose petals, past the fountain where the floating roses shine in the afternoon light, and past the cypress trees whose lights twinkle like stars when darkness falls.
We are married. And for the first time, I’m not afraid of tomorrow. I’m looking forward to it.
Dimitri pulls me aside as we reach the edge of the garden, where the reception will soon begin. The sounds of celebration continue behind us, but it is just us in the shade of an old oak tree.
“Any regrets?” he asks, although his tone suggests he already knows the answer.
I look back at the scene we just left. Talia is organizing the children for photos, Aleksandr directs the staff who are already setting up for dinner, and Lev smiles as he talks to some other guests. Our family is chosen, claimed, and fought for.
Then I look up at my husband— my husband —and feel my heart fluttering, just as it has been doing since the day I met him.
“None,” I smile. “Not a single one.”
He kisses me again then, slower this time, deeper, with a promise that makes my knees weak and my pulse race. When we break apart, I rest my forehead against his.
“I love you, Mrs. Popov,” he purrs.
Mrs. Popov . The name will take some getting used to but hearing it from his lips makes it sound like the most beautiful word in any language.
“I love you too, Mr. Popov.”
As we walk toward our reception, toward the first night of the rest of our lives, I realize that I am someone new. Someone who belongs, who is loved, and who is brave enough to stay.
The blackbird on my wrist will always remind me where I came from. But the ring on my finger will remind me where I belong. With him. With this family. With this love that is strong enough to build a future on.
Forever.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35 (Reading here)
- Page 36
- Page 37