Page 63

YULIAN

The Goldenrod’s gardens aren’t in bloom right now, but they might as well be.

Because Mia makes everything around her look alive.

She steps out into the grounds with wide eyes, her royal blue dress puffing as she twirls. “This is…”

Beautiful. Not the gardens, not the decorations— her. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted and didn’t know I needed.

And tonight, she might die.

I took every precaution. Picked a terrain I was comfortable with, one I know like the back of my hand. My men have secured this place a thousand times before. Tonight, I’ve tasked the best soldier I know with their leadership, the quickest draw and smartest head.

“How’s Nikita doing?” I whisper to Maksim as we let the girls overtake us.

“She’s practically performed a colonoscopy on this place. Every exit is as secure as Fort Knox.”

“Fort Knox was broken into.”

“Yeah, by her. And they still haven’t got a clue.”

I shake my head and check my phone. No messages from her. Her GPS is green and bright on the map, along with everybody else’s, a sea of dots guarding us from the inside and out. We’ve never had security this strong in the history of the Lozhkin Bratva.

Which is exactly what makes me so fucking nervous.

“Relax,” Maksim murmurs. “You’ll give yourself away like this.”

I hate that he’s right.

Slowly, I exhale and force myself to regain control. The worst thing I can do right now is bleed my anxiety onto Mia. If she catches my worry—if she demands an explanation—then I’m fucked.

She won’t be satisfied with half-answers. She’ll demand the truth.

And I can never give her that.

“Yulian!” Mia calls. “Come take a look at this!”

I stride into the garden. My men are already buzzing around, excited about the ceremony, but they all give Mia and Kallie a respectful berth.

Predictably, Nikita is nowhere to be seen.

“Look!” Mia grins, pointing excitedly at a tree branch. “I’ve never seen a fruit like this before. What do you think it is?”

I pick the round, brownish fruit from the branch. “Foxish pear,” I answer. “It’s not native to here. The Goldenrod prides itself on its orchard of ancient fruit.”

“That sounds like such a rich people thing to do.”

“It is.” My lips curve without my permission. I’ve never met someone as painfully honest as Mia—not as long as I’ve lived. “Want a bite?”

“Wait, it’s edible? ”

“It’s fruit. It’s not there to be looked at.”

Then I push the pear towards her lips.

She hesitates for a moment, but then opens her mouth. I watch her with rapt eyes as she bites into the pulp, her face going from uncertain to delighted. Her throat bobs as she swallows.

“It’s sweet,” she whispers, licking the juice off her lips.

If it weren’t for the crowd, I would have pushed her up against the tree trunk and started fucking her already. Everything she does, even something as innocent as eating fruit, has the power to draw out the worst, most primal instincts in me.

I’m not sure I dislike it.

She finishes off the pear in a couple of bites. “What do I do with this?” She dangles the core. “Do I just—toss it?”

“Yes,” I tell her. “But first…”

I pull her to me and kiss her. The sweet taste of the pear lingers on her lips, but it’s her own I’m after. Her unique, addictive taste.

Soon, whistles and whoops rise around us. I distinctly recognize Kazimir’s voice starting the “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” chant.

“Hate to interrupt, lovebirds.” Maksim clears his throat. “But it’s time. Should we kick off the ceremony?”

I don’t want to part from her, but I can’t stay glued to Mia all night, no matter how badly I wish I could. The sooner we get this over with, the better.

“Let’s.”

“Good luck,” Mia whispers against my lips. “I’m really curious to see what this infamous swearing-in ceremony is about.”

“The good part’s after that,” I rumble. “When I tell the world.”

We’ve decided to get married a week from now, in a small private ceremony.

We’ll have a big wedding afterwards, but getting the bureaucracy out of the way will allow me to start the adoption process immediately.

This way, when we celebrate publicly, Eli will already be under my protection, and Brad won’t be able to do shit.

And a week from now, Mia will be untouchable.

What makes you so confident? the cold voice inside me sneers. You’ve been avoiding marriage exactly because of the target it’d paint on your wife’s back. Now, you’re marrying Mia to protect her. Isn’t that ridiculous?

“Things are different now,” I mutter under my breath. Before, I didn’t know my enemies were leaving. I thought they’d always be sticking around, in the shadows, waiting for me to find happiness again before snatching it right out from under me.

Now, it’s only a matter of time before I’m free of them.

And until I am, I’m not letting Mia out of my sight.

“Recruits!” I call from the stage.

Six men walk up to me, standing at attention, their nerves palpable. A couple of them are older, but most are barely out of boyhood—caught in this life by the harshness of the world. My Bratva will give them a place to sleep, food to eat, strength to protect what they love.

Most of all, it will give them purpose.

I beckon the first one from the left. He walks up to me on unsteady legs and kneels at my feet.

“Do you swear your loyalty to the Lozhkin Bratva?” I demand.

“Yes.”

“Do you swear your loyalty to your comrades?”

“Yes.”

“Do you swear your loyalty to me?”

“Yes, moy pakhan! ”

I make a mental note to change up the oath. After tonight, these men will no longer be swearing themselves to me alone. Mia will be their pakhansha— they must vow to obey her as much as me.

I get out my pocket knife, hold it under the flame, and make a small cut on the tip of my left thumb. Then I push it onto my ring on the opposite hand, where the Lozhkin sigil gleams.

I press the sigil to the recruit’s forehead. “I accept you as my brother in arms,” I recite.

“ Spasibo, pakhan. ”

“ Vstavat’. ”

He obeys my command and rises.

Recruit after recruit kneels before me. I search Mia’s gaze in the crowd to see her reaction. This isn’t a particularly violent ceremony, but it’s still intrinsically Bratva. Will she approve? Or will she be disgusted by the man she’s about to marry?

But when I meet her blue eyes at the front of the crowd, it’s not disgust I see.

She’s smiling. No, not just that—she’s beaming.

With pride. For me.

I know, at that moment, I will never love anyone as much as her.

The last recruit receives his mark. As he blends back into the rest of my men, who welcome him with claps on the shoulders and open arms, I straighten myself on the stage.

Then I gesture for Mia to join me.

She hesitates, but takes my outstretched hand after a heartbeat. “Am I getting marked, too?” she jokes.

“Not unless you want to.”

“I mean, it feels a little unsanitary, but?—”

I silence her with a kiss.

That’s it. That’s our announcement.

When she parts from me, breathless and surprised, I address the crowd.

“You have all heard of my engagement,” I say.

“But you’ve all thought it was business.

That it was the CEO of StarTech Industries who was getting married.

” I take Mia’s hand in mine. “Tonight, I’m here to tell you that’s not the case. ”

She draws herself up towards me. I haven’t told her to do it, but she knows. She understands how important it is to project strength.

“Next week, you’ll have a new pakhansha, ” I rumble. “Mia Winters. My fiancée—and soon to be my wife.”

Then I take out the ring.

It’s not the most romantic proposal in the universe. It’s a rite—a tradition.

But Mia still looks like the happiest woman in the world.

She drinks in the sight of the ring in my hand. A flawless, round-cut diamond, easily five carats, sits on a platinum band lined with smaller stones.

My mother’s ring. The only thing they could salvage from her.

Mia offers her hand, eyes wide and shiny with tears. Her smile is watery, wobbly, but certain. It makes that old muscle in my chest flare back to life, start pumping blood again, after twenty years of dormancy.

I slide the ring onto her finger.

And then it’s done. We’re engaged. Officially.

Just in time for the gunshots to ring out.