Page 66

September in Manhattan is pure chaos.

I’m rushing down the stairs of NYU, racing against the clock. I still have to pick up Eli from school, get my dress, change?—

“Ms. Winters!” One of my old professors runs up to me. “I just wanted to congratulate you on your return to NYU. Heard the admissions committee voted in your favor today. Can’t wait to see you back in my classroom!”

“Thank you,” I say, accepting his handshake. “Can’t wait to be back. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really need to?—”

“I remember when you first showed up,” he bulldozes over me with a wistful sigh. “So full of promise. I always knew you’d make your way back to…”

He launches himself on a leisurely stroll down memory lane. Normally, I wouldn’t mind it in the slightest, but today of all days, I’m on the most merciless timeline of all.

My wedding day’s.

By the time he finally lets me go, I’m not just late—I’m desperate. I’ll never make it in time. Why did the admissions committee have to pick today of all days? Is the universe still hell-bent on messing with my life, or am I just that unlucky?

Then I get to my car, and?—

“Oh, come on! ” I glare at the white behemoth parked askew right next to Rhonda the Honda, effectively blocking her in. A limousine—on the freaking curb of NYU. “Seriously?!”

Calm down, Mia. Deep breaths, Mia. You can’t risk jail today of all ? —

“Whose freaking car is this?!” I start yelling. “Who left this giant ass dildo here?! ‘Cause let me tell you, if you think it’s gonna compensate for anything, you’ve got another thing?—”

“What exactly should I be compensating for, kotyonok? ”

… coming.

I swallow. Hard.

Then I turn towards the voice, and?—

Oh. My. Abs.

As a general rule, Yulian looks like he’s been sculpted by the gods themselves. I thought I’d get over it, with time—the wow effect of his GQ stubble, lightning-in-a-bottle eyes, and cheesegrater eight-pack.

I was wrong.

So, so wrong.

I’m less “over it” than ever.

His hair is slicked back, dark and smooth as sin. His piercing gray gaze has me pinned, like I couldn’t move if I wanted to. Not that I particularly want to. After all, the view is pretty damn good.

His three-piece suit hugs him like it’s carved from marble. He’s wearing black—we decided I’d seen enough white and cream suits for a lifetime—and God above, if it doesn’t look spectacular on him… I’m dead serious. He should never be wearing anything else.

Well, except his birthday suit.

I let my eyes travel over his crisp shirt, so tight I can count the ridges in his rock-hard abs. His pants, pressed to perfection. His shoes, so shiny I can see myself reflected in them.

Then his cologne hits me, and I’m a goner.

I breathe in deeply. Notes of cedarwood and amber wrap around me, sinful and inviting.

Yes, I’m waxing poetic. But I feel like it’s a forgivable offense, considering how hot my husband-to-be is.

My husband-to-be. That thought makes the butterflies in my stomach go wild.

“Nothing.” I blurt the answer to his question without even remembering what it was. “Definitely, um. Not a thing.”

His perfect lips curl into a smirk. “Thought so.”

“Hi, Mommy!” Eli rolls down the window and waves at me from the backseat. In his arms, he’s holding a little pink bundle—his baby sister, Kira. “Did you get into school?”

Warmth spreads into every part of me. “I did.” I grin. “You’re looking at NYU’s freshest comeback student.”

“And hottest,” Yulian murmurs into my ear from behind.

A sweet shiver zaps down my spine. I desperately try to tamp down the surge of desire his husky voice makes me feel. “S-Shouldn’t you be at the venue?”

“Thought I’d give you the chance to change on the way.” His gaze grows darker. “For old times’ sake.”

“Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?”

“I don’t need luck.” He caresses my hand, trails the edges of the diamond on my finger. “I’ve already got you.”

Christ. If he doesn’t stop acting so much like—like himself, we might not make it to our own wedding after all.

Thank goodness he brought the kids.

Speaking of…

“Hey there, baby girl.” A little gurgle comes in response. “Having fun with your big brother? Has he been showing you all the sights?”

“I’m teaching her the names of all the colors!”

“Good boy.” I don’t point out it’s way too early for that. Just seeing them like this, acting like the best of buddies only three months after Kira’s birth, is enough to make me feel fuzzy all over. “She’ll be the smartest kid in pre-K.”

“I hope so. I don’t want her to get bullied.” Sadness flits through Eli’s eyes, but only for a second. “Not like…”

My heart clenches. “She won’t be.” I press a kiss to the top of his head, then Kira’s. “And I promise you won’t be, either. Ever again.”

“I know.” He gives me a small smile. “Ally and Marcus are nice. And Daddy already said he’ll have a talk with anyone who tries to bully me.”

“Did he, now?”

“He did.” It’s Yulian who answers. “No one gets to push my son around.”

“Hey, what happened to ‘ours’?”

“He’s in my car.” He shrugs. “Get in, and you can get your fifty percent back. But I’m demanding interest.”

“Oh?” I lean in. Yulian’s stubble grazes my cheek, lighting up that stray spark of desire again. “And what would that be?”

“More little ones.” He tilts my chin up. His grip is strong, yet gentle. “Until I’m satisfied.”

My knees turn to jelly. How can it still be like this? After all that’s happened, all we’ve done?—

How can it feel like the first time all over again?

Luckily, Eli yells out, “Ew! Gross! Don’t kiss!”

He covers Kira’s (already closed) eyes. I laugh. Yulian benevolently stops seducing me—for the time being.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

I don’t have to think about the answer. “Yes.” I smile. “Let’s do this.”

Let’s go say “yes” one last time.

“ Why did you put your wedding dress on in the car?!” Kallie gasps, horrified by the state of me.

“It’s not that bad,” I mutter. Sure, there’s a few creases here and there, and a suspiciously orange Cheez-It-smelling stain on a corner of my organza skirt. But all in all, I look pretty put together.

Compared to my scrubs, at least.

Nikita walks up to me. She’s wearing an uncharacteristically smug look, like she definitely knows something I don’t. “Alright, fine,” she sighs. “We were saving the surprise for the dance floor, but I guess an emergency’s an emergency. Bibbidi… bobbidi… boo!”

I can barely follow her movements. She starts working deftly at the small of my back, and then?—

My puffy skirt falls to the ground.

Or rather, the outer layer.

“One more tweak…” Nik pulls the corners close together, crosses them behind me. The now-smooth skirt, all pearly crepe, tightens around my hips, hugging them like a second skin.

She latches something—two secret buttons, by the looks of it—and then… “Voilà!”

I’m speechless. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. “How…?”

“Special gift from your bridesmaids,” Kallie winks. “Call us psychic, but between baby Kira and Eli’s passion for stain-prone snacks, we knew a wardrobe malfunction was more than likely.”

“We also have, like, three replacement dresses in there.” Nik points with her thumb to an enormous antique closet behind us. “Just in case.”

“The tailor was really nice,” Kallie adds. “Didn’t even ask for extra. Said she had too much fun with it to charge us.”

I can’t look away. Like, physically . “Remind me to send her a gift basket,” I mumble, too dazed to really think. “Guys, this is… incredible.” I can feel my eyes growing teary. “Thank you so?—”

“Oh, nope, nope, nope!” Kallie rushes to get tissues.

“No tears!” Nik orders in a panic. “Absolutely no tears! You just had your makeup done!”

“Who’s crying away her makeup?” Ginny asks from the doorway, coming back in with a freshly changed Kira in her arms. Then she sees me. “Oh, hell no. Now’s not the time to get emotional, Sis.”

“I’m getting married!” I yell. “I’m allowed to cry!”

“Absolutely not!” they reply in unison.

“Agreed,” Reese comments, walking in with a brimming jewelry case. “Think of your poor makeup artist. Do you want to give her a stroke?”

Somehow, being ganged up by all my bridesmaids at once manages to cure me of my tears. “I take it back,” I mutter. “You guys are awful.”

“That’s why you love us.” Kallie grins.

I do. I love them so much, if I let myself think about it, I’ll start crying all over again.

“Is the groom in position?” Nik asks into her receiver. It’s the same one I’ve seen her use on all of Yulian’s Bratva operations—I’m not sure how to feel about that. Then again, the pakhan ’s wedding probably requires top-notch security, too.

“Just landed,” Maksim confirms on the other end. “Had to change his shirt, though. Kirochka threw up on the other one.”

Figures. A smile bubbles up to my lips. Look at us—messy to the end.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Love isn’t clean. It isn’t the pristine white of new constructions or bleached hospital tiles. It’s a messy splash of color on a blank canvas, and no one else can decide what picture it’ll end up painting. No one but the people involved.

And this love story involves everyone here today.

I glance at my gown one more time. At a first glance, it might appear white, but the fabric shimmers with every step I take. Blush pink, pastel blue, soft lilac—a symphony of colors hidden in plain sight, almost like a rainbow.

“Look at the time!” Kallie gasps. “I’ve got to check on the cake. I’ll see you at the altar, okay?”

“I’ll help,” Reese says.

“I’ll come drop off this lovely little girl,” Ginny adds. “See you out there, Sis!”

Once everyone’s gone, Nikita bumps her shoulder with mine. “What do you say?” she smirks. “One last trip with me as your bodyguard? For old times’ sake?”

“Of course.” My smile turns bittersweet. “You’ve decided, then? You’re leaving?”

“Yup. Right after this.” She mimics tossing her receiver behind shoulder. “I only became Bratva to avenge my sister. Now that her killers are no longer around…”

“You’ll enjoy some hard-earned PTO?”

“Something like that.” Her gaze wanders around with a nostalgic air. I can’t blame her—we picked the Lozhkin mansion as our wedding venue. She must have many memories tied to it, some better than others. “Maybe I’ll try my hand at teaching. Wax on, wax off. Get some kiddos to call me sensei. ”

“But you’re Russian.”

“I have a Japanese great-grandmother.” She winks at me. “I’m a woman of the world, Nurse Winters. And soon, you’ll be, too.”

I roll my eyes with fondness. Yulian has planned the most lavish honeymoon known to mankind. He wants to see everything, and he wants to do it with me.

No—with us. Our family.

“I’ll miss you,” I complain.

“Me, too.” She squeezes my shoulder. “But…”

“I know, I know. You have to find your own path.” Privately, I can’t help but agree.

The Bratva life has been brutal on Nikita, especially over the last year.

And with her health still compromised by her kidnapping…

As her nurse, I can only recommend a good, long break from anything criminal. “But you’ll visit?”

“Oh, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” She flashes me a cheeky grin. “Kirochka’s gonna be spoiled rotten. To say nothing of Eli. I’ve already promised him a thousand ice creams when you guys return. And a Bond marathon.”

“He’ll love that.” I let her hook her arm through mine. “Lead the way, Miss Double-Oh-Seven.”

“The eagle is leaving the nest,” she says playfully into her receiver. “I repeat, the eagle is…”

We walk the rest of the way laughing. It’s a good distraction from the wild hammering of my heart, that much is for certain.

We step out onto the grounds.

Green grass grazes my ankles as I walk. Trees line the path, their leaves dotted with yellow and red, but still holding on to the vitality of summer.

Yulian worked tirelessly to restore this place inside and out, but most of his focus went to this portion of the estate, where he knew our wedding ceremony would be held.

It couldn’t be more beautiful.

“Break a leg,” Nikita encourages in my ear before letting go of my arm. “Though, you know. Not literally.”

I snort and wait for my dad to take over.

He’s not a man of many words, but he doesn’t need to speak to tell me how much this means to him. After losing each other for five years, he must have thought he might never get to see me like this. Wearing a wedding dress, getting married to the man I love.

But here we are. All thanks to Yulian.

My gaze meets his at the altar. He looks even better with his replacement shirt, all clad in midnight black. Someone might say it’s bad luck, but I say it suits him perfectly.

He’s given me so much. I fight against the tears, but it’s hopeless. He’s given me everything.

And I’ll give him everything, too.

The march starts playing. I take the first step across the aisle, on my dad’s arm, my mother’s eyes watering the whole time.

Eli is bouncing excitedly next to Maksim—Yulian’s best man—who’s holding a black velvet box in his hands with our rings in it.

The rest of my entourage is all up at the altar: my bridesmaids, by best friends in the world.

My family.

At the last step, Yulian offers me his hand. His comforting smell washes over me, cedarwood and amber and a thousand unbreakable promises. “Ready to do this, kotyonok? ”

I fight off a smile. “I’m ready.”

I’m ready to start our life together. To finally say “yes” to you.

To be yours.

I say it, and I am.