“Because Vasilisa wants everything perfect for tomorrow, and her garland shipments were delayed.” I gesture to the mountain of boxes. “I had them retrieved, but now I need to make sure everything is hung correctly before she wakes up.”
Luna stares at me for a long moment, then bursts into laughter.
It’s sharp and sudden, like the sound cracked the tension in the room.
“You—” she starts, still chuckling. “You actuallydidsend made men to intercept boutique garland shipments in a snowstorm, I thought Nico made that up. And now you’re running a midnight decorating operation because Vasilisa might wake up disappointed?”
I blink. “Yes.”
She wipes a tear from under one eye. “Wow, she really did get arranged to the right man.”
“She did,” I agree without hesitation.
Her smile softens. “Okay. Let’s make magic.”
She starts giving orders—sharp, efficient,terrifying. Within minutes, Romeo’s untangling lights like he’s solving a puzzle,Enzo is color-sorting ribbon piles, Marco is organizing ornaments by size and Nico is fluffing artificial snow garland with a delicacy I didn’t know he possessed.
I move beside Luna and lower my voice. “There’s something else.”
She looks up tilting her head.
“The garden. I want it decorated too.”
“Why?”
“I’m proposing to Vasilisa tomorrow after dinner.”
Luna squeaks with excitement the men freeze.
“Shh,” I hush her looking up toward the stairs. “You’ll wake her.”
“Sorry, sorry,” she says with a sheepish smile, “but she will love that, it’s likethe onebig thing she’s sad she never got.”
I nod slowly, my jaw tight.
I know.
She’s never said it directly, not in a way she thought I’d catch. But I saw it. In the way she looked at Mimi’s online mood board when she thought I wasn’t paying attention. In how she lingered over proposal videos. In the way her voice went quiet when someone mentioned the word fiancée, and she had to skip straight to wife.
I never gave her that moment. I took it. For strategy. For alliance. For control.
And she never held it against me.
But I do.
“I would’ve hired someone,” I murmur, almost to myself. “But it felt wrong. Felt like she deserved more than a team of strangers making things beautiful for her. I wanted to be the one who did it.”
Luna doesn’t speak right away. Then gently: “She’ll see all of this and know. She already knows, Santo. But this? It’ll seal it.”
I nod once, swallowing the knot in my throat. “She deserves effort. Not just money. Not just power.Me.My time. My hands on every garland strand.”
She smiles. “Then let’s get to work.”
***
Four hours later, I stand in the center of the garden, hands raw from the cold, exhaustion weighing on my shoulders. But it’s done.
The house is transformed, garland drapes every banister, wraps around every column, frames every doorway. The foyer tree stands proud and perfect, adorned with ornaments that catch the light just right. Wreaths hang on every door, and twinkle lights cast a warm, golden glow throughout.
