“My cock will miss them dearly,” I manage, “but I understand.”
“And if I hear even a hint about another woman,” she adds coldly, “I will hunt her to the ends of the earth and murder her. Slowly. So I suggest you think very carefully before even glancing at someone else.”
“The only woman I plan to stare at for the rest of my life is you,dusha moya,” I vow, brushing a soft kiss to the tip of her nose.
“Good,” she says. “I’m glad we understand each other.”
My grin stretches ear to ear.
Then Sasha clears his throat, reminding us that we’re not alone in this kitchen.
Blyad.
Here Stella and I were, making oaths and promises, while my brother was still drowning in a grief too heavy for words.
I release her at once, guilt flooding in, ready to apologize to him for my insensitivity, when Misha surprises us all by speaking for the first time in days, in a calm tone.
“Yesli lyubov’ ne bezumna, to eto ne lyubov’.”
Every single one of us freezes as Misha slowly rises from his seat. He doesn’t look at any of us. He doesn’t have to. He pulls his gaze from the window one last time… and walks out of the room.
“What did he just say?” Stella whispers, sliding her hand into mine.
“He said…When love is not madness, then it is not love.”
And God help us, but no truer words were ever spoken.
Epilogue
Kirill
One year later.
I am a grown man. ABratvaunderboss. I have killed people with my bare hands.
Yet somehow, tonight, I am sneaking through my own hangar like a teenager trying not to wake his parents up just so he could go to some party.
Only I’m not going to any party.
I’m getting married.
“Stop looking so goddamn suspicious,” Stella whisper-yells beside me. “You’re acting like you’ve never been here.”
I don’t bother pointing out that she doesn’t look any less inconspicuous by dragging a suspiciously long white garment bag behind her like it’s a guilty conscience.
“You’re leaving a trail,milaya,” I mutter instead. “Give me that.”
She lifts the bag higher for me to grab and lets out a huff. “Relax. It’s not like anyone is going to think, ‘Oh look, there goesaBratvaunderboss and an Outfit enforcer on their way to get hitched in Vegas without letting their families know.’”
“Not only is that extremely specific.” I give her a playful look. “But it’s literally what we’re about to do.”
Her mouth curves in that way that always gets me into trouble. “Details.” She winks, causing my heart to flutter in my chest.
The hangar lights wash everything in a cold, white glow, while also somehow making my woman have this ethereal radiance about her.
“Stop staring!” She giggles, using her free hand to grab my chin and direct my attention somewhere else.
Though she didn’t do it on purpose, my gaze lands on the jet that awaits for us near the far end of the building, polished and perfect, the Petrov crest gleaming near its tail. Inside I know that there is only the pilot and co-pilot present. No security. No brothers. NoPakhan. No fucking witnesses.
