Beautiful destruction. Perfect chaos.
Our beginning written in fire, blood, and a yes.
32
LILA
I step out of the car.
The church gardens stretch out in front of me—white marble paths, trimmed hedges, gold domes catching the afternoon light like they're mocking me for showing up. It's a place you scroll past in photos and thinkWow, beautiful.Not somewhere you ever expect to walk into wearing a wedding dress.
Except here I am. Walking into it, getting married.
My stomach does that same rollercoaster drop it's been doing all morning. Hell, all week. Ever since Ivan said the date as if it were already carved in stone.
Three weeks. That's all it took. Three weeks from proposal to wedding day.
I'd heard Bratva weddings were fast—tradition, superstition, whatever. Something about not giving your enemies time to plan. I nodded when he told me, pretending to understand. But knowing it in theory and standing here now, in actual silk and lace, are two very different things.
The dress is black. Not symbolic black. Literal, unapologetic, funeral black.Ivan's idea, of course. His way of sayingshe's not like the rest—she's mine, and you can all choke on it.
It's gorgeous, honestly. Heavy and soft at once. I smooth the fabric like that's going to calm me down, but my hands won't stop shaking.
I tell myself it's excitement. Nerves. Maybe both. But there's this tiny voice in the back of my head whispering that it's not that at all—more likeholy shit, what am I doing?
And yeah. Fair question. This is insane.
The whole thing.
Meeting Ivan at the diner feels like years ago instead of months. Everything that happened after—the penthouse, Dmitri, the yacht, the burning harbor.
My stomach sinks.
Don't think about Dmitri. He's gone. Ash. Irrelevant.
Focus on now. On this moment. On the fact that I'm about to walk into that church and?—
"So, how does this work?"
Pyotr's voice cuts through my thoughts. I turn. He's standing there looking uncomfortable in his suit. It fits him properly for once, making him look less like a bodyguard and more like a normal person attending a wedding.
Right. Pyotr's walking me down the aisle.
I spent too much time overthinking that decision. The whole father-gives-away-daughter tradition when I don't have a father. Haven't had one in years. Mom's been gone even longer. No family left.
Ivan asked who I wanted. I didn't know what to say. I couldn't think of anyone.
Then Pyotr offered. Simple. No big speech. Just "I'll do it if you want."
Weird how he's become like a friend. Not long ago, he was the scary guard who wouldn't talk to me. Who stood outside my door. Who ate my food in front of me out of spite and made me shitty sandwiches.
Now he's here. In a suit. About to walk me down the aisle for my wedding to his boss.
Life is fucking weird.
"You sure about this?"
"Never been more sure."
