Because Sebastian knew I was alive. Knew about Kirill. Knew about the engagement.
And somewhere out there, he was planning his next move.
The thought should’ve terrified me. And it did. But standing there with Kirill’s arms around me, feeling his certainty and strength and absolute determination, I also felt something else.
Hope.
Real, genuine hope that maybe, just maybe, this nightmare could actually end.
That I could be free.
That we could survive this together.
For the first time in five years, I let myself believe it was possible.
Chapter 20 – Kirill
The wedding was nothing short of royal.
Barbara’s high society legacy and my Bratva bloodline had collided in the most spectacular way possible, a fusion of two worlds that should never have mixed but somehow created something beautiful in the chaos. The Davis estate had been transformed into something from a dream, every detail perfect, every element carefully chosen to represent both of us.
White roses and peonies lined the grand aisle, hundreds of them arranged in cascading displays that filled the air with their subtle fragrance. The chandeliers overhead dripped with crystals that caught the afternoon light and threw it across the assembled guests in patterns of rainbow fire. Sharply dressed men and women filled every seat—Bratva soldiers in tailored suits sitting beside society’s elite, corporate moguls sharing space with Vladimir’s inner circle.
The string quartet played something classical and beautiful that I didn’t recognize, but Barbara had insisted on. She’d gotten her obnoxious string quartet after all, though this one was actually talented, their music weaving through the space like a living thing.
I stood at the altar, hands clasped in front of me, trying not to fidget with the cufflinks Vladimir had given me this morning. Bratva symbols etched in platinum—a reminder of what I represented, what I was bringing Barbara into. The black-on-black tux fit perfectly, custom-tailored to accommodate the pistol holster hidden beneath my jacket.
Old habits. Even at my own wedding, I came armed.
Then the music changed, and everyone stood.
Barbara appeared at the entrance, and my breath stopped.
She looked ethereal. There was no other word for it. She wore a custom off-shoulder silk gown with a sweetheart neckline that made her look like something out of a fairy tale—elegant and timeless and absolutely stunning. The dress hugged her curves before flowing out into a train that seemed to go on forever. Her dramatic veil cascaded down her back, held in place by a crystal tiara that caught the light with every small movement.
But it was her face that destroyed me. The smile that transformed her features. The happiness radiating from her like sunlight. The way her honey-brown eyes found mine across the distance and held, promising everything.
Andrew walked her down the aisle, his expression unreadable but his hand steady on her arm. When they reached the altar, he placed her hand in mine with a single nod, the closest thing to a blessing I was going to get from him.
I didn’t care. Because Barbara was here. Was choosing this. Choosing me.
The ceremony blurred. The officiant spoke words I barely heard, too focused on Barbara’s face, on the way her hand trembled slightly in mine, on the tears gathering in her eyes that she kept blinking back. Vladimir stood as my best man, his presence a silent endorsement that carried weight in both our worlds. Hailey and Cassandra stood on Barbara’s side, both of them openly crying.
Then came the vows.
“I, Kirill Petrov….” My voice came out steady despite the emotion threatening to choke me. “Take you, Barbara Davis, to be my wife. To have and to hold from this day forward. For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health. To love and to cherish, until death do us part.”
The traditional words felt insufficient. Didn’t capture what I actually wanted to promise her—that I’d destroy anyonewho tried to hurt her, that I’d burn the world down to keep her safe, that she’d never be alone again as long as I drew breath.
But they’d have to do.
Barbara’s voice shook as she repeated her own vows, and I watched tears finally spill over, tracking down her cheeks. I wanted to reach up and brush them away, but the officiant hadn’t gotten to that part yet, so I just held her hands tighter and let her see everything I felt reflected in my eyes.
“By the power vested in me—” The officiant’s voice seemed to come from very far away. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
I didn’t wait for him to finish the sentence. Just pulled Barbara close and kissed her with everything I had, every promise I couldn’t voice, every emotion I didn’t have words for, every piece of my soul that now belonged to her.
The crowd melted. I heard applause, heard people crying, heard Vladimir’s rare laugh and Timur’s whistle. But it all faded into background noise because Barbara was kissing me back with the same desperate intensity, her hands fisting in my jacket, her body pressed against mine like she could somehow get closer despite the layers of fabric between us.
