When he pulled back, I was breathless. Melted.
And just as quickly as the kiss was over, we were rushed to the sacristy behind the altar. Luca handed us some pens. Documents appeared. I barely glanced at them before signing—church papers, civil papers, mafia papers? Who knew? My hand moved on instinct.
Aria hugged me tight. “You did great.”
Luca kissed both my cheeks. “Welcome to the family, bella.”
And then they were gone.
Nik took my hand and led me outside. Rory was waiting with the Bentley again, holding the door open.
Once we were seated inside and the doors were shut, silence fell.
Nik slipped his arm around me, pulling me in against his side. I didn’t resist.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
My lips rolled in as my eyes locked onto my ring, which was now catching glints from the street light. “I don’t know.”
He squeezed my shoulder. “You did beautifully.”
I wasn’t sure if he was being genuine or was praising me for not passing out in front of the priest.
Nik reached for something.
Pop.
The sound of a cork startled me.
He poured champagne into two flutes he pulled from a hidden compartment beneath the seat.
“To my wife,” he said, with that devil’s smirk, “and the body I’ll memorize tonight—inch by inch, moan by moan.”
I took my champagne and drank it in one go.
He blinked. “Easy, Mrs. Volkov. You trying to pass out on your wedding night?”
I held out the glass without a word.
He refilled it, smiling.
And I drank that one too.
I barely registered the motion of the car slowing until Rory was at the door again, holding it open. Before I could ask where we were, Nik whisked me out into the cool night air.
The sharp scent of disinfectant hit my nose just before I caught sight of the flickering neon sign.
A tattoo parlor.
At this hour?
I blinked up at the glowing glass and back at Nik, who was already pushing the door open like he owned the place.
“Nik?” I asked warily, stumbling slightly in my heels.
“Come on, wife,” he said without explanation.
Inside, the place was all black leather and silver fixtures. Clean and sterile. A man behind the counter looked up from his sketchbook and grinned.
