I blink. “A promise?”
He steps closer, thumb brushing a stray curl from my face with surprising tenderness. “You said you wanted a partner,” he reminds me quietly.
My throat tightens.
“So I won’t stand up there and wait like you’re something being delivered to me,” he continues. “We walk down together. Side by side.”
For weeks I’ve been bracing myself for this to feel like a performance, like another strategic move dressed up in white and gold, but this… this feels like us. Like something stubbornly human and soft in the middle of all the chaos we live in.
A rush of affection swells in my chest so fast it almost hurts.
“You’re ridiculous,” I whisper, blinking back sudden tears.
His hand slides into mine, warm and steady, grounding me.
Then his gaze shifts past my shoulder. “There is something else.”
I turn.
Liev stands a few feet away near the wall, hands shoved awkwardly into his pockets like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He looks out of place in his dark suit, broad and intimidating and strangely unsure, like a kid who wandered into the wrong room.Thisis the father I always imagined and never wanted—a sharp, dark, dangerous man.
But he’s been different this last month. Softer, somehow.
He calls more. Checks on me. Shows up with groceries as if the staff doesn’t shop, and pretends it’s nothing. He still argues with Kaz like they’re two old wolves circling each other, but there’s less bite in it now.
He finally wrapped his head around me.
Around us.
Kaz’s thumb strokes the back of my hand. “Would you be okay if he walked with us too?” he asks gently.
My chest squeezes. For so long I told myself I didn’t need my father, that it was easier not to expect anything from him, but seeing him standing there now—nervous, hopeful, trying—cracks something open inside me.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “I’d like that.”
Liev looks up when I nod at him, surprise flashing across his face before he covers it with a gruff little cough. We fall into place without talking about it.
Kaz on my right. Liev on my left.
Me in the middle.
The cream-colored gown hugs my curves without squeezing, soft fabric flowing around my hips and down my legs, the bodice comfortable instead of punishing. I feel likeme.
Like a woman who chose this.
The doors open, and the low murmur of guests fades into silence. We start walking, moving forward together, and when we reach the front and Liev reluctantly steps aside, Kaz leans close, his voice barely brushing my ear.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs. “Especially like this. Especially with my child.”
Heat floods my face, but the way he says it—proud, possessive in that dark, tender way that’s only ever for me—makes my heart stutter.
It’s funny how little the ceremony itself matters. I spend the entire time staring into Kaz’s face—the hard lines of it, the teasing hint of tattoos. The silver just beginning to touch his hair. His eyes on mine. The priest tells us we’re married, and we share a joyful kiss, smiling into it, half-aware of our guests.
“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” he asks on the ride to the reception—an outdoor venue he’s rented out, a beautiful open pasture curated to the tastes of a billionaire Bratva leader. He’s referring to the fact that our honeymoon will be brief, and we’ll be leaving for it tonight; likely close to midnight, when this party is over. If I’m not already napping in a corner somewhere.
“It’s fine,” I insist, “really. I have to say… I’m more interested in meeting another Bratva wife than lazing around the south of France.”
Kaz smiles, but his eyes are wary. In less than a week we’ll fly to Maine to negotiate with his new partner—a man I’ve heard whisper of, who they call “The Bear.” I’m not sure what a nickname like that signifies, but Devin has gossiped that the wife has her own ambitions and is making headway in the environmental sector. I’m curious, to say the least.
