When it’s done, the final words are spoken, sealing it.
A shift.
Permanent.
I turn slightly, my hand still holding hers as I address the room.
“Valeria Petrova,” I say, my voice carrying easily, “is now Valeria Rusnak.”
The name settles into the space like something solid.
Like it belongs.
The hall breaks into a loud round of applause.
We step down from the stage together.
And just like that, the structure of the ceremony dissolves into movement.
Valeria barely has time to adjust before Ellie is already there, sweeping her away with an energy that cuts through the heaviness of the moment.
I watch it happen. Watch as Valeria turns toward her and smiles. A bright, sunny smile. She hugs Ellie tightly, and Ellie laughs, pulling her along toward the other Rusnak wives, who are already waving, calling her over, and welcoming her without hesitation.
Valeria goes with them.
Just like that.
And I stand there for a second longer than necessary, watching her disappear into them.
“With how stubborn you were about protecting Valeria, I’m still shocked you went ahead to marry her.”
Irritation sparks in my chest as I turn to see Mike smirking at me. The others are with him—Dimitri already reaching for a drink, Konstantin watching with interest, Sebastian quieter, more observant.
Dimitri presses a glass into my hand. I take it without looking away from Mike.
“I already explained why this has to happen,” I say flatly. “It was her idea. And it made sense.”
Mike hums, lifting his glass to his lips to hide another smirk.
Of course, he doesn’t believe that’s the full story.
He’s not wrong.
“Anton is tearing Moscow apart as we speak, looking for her,” Sebastian cuts in, his tone more serious. “After this ceremony, he’ll know she’s with us. We need to prepare for the backlash.”
My grip tightens slightly around the glass.
“I’m aware,” I start—
Then I see Lukyan.
Across the room.
Moving toward us.
Everything else fades into the background for a second.
Black suit. Same quiet, brooding presence. People try to stop him, greet him, speak to him—but he brushes past them like they don’t exist.
