Page 52 of The Bratva Enforcer and His Virgin Bride

His fingers close around mine.

Warm.

Steady.

Completely certain.

And before I can overthink it, he’s guiding me into place beside him as the ceremony begins.

Thankfully, it doesn’t drag on.

I spend most of it trying not to think about the fact that I am standing beside a man I barely know while a priest binds our lives together with a few carefully chosen words.

The vows come.

The signatures.

The blessings.

And then it’s over.

Just like that.

One moment, I’m Sofia Morozova.

The next, according to a piece of paper and the laws of several countries, I’m Sofia Rusnak.

The thought makes me slightly nauseous.

What surprises me most is when the priest closes his book and announces us husband and wife without ever asking Lukyan to kiss me.

I don’t know if someone deliberately removed that part of the ceremony or if the priest simply sensed that neither of us would appreciate the spectacle.

Either way, relief rushes through me.

The last thing I want is to be forced into a kiss in front of an audience.

Especially with him.

The guests begin applauding.

I barely hear them.

My mind is still trying to catch up to what just happened.

Then Lukyan reaches for my hand.

My attention drops to where our fingers touch.

His hand completely swallows mine. They’re large and cold. I suppress a shiver.

“Let me introduce you to my family.”

I glance up at him. “I’ve already met half of them.”

One dark eyebrow lifts. “As Valeria’s best friend, yes?”

“Yes.”