Page 89 of Prey of the Bratva

“Shall we begin?” the officiator asked, and both of us nodded.

“Today we have gathered here to celebrate…” The ceremony began, words were spoken, formalities observed, but I barely registered them. My focus stayed exactly where it had been from the moment I saw him. On him. On us. When it came time for vows, the air changed because this was the part that mattered. Kliment went first. He didn’t reach for a paper but just looked at me.

“I spent most of my life believing control was strength,” he said, voice steady, carrying easily across the quiet. “That if I held everything tightly enough, nothing could break.”

A faint shift moved through the crowd. Subtle. Listening.

“I was wrong.”

That alone would have been enough to shock half the people present. He didn’t stop.

“You didn’t challenge that belief,” he continued. “You destroyed it. Quietly and completely and without even asking for permission.”

A faint smile tugged at my lips.

“That should have made you a threat,” he said. “It should have made you someone I needed to eliminate. Instead, it made you everything I couldn’t look away from.”

My breath caught, just slightly.

“You walked into darkness without fear,” he said, voice lowering just enough that it felt more intimate. “Not because you thought you would win, but because you believed it was worth fighting.”

He stepped closer.

“I have seen power,” he continued. “I have commanded it. Built it. Broken it. But I have never seen anything like you, Misha Chernykh.”

The silence deepened.

“I don’t promise you peace,” he said. “Because that isn’t who we are.”

A soft huff of laughter slipped from somewhere behind me. Probably Zhenya.

“I don’t promise you safety,” he added. “Because I know you would never accept it at the cost of who you are.”

His grip on my hand tightened slightly.

“But I promise you this—”

His gaze locked onto mine, unwavering.

“I will stand beside you. Not in front of you. Not above you. Beside you. In everything. Always.” Something inside my chest tightened, sharp and real.

“I will fight with you when you need it,” he said. “And I will trust you when you don’t.”

That one hit deeper than anything else.

“I will not cage you,” he continued quietly. “I will not diminish you. And I will never ask you to become smaller so I can feel larger.”

The world felt very, very still.

“You are not something I have conquered,” he finished. “You are someone I chose. And I will keep choosing you. Every time. In every version of whatever comes next.”

Everyone remained silent, still processing everything he had said, and then it was my turn.

“I grew up surrounded by power,” I said, my voice steady, clear. “By men who believed protection meant control. By a world that told me exactly what I was supposed to be, and I ignored most of it.”

A quiet ripple of amusement moved through the crowd.

“Because I never wanted to be safe,” I continued. “I wanted to be capable.”