Page 134 of Reclaimed By My Ex’s Bratva Brother

"You forgot 'loves gossip.'"

"That's a complimentary service." Winnie grinned.

Rory hung the open sign by the door. Makar walked in carrying cake. Gleb followed with an absurdly heavy espresso machine.

"What's this?" I asked.

Gleb looked at Varlam.

Varlam stood outside, hands in his coat pockets, expression calm.

"Opening gift."

"I said no expensive gifts."

"Not expensive."

"That machine costs as much as a car," Makar scoffed.

Varlam shot him a cold look.

"You can shut up."

"It's your wife's turf today. You don't give orders here."

"He's right," I said.

Makar immediately smirked triumphantly.

Varlam walked over and looked down at me.

"May I ask you to accept it?"

I made him wait two seconds.

"Yes."

He kissed the corner of my mouth.

"Thank you."

The room suddenly went silent.

"He actually says thank you." Winnie clutched her chest.

"He also apologizes now," Gleb said flatly, setting the machine on the counter.

Makar's cake was neatly divided into six pieces.

"Congratulations, boss," he said.

The studio's first client wanted to get married in an old library. The second couple didn't want flowers—just the seventeen stray cats they'd adopted together. The third bride used a wheelchair and wanted an aisle she could navigate alone without anyone's help.

I made it happen for all of them.

Every wedding was different. Some needed grand lighting, some just wanted to exchange rings in a kitchen. Some walked toward love with complete families behind them, others had no one—but still chose to believe in the future.

I didn't design perfection.