Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
A tear rolls down her cheek.
“I don’t want you to do this because you feel guilty.”
“I’m doing this because I love you,” I say simply. “Because I love our child. Because some things matter more than power.”
Her breath catches. “You really love me?”
“I never stood a fucking chance,” I tell her, reaching up to stroke her cheek. “And it’s too late to save myself now.”
She laughs despite her tears. “I love you, too,” she whispers.
Her words nearly knock the air out of my lungs. I take her face in both hands and kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her trembling lips.
“I want us to be a family,” I murmur against her mouth. “If you’ll still have me.”
She nods quickly and fiercely, like these are the words she’s been waiting to hear her whole life.
“Of course I will,” she says through tears.
I pull her into my arms, pressing my forehead to hers. A long silence stretches between us, but it isn’t uncomfortable. It’s warm and full of all the love we have for each other and all the words we aren’t sure how to say. She wipes her tears on the back of her wrist, and I kiss the spot gently before she can hide the gesture.
“So what happens now?” she whispers after several moments.
I can’t hold back my smile.
“Now we get married,” I say simply.
Her eyes shoot up in shock. “Married? When?”
“Today,” I tell her, because suddenly I can’t wait another fucking second. “If that’s all right with you.”
She blinks fast. A laugh bubbles out of her, watery but genuine. “Are you trying to make an honest woman out of me?” she teases.
“Yes,” I say excitedly. “And I’ll marry you anywhere, at any time. So why not today?”
She bites her lip. “We would need a ring.”
I stand up, grab my phone, and text a man who owes me.
“I know a jeweler.”
She laughs, wiping her eyes again. “Of course you do.”
“Come on,” I tell her, checking my phone and texting said jeweler. “If we get ready now, we can be there within the hour.”
She smiles softly.
“I should probably call Kelly.” She laughs. “I’ll need a bridesmaid, especially if I’m picking a wedding dress this morning.”
I kiss her again, slow and deliberate.
“So we’re doing this?” I confirm happily.
“We’re doing this,” she echoes.
Later that morning, we’re standing hand in hand in front of a glass case of rings. The jeweler is a tiny man with a massive mustache and a thicker accent than mine. When he sees me and realizes what I’m buying, he nearly falls over in surprise.
“Samuil Volkov getting married,” he says reverently. “I never thought I’d see the day. She must be a very special girl.”
Molly blushes at his words.
“She is,” I agree.
She tries on several rings. They’re all beautiful, but it’s an oval diamond set in a platinum band that makes her breath catch.
“That’s the one,” I say instantly.
She looks at me. “No, this is way too much,” she says. “I just wanted to try it.”
“Molly,” I say sternly. “Does this ring make you happy? Do you think you could wear it every day for the rest of your life?”
Her face flushes and she smiles brightly. “I could,” she finally admits.
“Then that’s the one,” I say, turning to the jeweler to confirm.
He claps and I slip him my credit card.
From there, we split up briefly. I leave Molly with her stunned best friend, who can’t believe she’s getting married to a former Bratva boss. I make sure they have security guards with them as they go dress shopping, and I meet Davýd so we can pick out a tux. It’s not ideal to get it off the rack, but I don’t want to wait another moment.
Two hours later, we’re all pulling up at the courthouse. Anya arrives with her nanny, wearing a white dress and a ribbon in her hair. She carries a basketful of rose petals and smiles brightly when she lays eyes on Molly.
The judge is an acquaintance who owes me a favor. He promises all the paperwork will be expedited. He laughs when he sees Anya and murmurs to me that he’s never had a flower girl at his courthouse before.
Davýd pulls out his phone and plays soft music. Anya throws the petals straight up into the air, showering herself in pink and giggling.
Molly walks down “the aisle” to me, and I take her shaking hands.
“I love you,” I tell her again, because I need her to hear it out loud as often as I can say it.
She squeezes my fingers.
“I love you, too.”
We exchange vows, sign the papers, and kiss to the small applause of our assembled group.
It’s a simple ceremony. She deserves so much more, and maybe one day I’ll give her that, but even so, she looks so radiant and so happy. None of it compares to the joy radiating in my chest.