Page 55 of Crystal Veil

The music shifts to something slower, more intimate, and Renat pulls me closer. I can feel the steady beat of his heart against my chest and smell the subtle cologne he wears mixed with the salt air. His hand finds the small of my back as he holds me.

“I have something for you,” he murmurs, reaching into his jacket pocket. He pulls out a small velvet box.

“Renat, you already gave me the ring?—”

“This is different,” he interrupts, opening the box to reveal a delicate gold bracelet. “It was my mother's. The only thing of hers I managed to save before my stepmother burned everything.

The bracelet is beautiful, a thin chain with a single charm of a small Orthodox cross studded with tiny diamonds. It's elegantand meaningful, a connection to the woman who gave him life and loved him before she was taken away.

“I want you to have it,” he continues. “I want you to wear it and know that you're carrying her blessing with you. She would have loved you, Elena. She would have seen in you what I see. Your strength, compassion, and fire.”

Tears burn behind my eyes as he fastens the bracelet around my wrist. It's perfect, settling against my skin like it was made for me. Combined with my mother's locket, I feel surrounded by the love of the women who came before us, the mothers who shaped us into who we are.

“Thank you,” I whisper, touching the cross gently. “This means everything to me.”

He lifts my hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my palm. “You mean everything to me,” he replies. “You and—” He pauses, his hand moving to rest gently over my stomach. “Both of you.”

The gesture is so tender and protective that I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. No one else can see where his hand rests, hidden by the flowing fabric of my dress, but I feel the warmth of his palm through the lace.

“I can’t wait to see you in a bikini,” he murmurs. “Nothing sexier than my pregnant wife, half naked on the beach.”

Thinking of our honeymoon sends a warm flutter through me. Two weeks in a private villa on a secluded island, just the two of us and the vast ocean. No work, no chaos, no threats from rival families. Just us, learning to be husband and wife.

As the evening winds down, our guests begin to drift away, offering hugs and well-wishes before disappearing into thenight. Amelia is the last to leave, squeezing me tightly and whispering promises to text me every day while I'm gone.

“Take care of her,” she tells Renat, her voice serious despite the champagne she's consumed. “She's my best friend, my sister. If anything happens to her?—”

“Nothing will happen to her,” he assures her. “I swear it on my life.”

Finally, we're alone on the beach, the reception area being quietly cleaned up by the staff. The chapel stands empty now, its purpose fulfilled, but somehow it seems even more beautiful in the moonlight.

“Come,” Renat murmurs, taking my hand. “Let's walk.”

We stroll along the water's edge, our feet leaving prints in the wet sand. The moon is full, spilling a silver path across the waves. They wash over our feet, cool and refreshing, and I close my eyes, committing the moment to memory. When I open them again, he's watching me with such intensity that it makes me gasp

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you too. More than I ever thought possible.”

He kisses me, soft and sweet, a promise of all the tomorrows we'll share. When we finally part, he rests his forehead against mine, and we stand there in the moonlight, two souls who found their home in each other.

EPILOGUE

RENAT

The world shifts in a heartbeat. One moment, Elena is laughing beside me in the garden. Next, her fingers dig into my wrist, and her breath catches. I glance at her belly, swollen and round beneath the soft blue fabric of her dress, and something primal tightens in my chest.

“Elena?” I murmur, my eyebrows snapping together with worry.

She winces. “I think…” Her eyes widen, one hand pressing to her belly. “My water just broke.”

The world stills, then it explodes into motion.

Artur appears before I can call for him. He's already reaching for the phone, barking orders into the receiver. The others move quickly, as if on autopilot. I trained them that way. But I don't care about procedures right now. I don't care about security formations or the hospital route that we mapped out months ago.

All I care about is the woman clinging to my arm, breathing through pain with more strength than I've ever seen.

“I've got you,dushenka,” I murmur, guiding her toward the waiting SUV. “You're okay.”