She belongs to me now, and I protect what’s mine with everything I have.
I park in front of a squat limestone-and-steel building tucked between deserted storefronts. The two escorting SUVs flank mine and I nod to the men in front as I open my door. On the building, the windows are blacked out. A small sign declaring, “Legal Services” hangs above the entrance.
Liza’s hands are ice cold when I usher her from the car. I rub them between mine and then place a gentle but firm hand on her lower back as we walk toward the entrance. It swings open and an armed guard inside nods at me. I’ve been here before, so he recognizes me, but he’s also been notified of our arrival by myboeviks, my crew.
We climb cold marble stairs and I lead Liza down a corridor that smells faintly of bleach. At the end, Jim Kertzer waits in the open door of his office. He’s a Bratva-friendly lawyer and sometimes fixer. Tonight, he’s our wedding officiant.
Kertzer studies me with cynical eyes, and then glances at Liza. His gaze softens a little. “You ready?”
I squeeze Liza’s hand. “She’s ready.”
It doesn’t matter if she’s not. She has no choice but to join my family. Alone she has a target on her back.
Kertzer slides paperwork across his desk, the marriage license. It’s already filled in with the information I got from the driver’s license in her purse and my own personal details.
His pen is gold and looks heavy. Liza holds it like it might burn her. I gently squeeze her shoulder but my voice is firm. “Sign,milaya.” The endearment slips out, but feels so right.
Worried green eyes quickly glance at my face before she does as told. Her signature is a trembling flicker.
Mine is a knife slash. Quick and decisive.
Kertzer stands, reciting vows in English, his voice is harsh, almost dismissive. This isn’t about love. It’s about necessary protection.
But for a brief second, in a weird stillness of the moment, I feel something shift inside me. Something clicks into place and I rub my chest.
“Do you, Danyl Kedrov, take this woman, Liza Ponti, as your lawful wife?”
“Da, yes,” I answer, voice certain.
He turns. “And do you, Liza, take this man as your husband?”
Her voice wavers. “… I do.”
Kertzer signs the license and then turns it so that the clerk who’s silently been waiting in the corner can sign as a witness. Finally, the lawyer stamps our marriage certificate, the thud echoing in the stillness. He hands it to me with solemn eyes. “She’s a Kedrov now.”
I nod. Family is all. Always.
Liza stares at the paper, reading her first name, with my last name, tied together forever. The moment realization sets in, her face slowly blanks into shock.
Outside the lawyer’s office building, Liza staggers, clutching my coat tighter to her shoulders. In the light from the street lamps, her eyes shine with fresh panic.
“I can’t do this,” she whispers, voice shredded.
I cup her face with both hands, tilting it so she has to look me in the eyes. “It’s already done. And you’re safe now.” My thumb catches a lone tear. “Nothing will happen to you as long as you wear my name.”
Her gaze roams across my face, as if searching for the monster she’s afraid is lurking there.
She’ll see him, soon enough.
“I want to go home,” she says.
“We will,” I say, softly. “To my home, that’s where you belong now.”
Her eyes grow wide and she starts shaking. I hug her to my chest, hoping the warmth of my embrace will make her feel better. But deep inside, I know there’s no real comfort for her tonight.
I raise my face to the falling sleet and the city watching us with its thousand blind eyes.
I give her a brief moment, but then I usher her back toward the cars where my men wait at attention. It’s not ceremony.
