The clinking starts at the table nearest the dance floor and spreads across the room until three hundred forks are tapping against three hundred glasses and the noise fills the reception hall in a wave of crystal ringing. Mila turns to me with her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright with joy, and I lean in and kiss her, deepening the kiss when the cheering gets louder. She smiles against my mouth and puts her hand on my chest and pushes me back gently.
"They're going to make us do that all night," she says.
"I'm not complaining."
"You will be by the fifteenth time."
"I won't." I take her hand and kiss her knuckles. "I could kiss you fifteen hundred times tonight and it wouldn't be enough."
"That's the most romantic thing you've ever said to me." Her hand presses against her sternum in feigned flattery.
"Don't get used to it."
When she laughs, it's a happy, tinkling sound that shakes her whole body, rounded belly and all, and I rest my hand on the swell where our baby grows inside her. Timur is ready to do the toasts, though I'm feeling antsy. I want to sweep Mila out of here and into someplace far more private so I can enjoy her for the first time as my legal wife.
He stands, tapping on his glass again to get everyone’s attention, and the chatter of three hundred voices dies down. "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Roman's brother." He pauses. "For those of you who do know me, I'm sorry."
Laughter rolls through the tables. Mila covers her mouth, but I see the smile peeking out.
"I've watched my brother run this family for years. He's made decisions that terrified grown men and negotiated deals that would make your heads spin. But I've never seen him as terrified as the day he told me he was in love with Mila Radin." Timur glances at me. "He called me at two in the morning to unburden himself."
Mila turns to me and whispers, "You called him at two in the morning?"
"He's exaggerating," I mumble, not sure what my brother will come up with next.
Timur gets himself into some hot water as he says, "He also told me she'd stolen from him. Which, for Roman, was apparently foreplay."
The room erupts and Mila drops her face into her hands. I'm gonna kill my brother later, but right now, I'm laughing too hard to plan it properly. And my guests don't seem to notice that my brother is telling the truth, anyway.
Then he raises his glass. "To Roman and Mila. May she keep slapping sense into him for the rest of their lives."
Glasses rise across the room. Mila lifts her water and clinks it against my champagne, and her eyes are shining.
When Anatoly rises on behalf of Mila, who had no maid of honor, the room quiets. He was her father's driver for more than twenty years and watched her grow from an infant to who she is today. I was surprised when she asked him to walk her down the aisle, but seeing the bond they have, it now makes sense.
"Anton would've loved today," Anatoly says, choking back emotion. Anyone who looks at him can see he loves her like a daughter. "He would've loved seeing his daughter this happy. And he would've told Roman that if he ever hurt her, there wouldn't be a place on earth far enough to hide." He lifts his glass. "To Anton."
"To Anton," the room echoes.
Mila wipes her eyes with her napkin, and I put my hand on her knee under the table and she covers it with hers and holds on.
When the applause fades, I stand because it's my turn while I have their attention to thank them all. The past several months have been a wild ride, and the marriage of our two families has gone more smoothly than anyone expected. Soon, Mila will be handed her inheritance, and I can’t wait to see how this new union blossoms.
"Thank you for being here. Thank you for witnessing what, without exaggeration, has been the best day of my life." I unbutton my jacket and rest one hand on the back of Mila's chair. "I want to address the men in this room who lead theirfamilies. With Mila as my wife, it has been discussed and decided that I will be assuming leadership of the Radin family.
"I'm asking the men who served under Anton, and under his father before him, to fall in under my leadership. Not because I demand it, but because I intend to honor the legacy Milos built and Anton carried forward. This family deserves better than what it's been through. I plan to make sure it gets that."
I pause for a moment as I think about how all these smiling faces will become soldiers at my beck and call and how lucky I am that Mila and I see things so similarly. Then I continue my speech.
"And as you all know" —I reach down and take Mila's hand— "in a couple of months, our first child will be born."
The room erupts again as applause washes over us from every direction. Mila presses her free hand against her belly and smiles up at me, and I have to clench my jaw and look out at the crowd for a second because looking at her right now will break me in front of three hundred people and I refuse to cry at my own wedding.
"And in this child," I manage, "the Radin-Kuzin organization has its heir." More applause thunders as I nod and raise my hand, and Mila rises to kiss me. The place relaxes back into the flow of a celebration where the quartet plays and the waiters continue serving drinks, and I've been patient for long enough.
I lean toward Mila. "Come with me."
"Dinner's about to be served."
