I do. Completely.
The song shifts into something slower, more intimate, and Maxim pulls me even closer, his hand warm and steady on my lower back.
I rest my head against his chest, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart as we sway together.
I try to think back to all the places I once told him about. The bucket list I shared with him late one night when I had opened up to him about my longing to travel the world.
I had never really been anywhere. The only place outside the US I’d ever visited was Russia, and that was when we were little kids, before our father became even more controlling.
After that, he never let me or Milana leave the country. Only my brothers were allowed that freedom.
When my brothers took over, they were too busy fighting wars and keeping us safe to let us out of their sight. So I stayed trapped, dreaming of places I might never see.
Now, I’m trying to remember every country I mentioned to Maxim, wondering which one he chose for our honeymoon.Paris? Santorini? The Maldives? My mind races with possibilities, excitement bubbling in my chest.
“Okay, tell me this,” I say, tilting my head up to look at him. “Do I need to pack warm clothes? Or light, breezy things? What kind of clothing should I bring?”
He looks down at me with that teasing smirk I’ve come to love. “I thought you already packed.”
“I did,” I huff, “but I packed blindly because I don’t even know where we’re going. If you just told me, I could pack properly.”
He chuckles, the sound low and warm against my ear. “Nice try. If you packed the wrong clothes, we can always go shopping when we get there.”
I roll my eyes, pretending to be annoyed. “But why waste time shopping when we could be exploring? Just give me one clue. What’s the city like? What do people do there?”
He shakes his head, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Nope.”
I let out a dramatic huff, but I’m smiling. I can’t stay mad at him when he looks at me like that.
I’m actually excited. Excited to be away with him. Even with security, it will feel like we’re truly alone for the first time. No Bratva business hanging over us. Just us.
Maxim pulls me out of my thoughts, nodding toward the bar area. “What’s going on with those two?”
I turn my head and see Milana arguing with Konstantin near the drinks table. She’s gesturing wildly, clearly irritated, while he leans against the bar with that smug, teasing grin of his.
I smile, shaking my head. “Oh, they’re always like that. Konstantin loves getting on Milana’s nerves, and she, bless her, always gives him exactly the reaction he wants. They’ve been like this for years.”
Maxim chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest. “She looks like she’s about to rip his head off.”
“She probably is,” I laugh. “But that’s just their thing.”
As the song comes to a gentle end, Maxim leans down, lips brushing my ear. “Do you think we can ditch the party now?”
I glance around, we’ve cut the cake, I’ve thrown the bouquet, danced with everyone who matters. Everything feels complete.
“I don’t see why not,” I say, smiling up at him.
He kisses my forehead, then takes my hand. “Good. Because I can’t wait to have you all to myself.”
“Me neither.”
A few hours later, we’re on Maxim’s private jet, preparing for takeoff to wherever mysterious location he’s chosen for our honeymoon.
The captain’s voice comes over the speakers, announcing we’re ready for takeoff. I buckle my seatbelt, glancing at Maxim beside me. He’s relaxed in his seat, one hand resting possessively on my thigh, thumb tracing slow circles that send little sparks through me.
The plane accelerates down the runway, pressing me back into my seat as we lift into the sky.
Once we’re safely in the air and the seatbelt sign turns off, I unbuckle and lean across the small space between our seats, my hand resting on his chest.
