Page 29 of Marrying the Savage

Nothing has happened.

Of course nothing has happened.

What did I expect? That a man like Damir Volodin would receive one absurd invitation from a desperate bride and decide to walk into a church full of enemies for entertainment?

Maybe he never got it.

Maybe his staff burned it.

Maybe he laughed once and threw it away.

Maybe I am exactly what everyone thinks I am: a girl with no power, mistaking rebellion for consequence.

The minister turns a page in his book. “Therefore,” he says, “if any person here can show just cause why these two may not lawfully be joined together, let them speak now or forever hold your peace.”

The words hang in the church. For one second, there is only silence, heavy and absolute.

Final.

My chest tightens.

Dmitri’s fingers squeeze mine, not painfully, but enough to remind me he is there. He is real. This is happening.

The minister draws breath to continue. Then, from somewhere behind us, a man says calmly, “I do.”

The entire church freezes.

My heart stops.

Dmitri’s hand goes rigid around mine.

My uncle, seated in the front pew, turns so sharply that for once he looks almost human in his shock.

The minister’s mouth remains slightly open as every guest twists toward the back.

I don’t turn immediately. I already know.

I know from the sudden silence. From the way Dmitri’s fingers dig into mine. From the cold recognition moving through the church before anyone says his name.

A draft slides down the aisle, cool beneath my veil.

I turn.

Damir Volodin stands at the entrance of the church in a black suit, silver at his temples, black gloves on his hands, and my invitation held between two fingers.

6

DAMIR

Mikhail tells me not to come.

He says it in the car first, while the church bells are already audible three streets away and my driver slows behind a line of black vehicles with diplomatic plates, old family crests, and armed men pretending to be chauffeurs.

“You can still turn back,” he says.

I look at him. He doesn’t lower his gaze, which is one of the reasons I keep him alive and close. A second in command who fears speaking plainly is useless. A second in command who speaks plainly without understanding consequences is dead.

Mikhail is neither.