Page 252 of Lethal Obsession

“What, motherfucker?” It’s Lars who eventually speaks, his voice a hoarse rasp through the silence. “Did you honestly think I’d let you get married without me?”

Afterward, I will barely remember the details of the ceremony.

But I will always remember how long I held Lars’s lean body close to mine before it began.

His whispered “I love you, brother.”

The tears running unabashedly from Ofelia’s eyes when I finally stood again, and the mingled laughter and sobs from the congregation behind us when my father handed me his handkerchief to wipe both her tears and my own away.

The benevolent smile of the priest, despite Lars’s characteristically irreverent greeting, as he gave us his blessing and a candle each to symbolize God’s light, which I had never truly felt in my heart until seeing Lars come back to life.

I will remember, always, bending down so Lars could exchange our rings three times, Benny gently guiding his hand when it seemed he might falter.

And I will recall until my dying breath the luminous joy in Ofelia’s eyes as the priest wrapped the silken cord about our joined hands, bonding us forever.

I vaguely remember the congregation sighing as the priest, in a rare exception to tradition, allowed us both to kneel before Lars at the climax of the ceremony. The way Papa lifted the heavy crowns on Lars’s behalf, Benny helping Lars touch first one, then the other as Papa placed them on our heads.

But above all, I know I will never forget Papa’s murmured words to my best friend, when his hands touched Lars’s own around the crowns: “Rodnoy moy . . . Khrabryy moy synok.”

My own blood . . . My brave son.

And I will remember that it’s the only time in my life that I’ve ever seen Lars cry.

53

Ofelia

Luca Bellini insists on hosting the reception at his family’s main residence, a sprawling, eighteenth-century palazzo perched on the cliffs above the Tyrrhenian Sea.

As the sky deepens with the coming sunset, Alexei and I sit at a long table beneath overhead festoon lights, surrounded by the clinking of cutlery and murmur of contented guests. Beyond the cliffs the sea is deep and still, the Quantum Drift glowing on the water, awaiting our arrival.

Lars and Benny left after the ceremony. Though gray-faced with exhaustion and having clearly far overdone what a frowning Dr. Moretti was happy with, Lars still managed a cheerful, “laters, motherfucker,” when Alexei embraced him again.

“Are you sure you’re okay to be here?” I ask for the tenth time since we finally sat down to eat. “If you want to be at the hospital, I completely understand.”

He raises my hand to his lips, his lone eye deep as the sea beyond and so filled with quiet joy it makes my heart twist. “Not a chance,” he says quietly. “I might never remember all of our wedding, but I plan to enjoy every second of the wedding night.”

“Dr. Moretti said they expect Lars to make a complete recovery.” I smile at him. “Except for the eye, obviously.”

Alexei laughs, a raw, carefree sound. “He always was envious of my patch. Now I guess we’ll match, at least until I get the surgery.”

“You know, you don’t have to get that surgery for me.” I touch his face, tracing the silver lines there. “Every one of these is just a reminder of how far we’ve both come.”

“I know.” He covers my hand with his own. “But the scars are who I was.” He kisses my hand again. “Not who I plan on being every day from now.”

I shiver as his lips linger on my hand. “You have always been the same man, Alexei Naryshkin. You always will be. And I have loved the man you are from the first day we met.”

He gives me the twisted smile that melts my insides. “You mean the day I shot a man at Malaga Airport in front of you, then kidnapped you and flew you back to captivity with the Orlovs?”

“Fine.” I lean on his shoulder. “Maybe not right then. But do you remember later in that trip, when we drove from the airport in Miami to the compound?”

His smile fades, and he nods slowly. “I remember.”

“I think that was when I first began to love you,” I say quietly. “You said in the car: ‘I am the only hope you have of ever seeing your family again. And you are the only chance I have of saving mine.’”

Alexei watches me, his lone eye dark. “That’s not a memory I expected to hear on our wedding day.”

“But don’t you see?” I touch his face again, tracing one of the many lines I’ve come to love so much. “You did all of that, Alexei. You brought us home. And you didn’t just save your family. You saved ours.” Leaning forward, I touch my lips gently to his.