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The colossal entrance foyer is divided into four quadrants, where the guests sit. I’m shocked at how many people showed up and feel a sharp stab of shame that none of them are here for me. To my astonishment, all the women are in white, and the men wear black. The walkway to the center is lined with pillar candles in hurricane lanterns, and red rose petals cover the floor in a blanket of soft crimson.
Music is playing from somewhere. It’s Lilyana, playing the piano off to the side. She is singing too, a beautiful aria in Italian. The room is silent, the perfect acoustics giving weight and reach to the song.
I look ahead and see Sasha. He is also in black, but his shirt and tie are red, to match me. A celebrant stands behind him, his brothers to his left. Morgana sits near him, and she turns to give me a little wave. The song reaches a crescendo, and Arman leads me toward the man who is already my husband.
Why am I so nervous? It’s for show, to appease the bratvakomissiyaand ensure Sasha’s safety and mine. How many of the things he says are just posturing? Does he just want to ensure no one, including me, undermines his authority? I guess he owns me until he doesn’t.
Still, though. No one ever looked at me like Sasha is looking at me right now. He’s transfixed, staring like I might evaporate into the ether if he blinks. He’s smiled at me many times, but this isn’t his arrogant asshole grin or patronizing smirk. It’s a smile of pure, unadulterated sweetness, as though just to see me this way gives him peace. It’s unexpected, and tears prick my eyes again, but I blink them away.
Arman releases me, and Sasha takes my hand. He winks at his brother and takes his seat, glad to be able to settle his eyes on Lili again. After all, she’s performing, and watching her is allowed. Avel gives me a solemn nod but then breaks into a broad smile, and I give it back.
Sasha and I turn to face one another as the song ebbs to a close.
“This is amazing,” I murmur, stepping closer so he can hear me. “I never thought anyone would do something like this for me.”
Sasha puts his hands on my waist and kisses my cheek. “Zolotse. I’m not just anyone. I’m your husband, your lover, your protector. I’ll give you anything within my power, even if I have to bargain with God to see it done. Or The Devil, come to think of it. He and I already know each other.”
“I expect he’s already got a room ready for you,” I laugh.
“A room?” Sasha rolls his eyes. “If every bad deed in life buys one brick, I’ve built a fucking mansion by now. And just as well, because I intend to see out the afterlife in the manner I’m accustomed to.”
29
Sasha
I’m lightheaded, struggling to believe it’s real. And maybe it isn’t.
Josie had no choice the first time around, and truthfully, she didn’t have any way of getting out of it this time, either. But I meant it when I said I wouldn’t make her stay with me. This wedding may be the real deal, or I’m deluded, but I’d rather tell myself a beautiful lie than face an ugly truth. For now, just for today, I’ll let myself feel everything.
Because I’m in love with her.
I love Josie. It’s there, eating away at me whenever I think of losing her. I tried so hard to push it back, but it overwhelmed me, and now I’m consumed by the sublime terror that comes from knowing she holds my soul in her hands.
Red suits her. The color makes her pale skin all the more luminous, the candlelight dancing shadows over her smooth shoulders. It cost more than the GDP of a small nation to pull this wedding off in record time, but it was worth all seven figures to stand with Josie in this place that means so much to her.
Everyone I love is here with me, except for Rocco, and not for the first time, I feel his absence keenly. Signora G is the other notable no-show, but she never leaves her home, even if she does remember an invitation. Even if she did, she’d drink half an Aperol spritz and fall asleep in a corner.
Josie sees me smiling. “Let me in on the joke?” she says.
I squeeze her waist. “For once, I’m not playing anything for laughs. I mean it. I couldn’t ask for more.”
Lilyana’s song fades away, and the celebrant starts talking to the assembly about the risks of love.
Love was always a precarious thing to me, a double-edged sword that could both heal and wound. The loss of my mother and Rocco made me fear getting close to anyone again. But at this moment, it feels like a risk worth taking.
I tried to resist, but I can’t help it—I’m learning. Love is more than just desire, deeper than obsession, and the antithesis of power or dominance. It’s about trust, vulnerability, and choosing to be with someone despite the darkness that life sometimes throws in your path.
I have my demons, my past, and my own insecurities. But in Josie’s eyes, I see acceptance and forgiveness, a chance for redemption. It’s as though she sees through the hardened exterior I built over the years straight into the heart of the man I wanted to become.
She makes me want to change. To love her isn’t enough; I want to be everything she needs. Love is a risk, a leap into the unknown, but with Josie, it feels like the most natural thing in the world. I want to protect her, cherish her, and be the man she deserves.
“Hey,” I murmur in Josie’s ear. “Remember when I told you I’m not the man to save you?” She nods, and I pull her closer. “I lied,moya zhena. I’m the only man who will ever save you, and I’ll do it again and again. Count on it.”
The celebrant is telling me to kiss my wife. I’ve never been happier to follow an order in my life. Josie slides her hands over my chest and around my neck, raking her nails through the shaved hair at my nape, and I give a low growl, ready to taste her soft lips.
With a crash, the door flies open. Josie snaps her head to look, and I follow suit. All the guests stare at the woman standing in the doorway, making a show of fussing with her hair.
