37. Epilogue
SOFIA
I glide down the marble aisle of the Palazzo Vecchio, my blood-red dress trailing behind me like spilled wine against the ancient stone. My father’s arm is steady beneath my hand, but his pulse races. I can feel it through his sleeve. He knows, as I do, that this isn’t the marriage he originally planned for his lost daughter.
Candlelight flickers across the grand hall’s frescoed ceiling, casting dancing shadows that seem to move with my every step. Mario sits rigidly in the front row. His green-gold eyes, so like mine, reflect a mix of pride and resignation. His careful manipulations brought me here, but not as the pawn he’d hoped for.
My breath catches as I look up to see Nikolai. He stands like a king at the altar, his brothers Erik, Dmitri, and Alexi arrayed behind him in pristine black tuxedos. But it’s Nikolai’s burning gaze holds mine, those steel-gray eyes drinking in every detail of my dress, my face, my being. His intensity makes my skin tingle even from this distance.
When Antonio places my hand in Nikolai’s, electricity shoots through me. His fingers close around mine with that perfect balance of strength and tenderness I’ve known so well. We chose Florence for this moment for its breathtaking beauty and as a statement to our families. Here, in the heart of Castellano territory, I’m choosing to bind myself to the head of the Ivanov empire—a Russian.
This union isn’t what they planned when they started moving us around like chess pieces. But standing here, feeling Nikolai’s thumb brush across my knuckles, I know we’ve transcended their games to create something entirely our own.
The priest’s words flow over us in English, his Italian accent lending a musical quality to the ancient vows. My hands tremble slightly in Nikolai’s steady grip as we face each other. The weight of our families’ presence fades away until it’s just us, lost in each other’s eyes.
“I, Nikolai Ivanov...” His voice carries through the hall, strong and clear. Each word falls like a promise etched in stone. His thumb brushes over my pulse point when he speaks of cherishing and protecting me, reminding me of how he’s already proven his dedication.
My turn comes, and despite my racing heart, my voice stays steady. “I, Sofia Henley...” I begin, watching his eyes darken at my choice to use my adopted name. It’s who I was when he fell in love with me and part of who I’ll always be.
The traditional words take on new meanings as I speak them. To love, honor, and cherish are all simple promises that carry the weight of everything we’ve overcome to stand here. When I reach “till death do us part,” Nikolai’s fingers tighten on mine, and I see the flash of possession in his eyes.
We exchange rings—his, a heavy platinum band that looks like it was made to rest on his strong hand; mine, an antique piece that belonged to his mother, reset with stones that catch the candlelight like captured stars.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest declares. “You may kiss the bride.”
Nikolai doesn’t hesitate. His hand cups the back of my neck, fingers threading through my carefully arranged hair as he claims my mouth. This isn’t a chaste church kiss—it’s a declaration. His lips move against mine with fierce possession, and I respond in kind, my fingers gripping his lapels. The kiss deepens, tasting of promise and power, until someone, probably Alexi, whistles wolfishly from behind us.
When we finally break apart, I’m breathless and flushed. Nikolai’s eyes burn into mine, a silent vow passing between us that makes my heart race again.
I sink into the plush leather of the Rolls Royce, my dress rustling as Nikolai slides in beside me. His hand finds mine immediately, thumb brushing over my new ring.
“Already planning your escape, malishka ?” He catches me glancing at the partition between us and the driver.
“Just wondering if you’ve soundproofed this one too.” I arch an eyebrow at him, remembering other drives.
His laugh rumbles deep in his chest. “Behave yourself. We have exactly eighteen minutes until the reception.”
“Enough time then.” I lean closer, but he catches my chin with his fingers.
“You look too perfect to ruin. Yet.” The heat in his eyes makes me shiver.
The drive to Villa La Massa passes in a blur of stolen kisses and whispered promises. Pulling up to the illuminated Renaissance villa, I spot familiar faces among the arriving guests.
Tash makes her entrance in a dress that could start wars. It’s made from purple silk that flows like liquid around her curves. She pauses at the top of the stone steps, scanning the crowd with that practiced socialite’s eye. Then Dmitri approaches her, every inch the perfect host in his tailored tuxedo.
“Welcome to the celebration,” he says, gracefully extending his hand.
“How kind of you to greet the commoners.” Tash’s smile could cut glass as she takes his hand.
“I assure you, there’s nothing common about you.” Dmitri’s ice-blue gaze sweeps over her with dangerous appreciation.
“No?” Tash withdraws her hand slowly. “How disappointing. I rather enjoy being underestimated.”
I lean into Nikolai’s shoulder, watching their verbal sparring match. “Your brother’s met his match,” I murmur.
Nikolai’s smirk widens as Dmitri’s perfect composure cracks slightly at Tash’s next barbed comment. “Perhaps that’s exactly what he needs.”
I scan the opulent ballroom, taking in the subtle power plays around us. The Castellanos and Ivanovs circle each other like wary predators, testing boundaries through polite smiles and calculated conversation. Ornate chandeliers filter a warm glow over the Renaissance frescoes, turning the whole scene into something out of a dark fairy tale.
Nikolai’s hand slides to my lower back, guiding me onto the dance floor. His touch burns through the silk of my wedding dress, claiming and possessive. We move together with practiced grace, his lead subtle but absolute.
“Happy, Mrs. Ivanov?” His accent thickens on my new name. The weight of his ring on my finger still feels foreign but right.
“Ecstatic,” I murmur, watching the fascinating dynamics. Dmitri has cornered Tash by the champagne fountain, caught in a heated debate.
I melt into Nikolai’s arms as we glide across the marble floor, his hand at my waist guiding me with subtle pressure. The orchestra plays a waltz, its melody wrapping around us like silk. Every turn brings me closer to his chest, his cologne teasing my senses.
“You’re thinking too much, malishka .” His breath tickles my ear.
“Just taking it all in.” I glance at him through my lashes, catching that predatory gleam in his steel-gray eyes. “Our families watching us like hawks, waiting to see who leads this dance.”
“Let them watch.”
The music shifts slower now, and Nikolai pulls me closer. My breath catches as his thigh slides between mine, our steps becoming more intimate with each measure. The rest of the room fades away until there’s only us and the music.
“Your heart’s racing,” he murmurs, fingers splaying possessively across my back.
“Your fault.” I press closer, feeling the solid warmth of his chest against mine. “You always know exactly what you’re doing.”
His low chuckle vibrates through me. “With you? Always.”
We move as one across the floor, every step charged with unspoken promises. His hand slides lower, proprietary, marking me as his even in this crowded room. My fingers curl into his shoulder, nails scraping lightly through his jacket.
“Careful, malishka .” His voice drops an octave. “Or we might need to cut this reception short.”
I look up at him, catching the heat in his gaze that weakens my knees. “Promise?”
His grip tightens fractionally as we turn, the movement bringing our bodies flush together. The friction sends sparks racing along my nerves, and I bite back a gasp.
“Come with me,” Nikolai growls in my ear, leading me away from the dance floor. He guides me up a hidden staircase to a secluded and out-of-view balcony overlooking the grand hall. Below, our guests continue celebrating, unaware of their hosts’ absence. The music drifts up, mingling with the warm Tuscan night air.
“Someone might see,” I whisper as his hands slide over the silk of my wedding dress. But we both know that’s part of the thrill.
“Let them,” he murmurs against my neck. “You’re my wife now, malishka . Mine in every way.”
His fingers find the hidden slit in my dress, sliding up my thigh. I bite back a moan as he presses me against the stone balustrade. The rough texture of centuries-old marble contrasts with the smooth silk of my dress with Nikolai’s expert touch.
“Say it,” he demands, his voice rough with need. “Tell Daddy who you belong to.”
“You,” I gasp as his fingers find their target. “I’m yours, Daddy.”
“I knew you’d look perfect in red.” Nikolai’s deep voice sends shivers through me as his kiss traces my pulse point.
“I thought brides were supposed to wear white.” I arch back against him, pressing my hips into the evidence of his desire.
“Not you. Never innocent.” His hand slides up my thigh, pushing my skirt higher. “I knew from the moment I saw you that you were made for sin.”
My breath catches as his fingers hook into the silk of my panties. With a sharp tug, he rips them away, baring me to his gaze. The cool night air caresses my heated skin, making me shiver with anticipation. His hands skim over my bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“Such a tease, wife.” His sharp teeth nip at my earlobe before his tongue soothes the sting. “Let’s see how much noise you can make before someone hears.”
Before I can respond, he presses me against the balcony wall. The cold stone bites into my back, contrasting with the heat of his body. He tangles my ripped panties in my mouth, silencing any screams that might escape.
“Daddy’s going to mark you. Show everyone what’s his.” His voice is rough with need, sending delicious shivers down my spine.
His hands tighten on my hips, lifting me slightly as he pulls me flush against his straining erection. I bite down on the silk, suppressing a moan as he thrusts into me. The angle is perfect, hitting all the right spots, and my knees weaken.
“Good girl.” His fingers bruise my skin as he sets a brutal pace, each thrust pushing me harder against the wall. “Take it, baby. Take Daddy’s cock.”
I whimper around the gag, my body moving with his, unable to do anything but surrender to the pleasure. Nikolai’s hand snakes between us, his fingers finding my swollen clit. With each brush, his touch grows more relentless, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
“Fuck—so tight, baby. Going to come all over Daddy’s cock, aren’t you?” His lips brush against my ear.
I nod frantically, beyond words, my hips bucking against his. He grinds into me, his thumb pressing hard, and I shatter. My orgasm ripples through me, and I cry out against the gag, my body shaking with the force of it.
Nikolai groans, his thrusts becoming wilder. “That’s it, baby. Come for Daddy.”
His teeth sink into my shoulder, his fingers bruising my hips as he follows me over the edge. I feel him spill inside me, marking me as completely his. And then he pulls the panties from my mouth and kisses me like his life depends on it. After a while, he breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against mine, setting me down on my feet.
We stand there, catching our breath. My body feels weightless, every nerve still buzzing with pleasure. Nikolai’s arms wrap around me, holding me against him as he nuzzles my hair.
“Mine,” he whispers, his voice husky and possessive. “Always.”
I smile against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong lines of his shoulders. The music and laughter drift up from below, reminding us of the world beyond our bubble.
“We should join the party,” I murmur, my voice thick with satisfaction. “Before they send a search party.”
Nikolai chuckles, his fingers threading through mine. “Let them wonder.”
“Let’s stay here, just briefly.” His heartbeat drums against my cheek, steady and sure. “Before we face the vultures.”
“They can wait.” His lips brush the top of my head, his arms tightening around me protectively. “They can all wait for us.”
I lean into Nikolai’s warmth, breathing in his familiar scent as we watch our guests below. The party continues without us, but I don’t care.
“What are you thinking about, malishka ?” His fingers trace lazy patterns on my bare shoulder.
“How different everything is from what I imagined.” I turn in his arms to face him. “A year ago, I was just a gallery owner in Boston. Now I’m married to the most dangerous man I know, standing on a balcony in Florence after scandalizing half of Italy’s elite.”
His laugh rumbles through his chest. “Disappointed?”
“Never.” I reach up to trace the sharp line of his jaw. “You crashed into my carefully ordered world and turned everything upside down. But somehow, it all feels right.”
“Because it is right.” He captures my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. “You were made for this life, Sofia. Made for me.”
The possessiveness in his voice makes my heart flutter. “Even when I’m being difficult?”
“Especially then.” His eyes darken with remembered heat. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t challenge me at every turn.”
“Good.” I stretch up to brush my lips against his. “Because I plan to keep challenging you for the rest of our lives.”
His hands tighten on my waist. “Promise?”
“Promise.” I sink into his kiss, melting against him as the stars wheel overhead and the music floats up from below. At this moment, everything is perfect—the dangerous man who owns my heart and the promise of forever stretching ahead.
* * *
Thank you so much for reading Stalk Me, the first book in the Beautiful Monsters series. I hope you enjoyed following Nikolai and Sofia’s story.
The next book will be Shatter Me, following Dmitri and Tash. The pre-order is scheduled for the 30th of April, but I’m hoping to bring it forward. This will be the latest date it will be published.
Shatter Me: A Dark Mafia Romance
I’ve always prided myself on seeing through people’s bullshit. But Dmitri Ivanov? He’s a puzzle I can’t solve.
Sure, Boston’s elite sees the perfect businessman—all devastating smiles and Armani suits. I see the monster beneath, the darkness he tries so hard to hide. The way he watches me like he wants to devour me whole.
I hate how he gets under my skin. Hate how my body betrays me every time he corners me, how his touch sets me on fire even as his arrogance makes me want to scream. He thinks he can control me like he controls everything else in his perfectly ordered world.
He’s wrong.
But when I discover the truth about the Ivanov family, suddenly I’m caught in a dangerous game I never signed up for. Now Dmitri’s trying to protect me by keeping me in the dark, not realizing his secrets might get me killed.
After I’m kidnapped, everything changes. The lies, the betrayal, the realization that I was just another chess piece in his game—it’s too much. So I do the one thing Dmitri Ivanov never expected.
I walk away.
Now, the great puppet master has lost his strings, and for the first time in his life, he’s the one begging. But I won’t make it easy for him. If he wants me back, he’ll have to do the one thing he’s never done before:
Let someone see the real him.
Even if it shatters us both.