57. Oleg

57

OLEG

My brand new yacht gleams under the Caribbean sun like polished sin, while our friends and family climb aboard.

Everyone is dressed in pale shades of fairy pink or baby blue because, according to the invitation, courtesy of Sydney Palmer, guests had to “ dress for the baby they think is coming. ”

The presents are stacked off to the side on a giant table that looks big enough to sink the whole damn ship. The decorations—a combination of fairy lights and natural wild flowers—have transformed the yacht into a garden party on water.

I have to admit, Sydney really has outdone herself with the décor. She’d proven to be a great asset, not to mention, a great ally in this scheme that has been weeks in the making.

Apart from Artem and Faye, Sydney is the only one that’s aware of my grand deception.

I’ve been watching Sutton closely for hours now and there’s no sign that she even suspects what I might be up to.

As it should be.

She’s standing by the railing of the yacht, dancing with Lily, Noah, and Teo. Dressed in a loose-fitting, lily-white dress that drapes over her body like liquid silver, with flowers woven into the intricate braids of her hair, she’s the picture of a fairy tale princess.

Albeit a very pregnant one.

The party flows like expensive champagne. Which, of course, we have in abundance, along with sparkling apple juice for Sutton’s sake.

Streamers whip around in the breeze. Games are played. Cake is demolished.

It’s the perfect party.

Even my mother, who had turned up late, dressed in a grey cashmere dress and an accessory I didn’t see coming, looks impressed.

While Sutton is busy in the center of the bow with Faye, Jesse, and Mara, Oksana walks over to me, her heels click-clacking against the deck.

“Son.”

“Maman.”

We both turn to the ocean. I lean against the railing while Oksana remains ramrod straight. Every so often, her gaze slides to the man partaking in polite small talk by the buffet table.

“You’re not going to introduce us?”

“I probably should have told you I was bringing a date,” she concedes.

“You’re allowed,” I offer.

Her lips purse with the ghost of a smile. “His name is Richard. He owns a real estate company in Coral Springs.”

“How long have you been seeing each other?”

“Six months, give or take. But officially, only a few weeks.”

I snort. “My mother, the casual dater. Who would have thought?”

“It’s not casual anymore. We’re—” She winces. “—‘exclusive.’ Or whatever the kids call it these days.”

“Exclusive, hm?” I ask, throwing a glance in the man’s direction. “Surprising.”

“Why?” she asks defensively.

I shrug. “How old is he exactly?”

She stiffens. “Forty-eight.”

I throw her a teasing smile. “That’s a twelve-year difference by my count. He’s closer in age to me than he is to you.”

Oksana scowls. “Are you really going to make me feel bad about this?”

I turn to her, eyebrows raised. “Considering the shit you gave me about Sutton, you bet your ass I’m going to make you feel bad about this. How is Mr. Real Estate Agent worthy of marrying into this family?”

I expect to be met with a rant of epic proportions. I expect defensiveness and self-righteousness and lame-ass excuses like “ I’m not the pakhan of the Pavlov Bratva. ”.

But instead, I get a sigh. “You’re right.”

“Excuse me?” I gape at her, certain I’ve misheard.

“Richard is no more suitable for this family than Sutton is,” she admits. “But he makes me happy. Just like Sutton makes you happy.” She suppresses a smile when she sees my jaw drop. “You know, in a roundabout way, you and Sutton inspired me to take things with Richard to the next level. I was keeping things casual until I saw what a real, committed relationship looked like. I suppose I wanted that for myself, too.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Okay, who are you and what have you done to my mother?”

“I was wrong about Sutton,” she continues, turning towards my ethereal fairy princess of a fiancé. “She has far more grit than I gave her credit for.”

“You would have seen that if you gave her a chance.”

“Between sex tapes and boudoir shoots, that was hard to do.” She holds up her hands the moment I turn my scowl on her. “I’m not holding any of it against her. At least, not anymore.”

“Because of—” I incline my head towards Richard. “—that guy.”

“No. Because of you ,” she explains. “I can see how happy she makes you. How focused and fierce. The way you handled the Martineks. The way you handled the board after Boris’s death… I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

My throat actually feels a little tight. “High praise coming from you.”

“Perhaps this new baby can symbolize a new beginning, for all of us.”

“That’s a lot of pressure to put on an unborn child.”

She smiles. “If anyone’s child can take it, it’s yours and Suttons.”

“How did she manage to win you over so completely?” I ask shrewdly, knowing that this change didn’t happen overnight.

“I saw how she took care of her sister,” Oksana says. “Setting her up with a job, going to therapy with her, nurturing and caring for her. She’s going to make an amazing mother.”

“Without a doubt,” I agree proudly.

“She also asked for my help in redecorating parts of the house. We’ve been working together over the last few weeks. She has a good eye.”

“I’m glad you two are getting along.”

“She had every reason to ice me out and keep me from you and my grandchild. But she chose the high road,” Oksana says. “She chose to forgive rather than hold a grudge. I can admit, it’s not something I would have been able to do.”

Both of us whirl around at the steady clinking of steel on glass. Sydney is standing at the center of the bow, tapping a knife against a champagne flute.

“That’s right, that’s right.” She beams with rosy-cheeked pride. “It’s that time of the party. Speech time.”

She makes meaningful eye contact with me over the crowd and nods. Sutton is standing off to the side, her forehead creasing with a frown as she notices the look Sydney passes to me.

Her eyes find mine and we walk to one another, meeting in the middle.

“Oleg,” she murmurs, “please don’t tell me you’ve arranged for some elaborate gift to give me now. Because I really don’t need anything. This baby shower is gift enough.”

I kiss her on the lips. “We’re just giving speeches now, princess.”

“I’d like to thank everyone for joining us today,” Sydney starts off. “For those of you who don’t know, I’m Sydney, the sister of the baby mama and bride. And yes, she is still a bride because, despite Oleg’s best efforts, he still hasn’t managed to seal the deal and get hitched.”

Artem lets out a loud wolf whistle.

“But whenever they do get married, I’ll be there, front and center, ready to celebrate with both of them. And that’s saying something, because I’m not someone who believes in marriage. But I do believe in Sutton and Oleg. Theirs is a modern-day love story, a real-life fairy tale. And thanks to them, I have hope for myself.” She raises her glass. “So, join me in toasting to the couple of the hour, my baby sister and her handsome groom-to-be—Sutton and Oleg!”

The crowd booms with applause and cheers. Everyone takes a sip of the Dom Perignon that’s being poured around. Then Sydney gives me a wink.

Sutton clenches my hand. “Something is going on…”

Ignoring her, I put my palm on her waist and loop her against me a little tighter. “I just want to say a quick few words before we continue the festivities,” I start as Sutton’s suspicious glare burns a hole into the side of my face. “Everyone knows our wedding plans have had their fair share of false starts.”

The crowd titters with amused laughter.

“I suppose I figured that a big, fancy ceremony was over rated. All Sutton really ever wanted was our closest friends and family present. And all I want is her.” I look at my bride for the first time since my speech began. “So, given that we have those things here… How about we turn this baby shower into a wedding?”

Sutton’s mouth parts, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Oh my God!” she breathes, completely blindsided. “Are you serious?”

Right on cue, the captain appears on deck in full ceremonial regalia. The crowd erupts.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Oksana smiling softly and clapping.

I block everyone out and turn to my bride. “What do you say, princess? I know this is a surprise but… Wanna marry me today?”

“Oleg,” she gasps, “I wanted to marry you months ago!”

“I’ll take that as a yes?”

She laughs. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

Sydney appears at Sutton’s side and pulls her into a tight embrace. “Can I have the honor of walking you down the aisle?” she asks.

Sutton blinks back tears. “Of course.”

Just before Sydney leads her away, Sutton glances at me. “Is this the reason you were pushing this dress?” she asks, touching the romantic silk chiffon of her ivory-silver dress.

“Maybe, maybe not. I’ll never tell.”

Laughing, she pushes herself up on tiptoes to kiss me.

“Nuh-huh,” Sydney cracks, grabbing Sutton’s arm and pulling her away. “Save that for when they pronounce you man and wife.”

It’s maddening chaos as Sutton and I exchange our vows with the same casual disregard for convention that has marked our entire relationship so far.

There’s nothing “proper” about the ceremony. Nothing remotely appropriate or dignified to be found.

But it’s legal, binding, final.

It’s real.

And that’s the only thing that matters to me.

Judging from the starry look in Sutton’s eyes, it’s the only thing that matters to her, too.

Once the “I do’s” are out of the way and we’re officially declared husband and wife, I cup Sutton’s face and pull her lips to mine.

We kiss so deep and so long that I start to hear shy giggles and catcalls crashing down around us.

I don’t care.

I keep going, kissing my wife until she’s pink and breathless.

“Oleg Pavlov,” she mumbles when I finally let go of her. “There are children present.”

“The children can avert their eyes then,” I chuckle. “Because there’s nothing on earth that can stop me kissing my wife right now.”

“ Wife ,” she repeats in awe. “I can’t believe it.”

“ You’re Mrs. Oleg Pavlov now.”

She smirks. “I prefer to be called Mrs. Beast, thank you very much.”

Snorting, I pull her into the circle of my arms. “Either way, you know what that means, don’t you?”

She raises her eyebrows. “Uh… I get my health benefits back at work?”

Snorting, I place a kiss on her cheek before nuzzling her ear. “You’re no princess any longer. You’re officially the queen.”

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.