Chapter 25 — Kiera
~Two Weeks Later
The church doors parted, and I walked into the building, dressed in a white silk lace gown. The gown clung to me in all the right places, its hem sweeping the floor behind me as I moved.
Heads turned as I marched down the aisle, my eyes fixed on the suited man at the altar. He was wearing a white tuxedo with black pants and nearly combed hair. His shoes were polished to a shine, his bow tie firm around his neck.
He looked rather ravishing, his gaze holding a hint of adoration. My pulse raced as I neared the altar, knowing that I was approaching the point of no return. Forever was a really long time, and I still wasn’t sure I was making the right decision.
So far, things had been smooth between us—we understood each other better. Even though we still fought most of the time. I was starting to get used to his presence and was already addicted to his touch.
Yet, it felt like something was missing, although I had no idea what. Vika’s case and the look of disappointment in July’s eyes that day in the courtroom had taught me a hard lesson. No matter how just my intentions were, bearing the Tarasov name would ruin everything I touched.
Did I really want that?
The answer was no.
But at this point, my fate was already sealed. Nial had claimed me as his own, and I was carrying a piece of him inside me. There was no going back now; this union must happen. It was the only way I’d survive and raise my child.
Tears stung my eyes as I neared the waiting groom, my heart racing wildly. This was not how I intended my life to turn out. Just two months ago, I had everything figured out: my future, my career, and the people I was going to help.
Yet here I was, about to tie the knot with one of the city’s most ruthless Mafia bosses. Men like him deserved to spend the rest of their lives in a cell, put there by people like me.
But fate had a twisted sense of humor.
Was fate also responsible for these feelings growing within me? Or was that just a result of my own carelessness?
We’d made love a couple of times now, each time better and more spontaneous than the last. And because of that, I felt deeply connected to this man on a level beyond the physical.
I walked to the altar, confused, even though there was nothing I could do about my situation. He reached out, helping me up the steps like a true gentleman.
The scent of his cologne, mixed with the aroma of my perfume, filled the air around us as we stood across from each other. He held my gaze, his expression a little softer than usual.
“Dearly beloved…” the priest began, arms apart, his voice echoing off the church walls. “We are gathered here today….”
I stared into Nial’s cold eyes, searching for a reason to damn the consequences and bolt out of this church. In those depths, I saw a million and one reasons.
Murderer.
Drug dealer.
Smuggler.
Money launderer.
Monster.
Mafia.
The list went on and on because the man embodied everything I stood against. Nial was a living, breathing representation of evil, an oppressor with no remorse.
It was his job to trample on people and inflict fear. My job was to set them free and give them hope. Although we’d reached an agreement on how we’d run our home, it just didn’t seem like it was enough.
“Do you, Kiera Jane, take this man, Nial Tarasov, to be your lawfully wedded husband…?” The priest’s voice snapped me back to the present.
I looked into his eyes, struggling to hold back my tears. The question had landed like a knife to my chest, and the whole congregation was waiting for my answer.
I closed my eyes for a fleeting moment, a quiet sigh escaping my lips. “I do.”
Everything else that came after happened in a blur, and the next thing I knew, we were already at the kissing part.
“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest announced.
Nial pulled me by the waist, his lips locking to mine, sealing our union. The crowd, mainly the groom’s family members and close acquaintances, rose to their feet, applauding.
My heart sank as the weight of permanence settled around me like a cage made of silk. Nial held on to me, his grip steady, his gaze unwavering. His presence alone was overwhelming. But when his lips curled into a small grin, I found myself reciprocating the gesture.
***
Later that evening, after all the stress that came with the wedding, we finally retired to our master bedroom. The place was strange and unfamiliar—luxurious, but unfamiliar.
I sat on the edge of his king-sized bed, hands on my lap, the zipper on my gown halfway down my back. The silence was loud and uncomfortable, the air thick with unspoken words.
He lounged on the couch across the bed, legs crossed, his eyes pinned on me. He didn’t say a word at first; he just sat there, watching me closely. I wasn’t sure why this was awkward because at this point, we were already past awkward silences.
The longer this stillness stretched, the more my heart pounded in my chest. I couldn’t understand the logic behind my anxiety, and that mystery gnawed at me more than I cared to admit.
“Something on your mind?” he asked, his voice cutting through the silence.
A pause.
“Not really,” I answered, raising my head to meet his gaze. “It’s just…this wasn’t how I envisioned….” My voice trailed off.
He waited a while, then said, “Sometimes, the best marriages start out rough. It’s up to the couple to decide if they’re gonna make it work or not.”
I stared at him across the room, his words sparking a flame within me. “Did you read that somewhere?”
“Your ability to always think so low of me is rather remarkable,” he answered, exuding his usual calmness.
Nial’s words actually managed to draw a quiet chuckle from my lips.
“It’s not my fault you are what you are,” I replied with the same tone, eyes locked on his.
His lips twisted into a small grin. “I’m a monster, Kiera. Not stupid.”
I didn’t realize the smile on my face was broadening until I caught a reflection of myself in the mirror. He’d found a way to gradually ease my tension without even trying at all.
That was a beat trick. No doubt.
“Can I ask you something?”
He paused for a second. “Shoot.”
“Do you think this can work out?” I moved my hand back and forth between the two of us. “I mean, do you really believe we can pull this off?”
“We can do anything we set our minds to.”
“I’m not….” I exhaled sharply, masking my frustration. “I’m not asking for some random motivational speech.” I rose to my feet, my voice tender but solemn. “I’m asking for your honest opinion. Raw. Unfiltered. Just tell me exactly what you think of this.”
Silence.
He refused to take his eyes off me, his expression softening by the second. “Do you know why I asked you to leave after our first night together?”
The pain from that time poked at me, but I was quick to brush it off. “Because you got what you wanted?”
“Wrong.” He stood up, his neatly combed hair catching the light. “I asked you to leave because you were beginning to affect me in ways I wasn’t ready for.”
What, for real?
“I told myself it was a strategy.” He approached me, his footsteps slow and measured. “But I knew it wasn’t. It was fear.”
What’s going on right now? Where’s this confession going?
He halted before me, his fingers gently stroking my hair. “I was afraid of what you were doing to me and how quickly I was losing control.”
Holy…shit. I did not see that coming.
My heart was hammering so loudly that I could swear he could hear it.
“I didn’t understand what was happening to me at the time. So, in my foolishness, I convinced myself that distance was the only solution.” His arms wrapped around my waist, his eyes boring into mine. “I was wrong.”
I blinked a few times, fighting back the tears that stung my eyes. His confession made it clear that whatever effect he had on me, I had on him as well. The attraction was mutual after all.
“So, yes.”
I threw my arms around his neck. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, I believe we can pull this off,” he answered, his thumb grazing my cheek. “At least I know I’m willing to give it a try.”
His words were reassuring, his tone so soothing it thawed something frozen inside me. The feeling of his skin on mine sent shivers down my spine, my heart swelling with something unnamed.
“Are you willing to give it a try?” he asked, his voice a low whisper.
My lips parted into a faint smile, and I nodded.
“I don’t understand sign language,” he teased, holding me close.
A laughed abruptly, the kind that made my eyes shine with mirth. “Yes.” I sniffled, beaming at him.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I’m willing to give it a try,” I answered, a flutter rising in my chest.
I’d never felt more secure and safe around him like I did at that moment. His arms around me were both possessive and protective at the same time. The stillness was peaceful, and I was basking in it.
This was the first time I’d seen him connected to his humanity. When I looked at him, I didn’t see the monster who had once kidnapped and locked me up in a cell. All I saw was a man trying to gather the pieces of something he had broken.
It was like staring at a whole new version of Nial Tarasov. He wasn’t soft or weak. He was just being more intentional about what he wanted, what he’d chosen.
In that intimate moment, I felt connected to him in ways I never imagined. And it wasn’t even sexual. It was just…peaceful.
Not long after, I felt it, a sudden dizziness that made me stumble back a few steps.
“What’s the matter—are you okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.
“Yeah,” I said, my vision blurring by the second. “I’m just a little dizzy; that’s all.”
The world began swirling around, and my knees suddenly felt too weak to carry my weight. His voice echoed in my heavy head before fading into the background.
I could hear the sound of my own pounding heart as my body neared the floor. The last thing I heard was Nial calling out my name in a way that made my heart sink into my stomach.
What the hell is happening to me?
My eyes closed, and everything went blank. Silent.
***
By the time I came to, I was in a different location—the lights were brighter, and the air smelled of antiseptic solution. It took a moment for my vision to clear, and that’s when I noticed the blue curtains swirling in the cool breeze.
Beside me, a machine was beeping steadily, the sound blending with the quiet voices of two men talking. When I glanced down, I realized I was dressed in a hospital gown.
The voices happened to be those of Nial’s and the doctor’s as they stood outside the door. Nial’s face was etched with something that looked an awful lot like fear—worry.
He stood in front of the doctor with his arms across his chest, his gaze unwavering. The doctor was explaining something I couldn’t quite catch. But judging by the concern on Nial’s face, whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
My breath hitched in my throat as my hand darted to my belly, my heart racing.
God, I hope my baby’s okay.