Epilogue - Markian
The estate feels transformed. Candles line the courtyard, lanterns swinging in the dusk, filling the air with a golden hush. For once, the guards keep a respectful distance, barely visible in the garden shadows.
Tonight, there are no Bratva meetings, no threats to weigh, no calculations to make, only this strange new anticipation winding tight in my chest.
I stand at the end of the aisle, tugging at my cuff links. Alexei appears at my shoulder, face blank as ever but eyes just a shade softer.
“Relax,” he murmurs, voice pitched for me alone. “You look like you’re going to an execution, not a wedding.”
I almost laugh, shifting on my feet. “Feels more dangerous,” I admit. “I’ve survived gunfire. I’m not sure I’ll survive this.”
He gives me the smallest smirk. “Just don’t faint, cousin.”
The courtyard doors open, and everyone stands. I catch my first glimpse of Jessa. She steps into the light, veil trailing behind, every inch of her radiating something delicate and fierce. My heart stutters.
Beside her, the twins bounce in their white dresses, flower crowns askew. Liana waves her bouquet at the crowd, nearly hitting Jessa in the knees. Sofia giggles, the petals falling in a trail behind them.
Lui leans over to the girls as they pass. “You two look like wild angels,” he whispers, and Sofia beams, showing her missing tooth.
Jessa’s gaze lifts and finds mine. All my nerves vanish. She’s here, she’s real. I breathe her in with every step. She hesitates just before reaching me, squeezing the twins’ hands. I step forward, offering my arm.
“Ready?” I ask, voice low.
She laughs, nervous and bright. “Absolutely.”
I lean close, teasing, “Too late to run now.”
She grins, blue eyes bright. “Don’t tempt me.” She takes my arm anyway, her fingers warm and sure.
Alexei moves to the twins, gently steering them to their places. “This way, small warriors,” he rumbles, and Liana giggles.
The priest welcomes us with old, careful Russian. “We gather to witness a new beginning,” he intones, then switches to English for the girls’ sake. “A family rebuilt. A future rewritten.”
I squeeze Jessa’s hand. She glances sideways at me, biting her lip. “Are you nervous?” she whispers.
I shake my head, smiling for only her. “Not with you.”
She exhales. “Me neither.”
We exchange vows, mine short and hoarse. “I take you, Jessa, as mine, forever. I love you, and I promise I won’t ever let you forget it.” Her voice trembles. “I promise to love you, even when it hurts. Even when I’m scared. Always.”
When the priest asks for the rings, Lui nearly fumbles them, making the twins giggle. I slide the band onto her finger, whispering, “Mine.” She presses my ring on, soft and shaking. “Always.”
“You may kiss the bride,” the priest says.
I lean in, and she lifts her face. The kiss is soft, but the world roars. The crowd applauds, the twins squeal, and I press my hand to the small of her back: claiming, shielding, needing her close.
Afterward, the reception fills with laughter. The girls spin in dizzy circles on the flagstones, clutching each other, bouquets tossed and forgotten. Lui scoops Sofia up, swinging her high. “Careful!” Jessa calls, laughing, one hand on my arm.
Alexei sits with his drink, stoic but smiling at the scene. He lifts his glass toward me as I approach. “Welcome to married life, Markian. Better you than me.”
I sit beside Jessa, arm tight around her waist. She leans her head against my shoulder. “Is it real?” she asks quietly.
I squeeze her hand. “Yes. We did this. We survived.”
She blushes as I lean in and murmur, “Wait until you see what’s waiting upstairs.”
She swats me, giggling. “Behave.”
Lui pops up with the girls, both wild with sugar and excitement. “Papa! Dance!” Liana cries.
Jessa stands, smoothing her dress. “He can’t dance,” she teases.
I rise, pretending to be affronted. “I can. I just don’t want to outshine you.”
She grins. “Prove it.”
So I spin her under the fairy lights, my bride laughing in my arms. Sofia and Liana swirl around our legs. Alexei and Lui clap along from their table, Alexei shouting, “Don’t drop her, Markian!”
“Never,” I promise, grinning, and Jessa squeezes my hand, her eyes shining.
***
As the night winds down, Jessa and I slip away. I lead her to our room, heart racing. She steps into the lamplight, the lace of her lingerie catching every curve, every promise. My mouth goes dry.
She smiles, nervous and radiant. “Well?”
I cross the room in two strides, catching her face in my hands. “You’re mine now,” I whisper.
“I always was,” she whispers back.
The first kiss is slow, reverent, my hands trembling as I trace the silk at her waist. “Are you sure?” I murmur.
She nods, pulling me closer. “I’ve never been more sure.”
We fall into bed together, laughter and breathlessness giving way to touch. She slides her hands under my shirt, her lips hungry against mine. I worship her with every kiss, every careful movement, tasting the salt of her tears and her laughter.
“Tell me you love me,” I whisper into her neck.
She threads her fingers through my hair, voice trembling. “I love you.”
Those three words burn through me, sweeter than any vow, deeper than any promise. My mouth crashes back to hers, hungry now, desperate to claim every inch of her.
She arches beneath me, pressing closer, her legs winding around my waist as my hands slide beneath the lace of her lingerie.
Her skin is warm and soft, the silk a whisper against my palms. I take my time, peeling the fabric away, kissing a trail down her throat, over her collarbone, lower and lower until she’s shivering for me.
She gasps as I find her breast, teasing her nipple with my tongue, my hand stroking the curve of her hip, memorizing the feel of her. Her hips lift to meet me, desperate for friction, for my touch.
I slide my hand between her thighs, fingers slipping through her heat, and her head falls back, a broken sound spilling from her lips.
“Markian, please—”
I groan, the sound raw, and push two fingers inside her, thumb circling her clit until she’s writhing, clutching at my shoulders, her body arching. “That’s it, love,” I murmur against her skin. “Let me hear you.”
She moans, her hands tangled in my hair, pulling me up for a kiss as I work her, slow and deep, drawing her to the edge. “I need you,” she breathes, voice wrecked.
“You have me,” I growl.
I push inside her, slow and deep, and we both gasp. Her nails digging into my back, my hand fisted in her hair. I thrust, building a rhythm, hard and desperate but never rough, every movement a confession, a promise.
She cries out, shattering around me, her body clenching tight as I follow, spilling into her with a groan. We collapse together, tangled in sweat and silk and the sound of our hearts, her lips soft against my shoulder.
“I love you,” she whispers again as I hold her close, and I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it back.
*****
THE END