CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
ZARA
“Nyet. Vso koncheno. Vso sdelano.” No. It is finished. It is done.
Adorned in satin on what should be the happiest day of my life and spitting Russian at my irate father, I can’t catch my breath, can’t rein in my emotions.
I didn’t expect him and Tripp to show up, but their reaction and the ultimatums they’ve issued this past week have been beyond what I’d fretted about.
“There’s nothing left to say then, angel. You’ll do what you must. As will I. One stone.” He pauses, probably lamenting how our use of that symbol, that tool, that conviction has been shredded until it’s nothing but the dust and ashes of our end. But still, he extends his send-off. “Never say die.”
And I hate him so much right now. I hate him for every word he spoke in this conversation, every utterance that should have been an extension of love and pride because he has the burden of fulfilling the shoes of two parents.
Instead, he simply chose the rebuke and injunction of a commander. So, I treat him as such.
“Nikogda ne sdavaysya.” Never say die.
My tribulation manifests in a Hulk-like strength.
I toss my burner onto a desk forcefully enough that the plastic shell cracks, and of course that’s the precise moment that I sense a presence.
Spinning, I find Rena staring at me. She’s cute, youthful but perceptive.
Blonde hair with pink streaks, a nose and eyebrow piercing, edgy style, and a bright aura.
Axel called her the night of the Prohibition Ball to introduce me and tell her we were getting married in a few days.
I asked her to be one of my bridesmaids, along with Mercy and Tessa, and she squealed, so overjoyed for the man she considered a father to marry someone four years older than her.
It turns out, her husband is eight years her senior, so she’d be a hypocrite to judge.
Her excitement has evidently waned though. She’s scrutinizing me from the doorway of her old bedroom, which is set up as my wedding preparation area. But I don’t think my being in here is the issue.
“Everything okay?” she asks, sweet and suspicious. She was eavesdropping.
“Everything is wonderful.” The quaver ushering those words screams lie, so I recalibrate. “Other than my family’s opinions of current events.”
She blows out a heavy breath and shuts the door. “I got married without my brothers’ knowledge, so you can imagine how that went down.”
A shocked scoff flees from my lungs. “I’m not sure I can since everyone lived to tell about it.”
“Exactly.” She rushes over and tugs me into a straitjacket hug. “You look beautiful. Axel is so in love with you. I wish your family could see that.”
Me too, but it still wouldn’t solve everything.
My chest rumbles against hers, and my eyes and nose burn. “Let’s not do this. I need to forget about them today.”
She nods, but doesn’t let go. “Okay, but from one girl who lost her mom far too young to another, it’s okay to have mixed feelings about this.”
That is my breaking point. I sob in her arms, like a damn child, until my makeup is a disaster and I can’t stand up.
Until Mercy and Tessa storm in and curl around me on the floor.
Until I feel weak and embarrassed and Amy has to perform emergency surgery on the gown because the train is wrinkled, my mascara assaulted it, and I popped a button on the corset as I was trying to extract myself from it.
But then I pull myself together, and once I’m in a T-shirt and shorts, awaiting the fixes on my dress, they guide me to peek at Axel. He’s dashing in his tux, just like he was the night of the Prohibition Ball, though this one is a more modern cut with a long black tie.
But today, he’s tossing his niece and nephew—or pseudo-grandchildren—Lyric and Lennon, who keep shrieking, “Pap-paw.” Each of them giggles and bounces for more.
I’ve seen him as the doting uncle and the father to grown adults, but this tugs at my heartstrings much more dramatically.
I love him so much. This is the vision of a life I was told could never happen once I became an assassin, and witnessing it now only enhances the craving. And the fear that it will be stripped away.
It’s not just Axel either, though he’s never been sexier or more chivalrous. He rules the underworld and zerberts bellies. I’m not sure how to reconcile that. But the rest of the family only magnifies it.
With the help of Maddox and Cash, Remy is playing music and flaunting card tricks to the little ones in Rena’s family. The rest of the guys are drinking, the ladies are gabbing, Bernard (the dog) is running wild, and Bernard (the man) is beaming at the ruckus.
It’s chaos. And beauty. Family.
Pressing my palms against my chest, I try to quell the erratic thump of my heart. “It doesn’t feel real. And yet Axel is the most real thing I’ve ever had. But all of them together …”
“Love in action,” Tessa whispers beside me, a far more sentimental perspective than she traditionally offers.
Mercy pulls me snug against her. “And all yours now. You belong with us. This is your home.”
The tears start flowing again—happy, worried, and guilty ones.
“Okay, back you go,” Rena orders, corralling us in the direction of her old bedroom again. “C’mon, girls. Looks like we’re gonna have to get her liquored up.”
Home is the bullet you never see coming.
I didn’t get liquored up, but I did have a glass of cherry champagne to take the edge off. Ivy, Celeste, and Leigh—the women from Rena’s family—joined us, and a roomful of ladies reapplying my makeup, fussing over my hair, and sharing some hilarious and explicit tales had us all hysterical.
Soon, my only focus was the perfect ring on my finger (a toi et moi ring, which means you and me, and has two stones—one black diamond and one white on a band of thorns), the collar on my neck (my favorite possession ever), and the man who has turned my world upside down because he invites me to stand beside him, but adores me when I’m on my knees.
The ceremony was brief but marvelous—quaint with just the two families and a handful of employees. Before it began, Ryker pulled me aside and told me he knew Axel was a goner the day I’d arrived.
“He has the sharpest instincts and impeccable taste. High fucking standards for everything. And the glimmer in his eye when he looked at you was …” He trailed off, too overcome to provide a description, but he didn’t need to. His love for Axel was the real treasure, and that was a neon sign.
“There is no one more deserving of happiness than the man you’re marrying,” he continued once he collected himself.
“My father only left the resort to Axel. There was nothing left to the rest of us. I didn’t know that for a while because the first thing Axel did was split up the entire empire evenly.
The second thing he did was assume ninety-nine percent of the responsibility.
He is truly a king, and the way you’ve challenged him and made him forget the burden of it all tells me you are his perfect queen.
Not everything about this union will be easy, but we’re yours now.
It’s a package deal. If you ever need anything—anything—you can come to any of us. We’re your family now.”
I tried to keep it together when I hugged him, but when I released him, my eyes brimmed with glossy appreciation for everything these men were to each other and to me.
Panic coasted through his gaze. He said Mercy, Tessa, and Rena would kill him if he messed up my makeup.
That made me laugh. I could hardly blame them.
My face really had been through it already.
Cash swooped in for the rescue and escorted me down the aisle, which he found to be hilarious.
He credited himself with being our matchmaker.
A stretch. But I let him have it. Axel glared at him, though it was all in jest. And when his gaze swung to me, he got so choked up that he had to look away and clear his throat.
I knew right then that no matter what the future held, I had already lived a magical life because in his eyes, I was the whole universe.
Remy was the cutest ring bearer there ever was.
Jax played Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata on a banjo.
It was impressive and oddly fitting. Maddox was our officiator.
He referred to me as Slugger and told everyone that Papa Axe had fallen in love with me because I kicked his ass.
That was a proud moment until he humbled me by adding that he was grateful to have me as his stepmom, though he thought I was a little young for the job. Charming.
We’re celebrating now. Some of the decor boasts of our love for literature, with books open to quotes we’ve exchanged as table centerpieces, an arch composed of beloved novels, and various other details that make it feel like Axel and me.
Even the aisle for the ceremony looked like an unrolled scroll.
Other than that, the theme is similar to the Prohibition Ball because Rena wasn’t able to attend, and that was the party at which Axel announced me to his members, so it seemed fitting to replicate its essence for our reception.
All the opulence that colored that as an event to remember is boasted here, on a smaller scale. But it’s perfect.
The scents of Chanel No. 5 and cognac permeate the air. And I feel like a princess in my strapless satin gown and Louboutin heels, inside a 1920s-inspired castle—or resort—complete with champagne and secret passageways, swing music and a dance floor that demands attention.
It’s been four days since the ball, and my feet still ache. We danced for several hours straight and didn’t go to sleep until the sun was high over the Mississippi River.