Epilogue
ARTYOM
Six months later…
The last time I did this, it was for the wrong reasons. I never asked. I never got down on one knee. I never made sure Nina saw how much I love her in front of a roomful of people. Tonight, that all changes, just as it damn well should.
My wife is across the room, deep in conversation with Lisette. The shimmering crimson gown she’s wearing is regal and sexy, the draped fabric showing off her baby bump. Her curves are filling out with every passing week. She tips her head back and laughs, sweeping her dark hair over her shoulders.
I think her and Lisette have bonded over being outsiders. You wouldn’t know it — Lisette fits perfectly into the Bratva, while Nina has gained a kind of notoriety as rumors about Polina’s death have spread. Fuelled, I am sure, by Babushka, who is looking on at this event with a twinkle in her eye.
When I approach, Lisette’s face lights up and she gives me a very unsubtle thumbs up. I don’t know how the Viktor Zakharov, the unpleasant bastard he is, managed to find someone who is his polar opposite.
Today was the baptism of Lisette and Viktor’s first child, and the entirety of the Bratva is packed into the after-party.
The perfect setting to do this the way it should have been done from the start.
I asked our hosts’ permission out of respect.
Viktor made a face as though he didn’t understand why I was bothering him with this question.
On the other hand, Lisette gushed for ten minutes about how she was honored that I wanted to do it at their event.
They make an odd couple. She’s warm to everyone, and Viktor is only warm to her.
“I think your husband has something to say, Nina,” Lisette says, pointing me out as soon as I approach. Then she clinks her knife against her champagne glass so that every head in the room turns towards us.
With a dramatic flourish, she gestures towards me.
Everyone’s watching. Good.
I take Nina’s hands in mine, watching her face move from amusement to surprise as she realizes that this is about her.
Then I get down on one knee.
Nina looks down at me with a confused look on her face, but she can’t stop a smile from twitching at the corner of her mouth. She places a hand on my shoulder.
“Artyom… I’m the one recovering from a head injury here. You’re aware that we’re already married, right?”
“Nenoka, this isn’t about asking you to marry me. This is about asking you to love me. It’s different.”
“You romantic, Artyom Petrov. Did you want to actually ask me the question this time?”
“Will you?”
“Marry you?” Her eyes spark with amusement. “I already did.”
“Will you promise me forever?”
I need to hear her say it. With how close I got to losing her, I need her to promise me this.
Nina rakes a hand through my hair. “Forever,” she repeats, and I slide the second ring onto her finger.
It slides into place next to the vine-leaf patterned ring. It’s shinier, and newer. A fresh start, just for us, without the baggage that went with the legacy of my family. I wanted Nina to have something that’s entirely her own.
When the applause dies down, I pull Nina close. She’s still looking at the ring — the gold band is patterned with veins. Her lip wobbles as she examines the inscription.
This was always forever.
“I am not a patient man, but I would have waited an eternity for you,” I whisper into her ear.
“I do think you proved your lack of patience when you got yourself shot because I wouldn’t talk to you,” Nina laughs softly through her tears, raising a hand to my face. “We both waited too long for this.”
“I was an idiot to believe you left.”
“And I should never have believed Polina.”
Nina meets my gaze, her amber eyes level and even. It’s the first time she’s said Polina’s name since that day in the basement. But she doesn’t look afraid, or regretful, anymore.
“We never have to go through that again.”
“I know,” Nina bites her lip, looking up at me. “If we have to, at least we know that we can.”
“Damn right.”
I bend down for a kiss, but she places a hand on my chest to stop me.
“You really want me to wear another ring every day?”
Yes. If Nina ended up with a piece of jewelry from me on every finger, every limb, it still wouldn’t be enough.
“I do.”
I take my hand and kiss the new ring on her finger, then brush my lips over Nina’s mouth. Her lips part and her breath hitches in her throat as I deepen the kiss.
This isn’t for show anymore. People can look all they want, but this kiss is just for me and my wife. She’s promised me forever and I will gladly accept it.
She’s all fucking mine — so I take it slow. We’ve got all the time in the world.
Thanks for reading!