43. Forty-Three
FORTY-THREE
HARLOWE
“Are you okay?” Luna’s hand touched my arm.
“Better than I’ve been in a long time,” I admitted as the elevator descended.
Her smile was knowing. “Welcome to the dark side. The view is much better from here.”
We rode in comfortable silence to Atlas’s penthouse. As we entered the expansive space, I noticed subtle differences from Arrow’s home—warmer colors, more personal touches. Signs of a life being built together rather than just a space to exist in.
“Make yourself at home,” Luna said, kicking off her shoes with a grateful sigh. “I’ve set up the guest room for you. There’s a new nightgown on the bed—my wedding gift to you.”
“Thank you,” I said, genuinely touched by her thoughtfulness. “For everything.”
She waved away my gratitude, moving toward the kitchen. “I’m going to open that champagne. You change into something comfortable.”
The guest room was elegant but cozy, decorated in shades of cream and gold. On the bed lay a box wrapped in silver paper with a black ribbon. I set down my overnight bag and opened it, finding a delicate silk nightgown in blood red—Arrow’s favorite color on me. The note inside read simply:
“For your first night as Mrs. Romanov.”
I changed quickly, the silk cool against my skin. When I returned to the living room, Frank was sitting at the kitchen counter, scrolling through his phone and drinking a whiskey.
“Frank,” I said in surprise.
Frank looked up from his phone, offering me a warm smile. “I’m on bride duty tonight.”
Luna handed me a glass of champagne, bubbles fizzing to the surface like my own nerves. “Security is doubled everywhere. Between Atlas and your husband-to-be, you and I are well-protected.”
“More importantly,” Frank said with a grin, “I’m on champagne duty.” He nodded toward the bottle chilling in an ice bucket. “Atlas’s orders were explicit—keep you ladies well-supplied and safe.”
I laughed, settling on the plush sofa. “So this is what normal people do before weddings? Drink champagne and have sleepovers?”
“Nothing about our lives is normal,” Luna said, easing herself onto the couch beside me, one hand cradling her belly. “But we can pretend for one night.”
Frank moved to the corner of the room, maintaining a respectful distance while still keeping us in his sightline. His presence was oddly comforting—a reminder that even here, in this moment of strange normalcy, the world we inhabited remained dangerous.
“Are you nervous?” Luna asked, studying my face over the rim of her glass.
I considered the question, swirling the champagne in my glass. “Not in the way I should be,” I admitted. “I’m not afraid of marrying Arrow. I’m afraid of what comes after.”
“The politics,” she nodded, understanding immediately. “The expectations. The target it puts on both your backs.”
“Exactly.” I took a long sip of champagne, letting the bubbles dance on my tongue. “Everyone will be watching, waiting for us to fail. My father thinks I’ll betray Arrow. Arrow’s family thinks I’ll destroy him from within. And somewhere in the middle of all that . . .”
“You found something real,” Luna finished for me, her eyes gentle. “Something neither of you expected.”
I stared into my glass, watching the bubbles rise and burst. “Is it real?” I whispered, the question hanging between us like smoke. “Or are we just clinging to each other because we’re both drowning?”
Luna studied me for a long moment, her eyes soft with understanding. “Does it matter? If you’re both drowning and you save each other, isn’t that real enough?”
I took another sip of champagne, letting her words sink in. “I never planned this. Any of it.”
“None of us do,” Luna said. “I certainly didn’t plan to fall for Atlas. And now look at me.” She gestured to her swollen stomach with a rueful smile. I smiled, taking another sip of champagne. “So what’s your advice? As someone who survived marrying into this insanity?”
“Survive is putting it mildly,” Luna laughed, running her hand over her belly.
“But here’s what I’ve learned—in this world, love isn’t soft.
It’s not gentle poems and candlelit dinners.
It’s blood oaths and protection. It’s knowing someone would burn down cities for you.
” She leaned closer, her voice dropping.
“Arrow may never say the words you’re waiting to hear.
Men like him aren’t built that way. But watch his actions—they speak volumes. ”
I thought about how Arrow had looked at me earlier tonight, how he’d touched me with such reverence. How different it felt from the violent claiming I’d grown accustomed to.
“I’m not waiting for words,” I said, surprising myself with the truth of it. “I stopped believing in pretty words a long time ago.”
Luna nodded, understanding flashing in her eyes. “Then you’re already ahead of where I was.”
We talked for hours, the champagne flowing freely as Luna shared stories about her early days with Atlas—how they’d fought against their attraction, how violently they’d collided when they finally gave in.
Frank maintained his post by the door, occasionally refilling our glasses, mine champagne, and Luna’s sparkling water, but otherwise giving us the privacy to speak freely.
“Did you ever regret it?” I asked as the night grew late and our voices dropped to whispers. “Choosing Atlas? This life?”
Luna’s hand drifted to her belly, a small smile playing on her lips. “Never. Not even in the darkest moments. This life—it’s not easy. It’s not safe. But it’s ours.” She reached for my hand and squeezed it gently. “And tomorrow, it will be yours too.”
I was choosing this—choosing Arrow, choosing us against everyone else. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t being forced, manipulated, or sold. I was walking into this with my eyes open.
“Get some sleep,” Luna said, stifling a yawn. “Tomorrow will be chaotic enough without you being exhausted.”
I nodded, finishing the last of my champagne before standing. “Thank you,” I said. “For this. For everything.”
“That’s what family does,” she replied simply, and the word—family—hit me with unexpected force.
I’d lost my mother. My father had sold me. My brother was dead. Yet somehow, in the midst of all that loss, I’d found something new. Something chosen rather than inherited.
“Do you happen to know a tattoo artist who does house calls?”
“Actually, I do.” Luna grinned mischievously. “Atlas has a guy who’s very discreet. What are you planning?”
I smiled, feeling a strange sense of certainty wash over me. “A wedding gift for Arrow. Something permanent.”
Luna’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Fuck sleep. I’ll make a call. She can be here in thirty minutes.”
“Perfect.”
True to her word, thirty minutes later, a petite woman with sleeve tattoos and a septum piercing arrived at the penthouse. Frank checked her through, and Nika introduced herself and set up her equipment while Luna watched with fascination.
“What are we doing tonight?” Nika asked, snapping on black gloves. I showed her what I wanted.
“Where do you want it?” she asked.
I touched the spot just below my left breast, right across my ribcage. “Here. Where he’ll see it every time he undresses me.”
Frank raised an eyebrow but said nothing, maintaining his post by the door while Luna settled beside me on the couch for moral support.
Luna squeezed my hand as I lay back on the couch, the buzz of the tattoo gun filling the quiet room. The pain was sharp but cleansing.
“Almost done,” Nika murmured, wiping away the excess ink. “It’s beautiful.”
When she finished, I examined her work in a hand mirror. The ink was a testament against my skin.
“It’s perfect,” I said.
After Nika left with a generous payment and instructions for care, Luna hugged me gently. “Now, you should get some rest. Tomorrow’s a big day, and it starts early.”
Tomorrow, I will marry Arrow Romanov. The thought no longer filled me with dread or resignation. Whatever came after—whatever plots my father had set in motion, whatever challenges Arrow’s family presented—we would face together.
For the first time in my life, I wasn’t alone.