Epilogue
Milana
Six Months Later…
Artyom looks at me seriously, lowering his voice. “For the last time, are you sure you still want to do this? If you’ve changed your mind, it’s not too late for us to just cancel the wedding and do away with him.”
It's my wedding day, and for the last five minutes, my brothers have been making sure I’m absolutely certain this is what I want.
“Mhm,” Mikhail agrees from where he’s gently rocking his baby boy, Lev, in his arms. Lev is half-asleep against his shoulder.
I level both of them with a look as I wait for the make-up artist to finish applying my lipstick before speaking.
“Would the two of you stop trying to convince me not to marry my fiancé?”
They both back up slightly, hands raised. “We were just saying,” Mikhail mutters.
Just then, the door opens and the women all walk in.
Kira walks in first, their baby girl, Nastya balanced comfortably on her hip, with Calina and Irina following close behind.
Kira doesn’t even make it three steps into the room before narrowing her eyes at her husband.
She looks from him to me, and back to him again. “Were you trying to talk her out of getting married again?”
Artyom opens his mouth. “Well—”
Without another word, she transfers Nastya into his arms.
The baby barely settles against his chest before Artyom’s entire demeanor changes. The intimidating Bratva boss disappears.
In his place is an utterly devoted father adjusting the pink headwrap on his little girl’s head with surprising gentleness.
Mikhail quickly stands as well, bouncing his sleepy son a little higher on his shoulder.
“We'll leave you ladies to it. See you at the altar kiddo.” He comes and kisses my forehead while Artyom gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze before they both leave the room.
I can’t help but laugh. The way my brothers, so strong and deadly, immediately turn soft when their wives are involved, never gets old.
The makeup artist steps back from her work. “There.” She smiles proudly. “All done.”
The women look at me and say, “Wow, you’re so beautiful.”
Then Calina presses both hands over her mouth.
“Oh…” Her eyes immediately fill with tears. “Don’t mind me. It’s the hormones.” She fans at her eyes.
Calina is only a few months pregnant, and she’s become incredibly emotional.
The smallest thing can set her off, the tears and waterworks just start coming.
She walks over and carefully hugs me. “I’m so happy for you.”
“So am I,” Irina says, wrapping both arms around both of us. Kira joins the hug a second later.
“You deserve this, Mila.”
“Thank you.” I smile at each of them. “I’ve never been happier.”
The words come from the deepest part of me. “I’m marrying the love of my life.”
Another chorus of emotional sighs follows. Calina dabs at her eyes again.
“There they go,” Kira teases.
We all laugh again. As the laughter dies down, Irina reaches into her handbag.
“Oh, I almost forgot.”
She pulls out two pregnancy test sticks and holds them up. “You still want to check?”
As I stare at them, my stomach immediately flips. For the past few days, I’ve been feeling off. Nauseous, easily tired.
After I threw up twice this morning, the women insisted I take a pregnancy test. And Irina offered to go get me one. Now here they are.
“I really think it’s probably just a bug,” I say.
Irina and Kira exchange an amused look. Then, in unison— “That’s what I thought too.”
The two of them dissolve into laughter.
I look at Calina, she smiles knowingly. “The only way to find out is to take the test.”
“If you’re not pregnant,” she continues, “great. You can drink champagne at your wedding without worrying.”
I look down at the tests in Irina’s hand. “That’s actually a good point.”
I take a slow breath. “Okay.” I reach for one of the tests and head for the bathroom.
Kirill
I stand in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting the cuff of my black tuxedo for what has to be the fifth time.
“You’ve already fixed that twice.”
I glance at Maxim’s reflection. He’s straightening the lapels of his own suit, looking entirely too relaxed.
He walks over. “Here, let me help you. I believe it's my duty as the best man.”
“Glad you remembered,” I huff.
Over the last six months, Maxim and I have grown close enough that I now consider him a friend. When I asked him to be my best man, he accepted without hesitation, saying it would be an honor.
“You nervous?” he asks.
I study my reflection for another second before letting out a quiet breath.
“A little.”
A grin spreads across his face. “Don’t worry.” He smooths an imaginary crease from my jacket. “She’s not going to run.”
I snort. “I know that.”
“So stop looking like you’re about to walk into a firing squad.”
I turn to face him. “Were you nervous?”
He opens his mouth. Then I remember. A smirk tugs at my lips. “Of course, you didn’t have to be. You were forcing Calina to marry you.”
Maxim throws his head back and laughs. “I swear, no one in this family is ever going to let that go, are they?”
“Probably not.”
His laughter fades into a fond smile. “I was nervous.”
That surprises me. “Were you?”
He nods. “I know it looked like I gave her no choice.”
His expression grows thoughtful.
“But the truth is, I already knew that it was never going to stay a marriage on paper like I had intended.”
A small smile appears on his face. “The moment I met Calina, every plan I’d made fell apart.”
There’s a sincerity in his voice that makes me think about Milana. About how impossible it is to picture my own future without her in it.
A knock sounds against the door, Mikhail and Artyom walk in holding their kids.
Mikhail whistles low. “Damn.” He looks me up and down. “You clean up nice.”
Artyom scowls at me. I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. For the last six months, he’s threatened to shoot me, bury me, and remove various parts of my anatomy if I ever hurt his sister.
At this point, I’m fairly certain another threat is coming. The funny part is that one minute he’s threatening my life, and the next he’s welcoming me into the family. It’s become our strange version of bonding.
He steps closer until we’re standing face-to-face. “If you ever make my sister cry…” His voice drops. “If you ever hurt her, I don’t care if it’s ten years from now or fifty…”
“You’ll put a bullet in me,” I finish for him, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “I know. You can save the speech.”
I’ll never do anything to hurt Milana. Not while I still have breath in my body.
Before the conversation can go any further, another knock sounds at the door. The wedding planner pokes her head inside, smiling warmly.
“Gentlemen.” Her eyes land on me. “It’s time.”
The cathedral is already full by the time I take my place at the altar.
Sunlight streams through the towering stained-glass windows, painting ribbons of crimson, sapphire, and gold across the polished marble floor.
Hundreds of white roses line the aisle, their fragrance drifting through the air, while countless candles flicker softly beneath the vaulted ceiling.
Family fills the front pews. Behind them sit close friends, business associates, men I’ve worked beside for years, and people who’ve traveled across continents to witness this day.
The low murmur of conversation echoes through the cathedral before gradually fading into silence as the first notes of the organ fill the cathedral.
“Here Comes the Bride.”
Every guest rises to their feet. The massive cathedral doors slowly begin to open.
My breath catches as Milana stands framed by the afternoon sunlight, a bouquet of flowers cradled in her hands.
For one suspended moment, the entire world disappears.
She wears an elegant off-the-shoulder wedding gown that was made just for her. The fitted bodice hugs her perfectly before flowing into layers of soft satin that trail behind her in a long, graceful train.
Delicate lace embroidered with tiny pearls climbs over the sleeves and cascades down the skirt, catching the light every time she moves.
A cathedral-length veil falls from the back of her head, drifting gently behind her with each step.
Her hair has been swept into an elegant low chignon, a few soft curls framing her face.
She’s breathtaking. No. Breathtaking doesn’t begin to describe her. She looks ethereal. Like something too beautiful to belong in the real world.
Her eyes find mine almost immediately and she smiles. That smile undoes me completely.
She begins walking down the aisle. Each step brings her closer. Each step reminds me that this is real. That in a matter of minutes, she’s going to become my wife.
By the time she reaches the altar, I don’t think I’ve taken a single proper breath. Artyom places her hand in mine, and I help her up the final steps toward the priest.
As soon as we’re standing beside each other, I lean closer. “You look beautiful.”
She smiles, her cheeks flushing softly. “So do you.”
The ceremony begins. I barely hear half of it, I’m too busy looking at my bride.
When it’s time for the vows, our eyes never leave each other. Every promise feels heavier because I know I’ll spend the rest of my life keeping it.
The rings are exchanged. Then finally, priest smiles.
“By the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
A grin spreads across my face before he even finishes.
“You may kiss your bride.”
I don’t hesitate. My hand cups her face as I pull her gently toward me, and our lips meet in a soft, tender kiss.
The cathedral erupts. Applause echoes off the stone walls. Whistles, cheering, but I barely register any of them.
Only when the priest clears his throat rather pointedly do we finally part.
We sign the wedding certificate, and then we move on to the reception, held at a beautiful private estate overlooking the water. It’s perfect. Everything feels perfect.
I’ve accomplished many things in my life, but making Milana my wife, having her agree to spend the rest of her life with me, has to be the greatest one.
Having such a beautiful, strong woman willing to do life with me is something I never thought I’d have.
I barely make it through the bedroom door before my hands are on her.
My wife. The thought still sends a rush through me. I cup her face and kiss her deeply, unable to stop smiling. Every time I look at her, I remember that she’s finally mine.
My lips trail from her mouth to her jaw as I reach for the buttons running down the back of her wedding dress.
“I’ve been waiting all day to get you out of this dress,” I murmur against her skin.
A soft laugh escapes her. “I know.”
My fingers make quick work of the first few buttons, my patience wearing thinner with each passing second.
Just as I’m about to undo another one, she gently catches my wrist.
“Wait.”
I pause, looking up at her. “Something wrong?”
A smile spreads across her face, one that tells me she’s hiding something. “I have a surprise for you.”
She smiles without saying a word. Instead, she walks over to her purse resting on the dresser.
She reaches inside, pulls something out, then turns back to me.
“Here.” She places it in my hand.
For a second, I don’t understand what I’m looking at. Then recognition hits, it's a pregnancy test.
Confused, I look up at her. “What…”
My eyes drop back to the test. The word “Pregnant” is clear on the digital screen.
I look up at her, stunned. “Is this real? Are we having a baby?”
She nods, smiling through happy tears. “Yes. I found out this morning.”
I sweep her off her feet, lifting her into my arms and kissing her deeply, spinning her around once before setting her back down.
“We’re having a baby!”
She laughs, the sound bright and full of joy. “Yes.”
I kiss her again, softer this time, cupping her face with both hands. “This is the greatest surprise ever. I love you. So much.”
She rests her forehead against mine, still smiling. “I love you too.”
I hold her close, one hand gently resting on her stomach, overwhelmed by the life we’ve built and the new one growing inside her.
Five years later, love has changed the Morozovs more than war ever could.