Epilogue 2 — Yulian
TWO YEARS LATER
I’m late.
Fuck.
I’m late.
The reality of my tardiness slaps me in the face when applause reaches my ears.
A wave of cheers and laughter rolls out from the wedding attendees into the cool evening air.
I’m gloriously late.
Nikolai and Brandon step into the courtyard as Nikolai sucks Brandon’s face, then they grin as petals rain over their heads.
Family members and friends shout their approval and congratulations to the couple who tied the knot today in a ceremony I should’ve attended.
In theory, at least.
In reality, Lukas demanded that I was present during a stupid last-minute meeting in London with the higher-ups of the new corporation he acquired and dragged me into.
Well, I had to be there, considering I own most of the shares, since, obviously, my money was used to fund it, and, therefore, my vote was needed on the expansion strategy.
I told Vaughn it’d just be a couple of hours, mostly because he seemed dejected when I had to leave the retreat Niko planned for his wedding.
Everyone and their uncle knows Niko insisted on this date mainly because his best friend, Jeremy, is getting married in a couple of months, and he refused to be left behind.
Obviously, my meeting took longer than a couple of hours, was extended to today, and I had to spend the night in London. I signed off, nodded, smiled while picturing the head of anyone who made the meeting longer with their unnecessary opinions on a stick, and bolted the moment I could.
The flight to Tuscany took longer than I wanted, and then some idiot nearly crashed into me as I was driving from the airport.
Now I’m here, weaving through the crowd as people pour out of the ceremony area, hugging the grooms, slapping their backs, showering them with blessings.
I catch Nikolai and pull him in for a quick hug. “Congrats, motherfucker. You’re going to have your hands full, Brandon.”
“I’m fine with that,” Brandon says with a soft smile.
“We gonna fight later?” Nikolai grins, and Brandon gives him a look. “Okay, maybe, like, after the honeymoon.”
“We’ll see.”
He whispers, “Let’s hide it from my lotus flower and V, yeah?”
I laugh, and he makes a discreet “call me” gesture. “Oh, by the way. Your man didn’t look pleased about your absence, just saying.”
I groan. “Was he mad?”
“Hard to tell. He always looks mad.”
I groan again and rush through the clusters of guests, leaving the courtyard for the reception area outside.
Nikolai—or most likely Brandon—wanted to go for a stunning Tuscany vineyard-chateau destination wedding.
The place looks like it was carved out of a dream filled with so much good wine.
Rolling hills stretch in every direction, thick with vines so green, they look ethereal under the summer sun.
The chateau rises behind the vineyard and all around us—its stone walls warm from centuries of heat—and ivy curls up toward its terracotta roof.
The ceremony was set in the courtyard that’s emptying now, framed by old cypress trees and strung with linen banners that sway just enough to catch the scent of grapes and roses. Long rows of white chairs still hold the hum of voices from moments ago, petals scattered across the aisle.
And that’s where I find him.
Vaughn’s standing at the altar, his hands in his pockets, the golden streaks of the late-afternoon sun catching on the crisp lines of his tux. His bow tie tied to perfection, his white shirt stretches over his muscular shoulders, and every inch of him is carved to make my heart ache.
He looks mouthwatering, but then again, he always has.
If he sees the state of my barely-put-together tux, he’ll sigh and fix it—my bow tie, my cuff links, my shirt. And he’ll look so adorably concentrated while doing it. That’s why I put in as little effort as possible, encouraging his perfectionist tendencies.
Over the past couple of years, he’s often insisted on taking me shopping for clothes, carefully picking things that suit me, especially leather.
In the beginning, I thought it was because he enjoyed the task of clothes shopping for his lover and I was salty about him doing it with Danika, but he said he couldn’t care less what Danika wore, yet he definitely does with me.
He especially wants us to ride safely on the bike, hence all the protective leather he splurges on.
Let’s just say I’ve ripped that leather off him more times than I can count.
I lick my lips as I watch him.
I love how he looks calm to the outside world but turns into my beautiful, sexy Vaughn in private. Sometimes domineering, other times needy, but often times just wanting to hold me to him the moment he sees me.
It’s why I didn’t sleep well last night. Because he wasn’t there to run his fingers through my hair. I’m so goddamn addicted to him and used to him and irrevocably in love with him, I won’t be able to survive if I ever have to live without him.
Now that we’re graduating—yes, Vaughn is graduating early—I’m moving to New York; I don’t care about Chicago.
Okay, I do, but truly, Lukas is doing an awesome job, and I’ve kind of gotten closer to him since Dad’s death.
Mikailo as well. Alya insists on inviting us over to Boston for family dinners all the time.
The other day, we went to meet our newborn niece. She has the cutest little face that I nearly devoured, and I’m so going to spoil her shitless in true uncle fashion.
As Lukas, Mikailo, and I were making faces at the little girl, Alya said, “Seems that we needed Dad to die so all of us could finally be free.”
And she’s right. I never tolerated Lukas and Mikailo like I do now. Though it might also have to do with the fact that they don’t have opinions on my sexuality like Dad did. In fact, Lukas and Vaughn get along well—too well for my liking.
Similar personalities and all that.
But yeah, Chicago doesn’t really need me yet. Maybe it will in the future, but for now, I’m totally moving to New York so I can be with my Vaughn. I can say I’m going there to help out with our newly found alliance and all that.
I still haven’t told Vaughn this yet, but I have to soon because, while being together on the island during college has been fine, I think he’s also been stressing a bit about the future now that college is over. It’s probably why he’s been a bit secretive and withdrawn lately.
As I walk toward him now, with the area empty, a devilish thought hits me.
I could marry him here and now.
No audience, no rings, just me walking up that aisle and not stopping until I’m close enough to tell him exactly how many times I’ve already imagined it.
Just him being mine forever.
Though I’m not sure about bringing it up, because the other day, when I jokingly asked his dad for his hand, to which his dad replied that I still need to prove myself—Kirill is just playing hard to get; he loves me—Vaughn got flustered and said we were still young.
It kind of hurt. I mean, yeah, we’re still young, but Niko is also young, and he’s already tied the knot.
I feel like Vaughn will really make me work for it—the marriage proposal, I mean. I’m kind of worried about asking for his hand and having him tell me no.
Will probably make me depressed, no kidding.
While Vaughn has been all in with our relationship, he’s been weird lately, and I just…well, it makes me uncomfortable. That’s because of all the time he ignored me.
And yes, I’m still petty.
To test the waters, I called Gareth and asked what the best way would be to propose to Vaughn since he’s basically his best friend. Gareth said, “The best way to propose is not to propose. I repeat. Do not do it, Yulian.”
That kind of soured my mood. Cy didn’t help either, and Alya said to just go for it since Vaughn loves me and will definitely say yes.
I consider her words as I watch him, then remember that she’s some sort of hopeless romantic.
But really, he looks so good here, framed by flowers and fading sunlight, like my own fairy-tale prince. A dark one, because, really, he can be a freak in the sheets. His dirty mouth is no joke now.
No one would look at the put-together Vaughn and guess that he fucks like a sex god and has the filthiest mouth.
But I totally love that I’m the only one who gets to see that side of him.
The unhinged, out-of-control, and even needy side.
He’s all mine.
Mine, mine, mine—
Vaughn tilts his head in my direction as if he feels me watching. Those stunning hazel eyes lock on mine, and for a moment, the noise of the crowd disappears.
There’s something curious about the way he looks at me like I’m his world, even in the middle of everything else. His gaze would find mine anywhere, and just like now, his lips curl in a smile.
I let out a breath. If he’s smiling, he can’t be that mad.
“Sorry I’m late.” I stride toward him and gather him in my arms, burying my head in his neck to inhale him.
His scent goes to my head in an instant, leaving me breathless.
God, I missed him, and it hasn’t even been that long.
He strokes my hair in that way he does when I’m lying on top of him, drifting off to sleep. “It’s not your fault you were held up.”
“I know, but I wanted to spend the weekend here with you.”
“Me, too.”
I pull away, staying close enough to smell a whiff of his cologne. “You’re mad I didn’t make it.”
“I’m not.”
“Don’t lie to me. You were looking forward to this, and I ruined it. I’ll be making Lukas’s life miserable.”
“Leave him alone. He barely knows how to deal with you.”
“You’re taking my brother’s side now?”
“No, I just like that you’re finally getting along with your siblings.”
“You’re still mad at me.”
“I’m not mad, baby.”
“Vaughn…”
“It’s just that I had something planned and it obviously didn’t take place because you weren’t here.”
“Oh.” I grin. “We can do it later tonight! What is it? Some niche restaurant you found?”
His eyes widen. “Actually, you’re right. I can just do it anyway.”
“Want to go right after the reception…”
I trail off when Vaughn lowers himself to his knee in front of me and pulls out a black velvet box.
“I wanted to do this last night, even thought of decorating the courtyard and planned a romantic dinner, but I don’t need all that to tell you how much you mean to me, Yulian.
You’re the reason I know what love is, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, ruling side by side, leaning on one another and just loving each other as best we can. Will you marry me?”
He opens the box, showing the two rings, and I stare, dumbfounded, all sorts of emotions sparking through me as I blink the moisture from my eyes.
“Yuli?” he asks, seeming on edge. “Baby, say something.”
“When I brought up marriage the last time we went to your parents’ place, you said we were too young.”
“That’s because I didn’t want you to propose first.”
“Is that why Gareth insisted I didn’t propose?”
“Yeah. He knew I was planning it.”
“Baby…don’t play with me like that,” I grumble. “I thought you didn’t want to do that with me.”
“I want to do everything with you, Yulian.”
“Me, too.”
“So…is that a yes?”
“Of course it’s a yes.” I grab him by the elbow and pull him up. Vaughn grins like crazy as he puts the band on my finger.
Mine has Volchonok in Cyrillic engraved on the inside.
His has Mishka.
“You like your ring?” Vaughn asks with a note of hope.
“I’ll never take it off. Like never.”
He grins, wrapping his arm around my neck. “Me neither, future husband.”
“I have a question, future husband,” I speak close to his mouth. “Can you become my husband, like, tomorrow?”
He laughs, and I kiss him through it.
Vaughn and I began with blood, and we’ll have blood throughout our lives, but we’ll be together despite everything.
As leaders.
As husbands.
As soulmates.
THE END