Epilogue - Konstantin
Two months later
It was a long road to get here, but now I stood in the bedroom of my nephew Aleks’s home, straightening the buttons on my tuxedo.
There was a flurry of activity down the hall, and a virtual hive of workers downstairs and outside in the garden, putting the finishing touches on the flowered arch and mile long buffet.
There was never a doubt in my mind that this day would happen, but I didn’t think it would arrive so soon. I was willing to wait for much longer to be able to call Tati my wife and have it be true, but my nieces swore they could work a miracle and they did.
Tati swore she was recovered enough to participate when Nat and Mila converged on the apartment in LA we first returned to, and she seemed to take great delight in choosing flowers and fabrics and everything else that was involved in planning a huge family wedding on short notice.
My oldest sons popped their head in, a bottle of champagne in their hands. “Need anything?” Mikhail asked.
He was the easiest to convince this wasn’t a midlife crisis or grave mistake.
He took to Tati at once, never bringing up any embarrassing stories he might have remembered from when she was much younger.
She admitted that she never actually had any kind of crush on him, and she only said that to get under my skin, so I could rest easy with her being around my handsome eldest son.
Lukyan, who had been living in Italy until his younger brothers showed up, had returned to Moscow when Sofiya arrived to try to wrangle the twins.
He was enjoying LA far too much and I suspected he was going to stay a while, if not put down roots in this eternally sunny city.
He held out three champagne glasses and urged Mik to open the bottle, wanting to continue the bachelor party I had given up on early, but they continued well into the night with their older cousins.
“Where’s Sofiya?” I asked.
While Mikhail jumped on board easily, and Lukyan decided Tati and I were meant for each other after only a few days into their first visit, Sofiya had dragged her feet.
She never really knew Tati well, and while she liked her and extended her friendship during her school days, she was worried that Tati might give up on me the way she gave up on college.
As soon as Tati understood what the reason for her dropping out was, she not only volunteered to track down her past bullies, but she insisted on being in charge of the operation.
It looked like it might have reached a dead end until only a week ago, but she had a breakthrough when someone finally gave up all the names of the people involved.
She had only arrived back in LA last night, and I wanted a report before I went downstairs to wait for my bride.
Sofiya poked her head in, swatting away the glasses and the bottle. “Just because you two are running on alcohol fumes, you don’t need to drag Papa down with you.”
“Don’t worry, I’m as sober as a judge,” I assured them.
They laughed at that, because the judge we were most familiar with, who was firmly in the Fokin’s pocket, drank vodka for breakfast with his oatmeal. It was great having my kids around me on such an important day, and I had stopped them from speaking poorly about the twins for refusing to come.
It stung, but they were always wild, and perhaps a little bit angry at my part in making them that way.
Why should they drop everything for something they didn’t believe would last?
Tati promised she’d see to it that they visited us for Christmas, and if not, then she was already planning the trip to Milan.
The fact that she was younger than they were by a couple of years didn’t help their feelings, but she was certainly being the more mature person in the situation.
“Stop smiling so much, Papa,” Sofiya teased. “It’s weird.”
I faked a scowl. “Better? I hope you’re not about to give me news that will wipe the smile off my face for real?”
She shook her head, plopping down in one of the armchairs in the big bedroom that had become groom central.
“The opposite. Consider this part of your wedding present. No one who was part of that crap is ever going to do anything like it ever again. I did just like you said. The ones who seemed redeemable and felt true remorse got off with a warning… okay, a little more than a warning.”
“And the others?” I asked. I trusted Sofiya to be able to recognize when someone was no longer a danger to society, or more importantly, anyone I loved.
“Out of the ones who didn’t think it was a big deal, one was already in jail. He’ll probably be getting into a fight he won’t win pretty soon, according to my contacts on the inside. The other two are on Hector’s schedule.”
“Excellent work,” I said, not feeling a shred of pity for sending my main bone breaker after them.
“Look at little sis trying to show us up,” Luk said, nudging his big brother. “Our wedding gift is us. We’re both staying in LA for a while.”
“Yeah, this seems to be where all the fun is at,” Mikhail said, surprising me since he usually liked to keep busy with his quiet brewery and only jumped into Bratva business when he was really needed.
And we needed all hands on deck, as usual.
Riku still hadn’t been found, but the Yakuza were the least of our worries.
There was always going to be some other organization that wanted what the Fokins had.
Things were popping off in Moscow, too, and if I was going to stay here, that meant the twins would have to eventually return home to hold down the fort.
It was all just part of being in a family. A family that half the world wanted to kill.
Good thing we were better at it than most.
Since Tati had also opted to stay in LA for the foreseeable future to begin learning some highly specific weaving techniques with an expert in town, we’d just moved into a mansion of our own.
“So now you think because I’ve got eight spare bedrooms that you’ll be welcome?” I asked, only half joking. Come on, Tati, and I were going to be newlyweds.
“That’s fine,” Mik said. “We’re staying with Dan. Paisley likes the idea of having some built-in babysitters.”
Sofiya made a crack about thinking Paisley had more sense than that, then she needlessly straightened my tie and wished me luck and happiness.
“Already have both,” I said, following them out of the room to take my place under the flower-laden arch at the end of the aisle.
Everyone waved or winked at me, and my best man, Mat, stood at my side. The familiar music swelled, and my heart skipped a beat as Tati appeared at the end of the long aisle, on the arm of her crotchety father.
He had been the toughest nut to crack, but when push came to shove, he couldn’t face her being unhappy any more than I could. When she said all she wanted was to be married to me, but wouldn’t do it unless he was there to give her away, it was game over.
And he knew as well as I did that we had a knack for making businesses successful. There was a wealth of opportunity waiting for us out here. Thankfully, he was going to be a long-distance partner, the only one who didn’t like the perpetually hot weather.
After he solemnly gave her away, and managed to give me a sincere smile as well as a look of warning, Tati hurried forward, throwing back her veil to a ripple of laughter.
The rest was a happy blur. I barely remembered saying I do, and the kiss was over too soon.
I took care of that when it came time for our first dance, after an interminable amount of toasts and speeches.
As soon as she was in my arms, her mouth was on mine, and I wasn’t sure her feet even touched the ground. At last, she was mine, forever.
With her hands locked around my neck, her breath warm and sweet on my lips, I forgot everyone else and tugged her close. “I love you,” I murmured, then tilted her back for more. “But I’m done with this wedding.”
“Same,” she said, holding on tight as I whisked her off the dance floor.
Cheers and laughter erupted behind us as I kept going, straight upstairs to the room I got ready in. Straight to the big bed. Her giggles had her breathless as I tried to get through all the shiny, wispy layers of fabric, ending up swearing and begging for help.
She grabbed my face and kissed me hard, then broke away to yank up her voluminous skirts. Long, smooth legs clad in thigh-high stockings had me pausing to take in the view. She wore a blue garter around one thigh and the most fantastical, sheer and lace panties.
“A work of art,” I said, spreading her legs and getting in between them.
“They cost three hundred dollars,” she said. “Please don’t rip them. And the garter is Katie’s—something borrowed and blue at the same time. So don’t ruin that, either.”
She was deadly serious, but all I could do was laugh, nuzzling the ridiculously expensive panties, then easing them down her thighs, along with the garter, both of them tossed aside.
“The real work of art,” I said. plunging into her slick heat.
I was already rock hard, and the taste of her drove me wild. We’d been living together since I plucked her off the street and out of danger, but now everything seemed absolute and concrete in a way I didn’t think I was missing out on.
I believed that I was ruined and couldn’t trust again, certainly couldn’t love someone who wasn’t my own flesh and blood. But Tati changed all that in an instant.
Her moans made me drive my tongue deep, then circle her swollen clit, lapping her up as she squirmed beneath my onslaught. Mine. All mine. She squealed and pulled my hair, already begging me to hurry. No, slow down. No, really. Hurry.
The vibration of my laughter against her slippery pussy had her gasping and pulling my hair. “This is what you get for going along with that tradition,” I growled.
“It was one night away,” she said, tugging harder, squeezing her thighs around my shoulders.
“Never again.”
“Never again,” she agreed.