Chapter 53 Lena
LENA
The June afternoon is so perfect, it feels like someone ordered it from a catalog.
White roses climb every trellis in the estate gardens, their petals catching sunlight like they're made of silk.
The string quartet plays something classical and beautiful that I don't know the name of, but it makes my chest feel tight in the best way.
I stand at the edge of the aisle with my father, his hand trembling slightly on my arm.
"You look beautiful, sweetheart," he says, his voice thick.
"Don't make me cry before I even get down there." I squeeze his hand. "Mom will kill us both."
He laughs, and some of the tension eases from his shoulders. He's gained weight since moving into the estate, a healthy color returning to his face. Mom fusses over him constantly, and he pretends to be annoyed, but I catch him smiling when she's not looking.
The music shifts, and everyone stands.
My heart does this stupid fluttering thing when I see Aleksandr at the end of the aisle. He's in a black suit, his dark hair swept back, and those gold eyes locked on me like I'm the only person in the world. The intensity of his gaze sends heat pooling low in my belly even as it warms my heart.
God, I'm going to marry this man.
This beautiful, dangerous, complicated man who once forgot his own name but never forgot how to make me feel like I'm everything.
Danil stands beside him as best man, grinning so broadly, I can see it from here. On my side, Ronnie shifts uncomfortably in his tuxedo, looking embarrassed but proud.
My father walks me down the aisle, and I try to focus on not tripping over my dress. Mom helped me choose it. Elegant and simple, she'd said, because anything too elaborate would overwhelm my frame. The fabric whispers against my legs with each step.
In the front row, Mom holds Nikolai, our three-month-old son. He has Aleksandr's gold eyes and my blonde hair, and right now, he's gnawing on his fist, drool everywhere. Mary catches me looking and grins, bouncing him gently.
My heart swells so much, it feels like it might crack my ribs.
When we reach the end of the aisle, my father kisses my cheek and places my hand in Aleksandr's. His palm is warm, calloused, steady.
"Hi," I whisper.
"Hi, my love." His thumb strokes over my knuckles. "You're stunning."
"You're hot."
He chuckles and gives me a look that promises I'll be seeing a lot more of his hotness later tonight.
The officiant starts talking, but I barely hear him. I'm too busy memorizing the moment. The way I feel, how Aleksandr looks, the summer air… everything.
When it's time for vows, Aleksandr's voice is steady and sure. "I promise to love you, protect you, and never take a single day with you for granted. You saved my life in that cabin, Lena. But more than that, you saved me from myself."
My throat gets tight. "I promise to love all of you. The Pakhan and the man from the cabin. The parts you show the world and the parts you only show me. You're mine, Aleksandr, and I'm never letting you go."
"I'm counting on it," he murmurs, low enough that only I hear.
When the officiant pronounces us married, Aleksandr pulls me in and kisses me like we're the only two people here. It's possessive and tender and makes my toes curl in my shoes. Someone whoops. Probably Danil.
The reception is a blur of champagne and laughter and people I barely know congratulating us.
John Davis shows up looking uncomfortable in a suit, but he shakes Aleksandr's hand and tells me I look lovely.
He's become an unlikely friend over the past months, consulting on security matters and occasionally joining us for dinner.
"Never thought I'd be at a Mob wedding," he mutters, accepting a glass of champagne.
"Never thought I'd be in one," I reply.
Halfway through dinner, Danil approaches our table with a look on his face that makes my stomach drop. He leans down between us, his voice low.
"Got a wedding present for you both."
Aleksandr's hand tightens on his fork. "What kind of present?"
"The kind that ties up loose ends." Danil's grin is sharp. "We found Katya."
My breath catches. We've been looking for her for months. She disappeared like smoke, and part of me wondered if we'd ever get closure.
"And?" Aleksandr's voice is dangerously soft.
"She pissed off a lot of people, apparently. By the time we tracked her down, someone else had already handled it. Execution style. Single shot to the head."
I should feel something. Relief, maybe. Or vindication. Instead, I just feel tired. "Good."
Aleksandr looks at me, searching my face. "You're sure?"
"I'm sure." I lean into him. "She made her choices. Now we get to make ours."
Danil claps Aleksandr on the shoulder. "Congratulations, Boss. You deserve this."
After he walks away, Aleksandr pulls me onto the dance floor. The quartet plays something slow and romantic, and he wraps his arms around me like he's afraid I'll disappear.
"I love you," he whispers against my ear, his breath warm. "You saved me in more ways than pulling me from the snow. Every day with you is a gift I don't deserve, but I'll never take it for granted." He nips my earlobe. "But I'll deny it if you tell anyone I said that."
My eyes sting, but I smile so big that my mouth aches. "I love you too."
He kisses me then, soft and sweet, and I taste champagne and promises on his lips.
Hours later, after the last guests have departed and the estate has finally gone quiet, we stand on the balcony of our bedroom.
Nikolai is asleep in the nursery down the hall, probably dreaming baby dreams about milk and toys.
My parents are settled in their suite on the third floor, safe and cared for.
Aleksandr wraps his arms around me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder.
"What are you thinking about?" he asks.
I lean back against his chest, solid and warm. "The journey that brought us here. The blizzard. The cabin. How terrified I was."
His gold eyes gleam in the moonlight. "Better now?"
"Complete," I correct.
He cups my face in his hands, thumbs stroking my cheekbones. "I'm going to spend the rest of my life making you happy."
"You already do."
I kiss him, pouring everything into it. Gratitude and love and desire and hope. When we break apart, we're both breathing hard.
"Come inside with me," he murmurs, his voice rough with want.
I take his hand, and together we step through the doorway. Behind us, the past fades into shadow. Ahead, our future waits, bright and uncertain and ours.
The door closes softly behind us, and I think about how sometimes the best beginnings come from the most unexpected places.
Like a cabin in the woods during a blizzard.
Like a man with no memory and a woman with too much heart.
Like love that shouldn't work but does anyway.
Aleksandr lifts me into his arms, and I laugh against his neck as he carries me toward the bed. Outside, the estate sleeps. Inside, we're just beginning.