52. Marla
MARLA
The estate looks like something out of a dream.
White flowers cascade from every surface, woven through the railings of the grand staircase and draped across the massive archway leading into the central gathering house.
Candles flicker in tall glass holders lining the walkways, their flames dancing in the late afternoon breeze. The scent of roses and jasmine fills the air, mixing with the rich aroma of food being prepared in the kitchens.
Bratva captains stand in small groups throughout the grounds, their dark suits contrasting sharply against the white and gold decorations.
Security is everywhere but discreet, blending into the background while maintaining constant vigilance. Despite the wealth and power on display, the atmosphere feels strangely intimate. Everyone here sees us as family already.
I stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror in our shared suite, staring at my reflection like I'm looking at a stranger.
The wedding gown is custom-made, altered specifically to accommodate my pregnancy.
Ivory silk flows over my body in soft waves, the fabric gathering beneath my breasts before cascading down to the floor.
The neckline is modest but elegant, and delicate lace sleeves cover my arms. My red hair has been styled in loose curls that fall over my shoulders, and Sharon painstakenly tucked small white flowers into the waves.
I look beautiful. I look like a bride. And I also look a bit shellshocked.
"Stop fidgeting," Sharon says from behind me, adjusting the veil one more time. Her voice is thick with emotion, and when I glance at her reflection in the mirror, I see tears streaming down her face.
"You're crying," I say.
"I'm not crying." She wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing mascara slightly. "I'm just... fuck, Marla. Look at you."
I turn to face her, my own throat tightening. Sharon looks stunning in her bridesmaid dress, a deep burgundy that complements her blonde hair perfectly. But it's the expression on her face that makes my chest ache.
"This isn't how either of us expected life to turn out," she says, laughing through her tears. "You were supposed to write romance novels. I was supposed to serve drinks at a fancy club. And now you're marrying three Russian mafia bosses at the same time."
"I know." My voice comes out shaky. "It's insane."
"It's perfect," Sharon corrects, stepping forward to take my hands. "You're happy. I can see it. You're actually happy, Marla."
The words hit me harder than I expect. She's right. Beneath the nerves and the overwhelming reality of what I'm about to do, there's genuine happiness. The kind I never thought I'd feel.
"I love them," I whisper. "All three of them. Is that crazy?"
"Probably." Sharon grins. "But who gives a shit? They love you too. Anyone with eyes can see that."
A knock on the door interrupts us. Ekaterina enters without waiting for permission, her expression softening when she sees me standing there in the gown.
"Beautiful," she says simply. "My son is a lucky man. All three of them are."
She crosses the room and adjusts my veil with practiced hands, her touch gentle and maternal. When she steps back, her dark eyes are suspiciously bright.
"It's time," she says.
My heart pounds so hard, I worry it's going to jump out of my chest. Sharon squeezes my hand once more before stepping back, and Ekaterina guides me toward the door.
The walk down the grand staircase feels surreal. Music drifts up from below, a blend of traditional Russian melodies and something softer, more modern. My hand grips the railing as I descend, my legs shaking beneath the layers of silk.
When I reach the bottom, I see them. Russ stands to the left, wearing a perfectly tailored black suit with a white shirt and no tie.
His blond hair is styled back, and his light eyes are locked on me with pure love and possession.
He looks younger somehow, less guarded, and when our eyes meet, he smiles.
Nick stands in the center, his black hair falling just past his shoulders, his green eyes serious and focused. His suit is darker than Russ's, almost charcoal, and he wears it with the same control he brings to everything. But he looks at me with pride and... possession, of course.
Alex stands to the right, his brown hair graying at the temples, his lean frame radiating quiet authority. He's wearing a dark gray suit with a black shirt, and the scar along his jawline is barely visible in the candlelight. His eyes never leave mine as I approach.
The ceremony is a blend of Russian traditions and the unconventional reality of what we're doing.
An Orthodox priest stands before us, his robes elaborate and his voice deep as he begins the prayers.
Crowns are held over our heads during parts of the ceremony, the weight of them symbolic even though they never touch our skin.
But when it comes time for vows, we abandon tradition completely.
"I'm not doing this the normal way," Russ says, his voice carrying across the gathered crowd. "Because nothing about this is normal."
A few people laugh quietly, and I see his mother dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.
Russ takes my hand, his grip warm and steady.
"Marla, I didn't plan on falling for you.
I didn't plan on any of this. But you walked into my life and turned everything upside down, and I wouldn't change a damn thing.
I promise to protect you, to make you laugh when you're scared, and to love you for the rest of my life. "
My throat tightens, and I blink rapidly to keep the tears from falling.
Nick steps forward next, taking my other hand.
His voice is quieter but no less serious.
"I've spent most of my life keeping people at a distance.
It's safer that way. But you got past every wall I built, and now I can't imagine my life without you in it.
I promise to keep you safe, to stand beside you no matter what comes, and to love you completely. "
Alex moves closer, his hands cupping my face gently.
His dark eyes search mine, and when he speaks, his voice is rough with emotion.
"You made me believe in something I thought I'd lost years ago.
You made me want more than just survival.
I promise to give you everything I have, to protect you and our family with everything I am, and to love you until my last breath. "
I'm crying now, tears streaming down my face as I look at each of them in turn.
"I promise to trust you," I say, my voice shaking.
"To let you protect me without fighting it every step of the way.
I promise to love all three of you equally, completely, and forever.
You've given me a family when I never thought I'd have one.
You've made me feel safe when I spent years being afraid. I love you. All of you."
The priest finishes the ceremony with prayers and blessings, and when he finally declares us married, the entire room erupts into applause and cheers.
Russ kisses me first, his mouth warm and familiar. Nick follows, his kiss deeper and more possessive. Alex kisses me last, his hands cradling my face.
When I turn to face the crowd, I see Ekaterina openly crying while pretending she isn't. Even some of the older captains look moved.
Nobody looks ashamed or uncertain. The three men stand beside me proudly, possessively, and the weight of years spent feeling temporary and disposable unravels inside me.
I belong here. I belong to them.
The reception afterward is loud, emotional, and chaotic in the best possible way.
The central gathering house feels truly alive as music blares from speakers, vodka flows freely, and people dance with abandon.
Speeches are given, some heartfelt and others teasing, and laughter echoes off the high ceilings.
Nick dances with me, despite his earlier claims that he hates dancing. "You look beautiful," he murmurs against my ear.
"You're not so bad yourself," I say, smiling up at him.
Russ becomes increasingly affectionate as the night goes on and the vodka keeps flowing. He pulls me into his arms at every opportunity, kissing my temple, my cheek, my lips. "My wife," he keeps saying, like he's testing out the word. "My fucking wife."
Alex remains quieter throughout the reception, but his eyes barely leave me all night. When he finally pulls me aside for a private moment, his hand rests protectively over my stomach.
"You okay?" he asks.
"I'm perfect," I say honestly.
Hours later, after the last guests have finally left and the estate has quieted, the four of us end up in the enormous hot tub on the private terrace overlooking the grounds.
Steam rises into the cold night air as I sink into the water between them, exhaustion and relief settling around us for the first time in months.
"I need to tell you something," Alex says quietly.
I turn to look at him, my heart skipping slightly at his tone. "What?"
"About the mayor. And his son."
The mention of Zach makes my stomach tighten, but Alex's expression is calm, almost satisfied.
"The mayor's resignation wasn't random," he continues. "I spent three months systematically dismantling him. I uncovered every betrayal he'd committed against the families he was supposed to be protecting. I leaked evidence to the right people, made sure his corruption became impossible to ignore."
This isn’t something new, and I have the feeling he's building up to what he really wants to say. "And Zach?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
"I manipulated the fight circuit to pull him directly into a trap.
He thought he was building a reputation.
He had no idea every fight was designed to lead him to me.
" Alex's jaw tightens. "The mayor and Zach were behind Sharon's kidnapping.
It was intimidation, not ransom. They wanted to scare you into running. "
"So they're..." I can't finish the sentence.
"Gone," Alex says simply. "Both of them. The danger hanging over our lives is finally over."
The words settle over me like a blanket, warm and heavy. It's over. It's actually over.
"I love you," Russ says suddenly, breaking the silence. He's looking at me with an expression so open and vulnerable it makes my chest ache. "I'm not good at this shit, but I need you to know. I love you, Marla."
"I love you too," I whisper.
Nick shifts closer, his hand finding mine beneath the water. "I love you," he says quietly, but the words carry no less weight. "I didn't think I was capable of feeling this way about anyone. But I do. I love you."
"I love you," I tell him, my voice breaking.
Alex cups my face in both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears on my cheeks. He stares at me like he's memorizing every detail, every feature. "I love you," he says, his voice rough. "More than I thought possible."
"I love you too," I say. "All of you. So much."
We stay in the hot tub until the water starts to cool, wrapped around each other, talking quietly about nothing and everything. Eventually, we move inside to the massive bedroom, our bodies exhausted but our hearts full.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I watch as snow begins to fall softly over the estate, blanketing everything in white.
For the first time in my life, I feel completely safe.
And completely loved. I know our child won't have the uncertain and unloved life that I had, and I couldn't ask for anything more.
I close my eyes and fall asleep with a smile on my face, wrapped in the lovely cocoon of my husbands.