Chapter 20 – Cassandra
“The wedding will be in a week,” Rafael said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “The old Kamarov church on the hill. All Bratva traditions.”
I stood in his office, my hands clasped in front of me, my mind spinning.
A week.
Seven days to prepare for a marriage I’d never asked for, to a man I was falling for but didn’t trust me, in a church that belonged to a family I’d spent two years trying to destroy.
The irony was so sharp it cut.
“Do you understand?” Rafael asked, his dark eyes studying my face.
I nodded. “Yes.”
What else could I say? No? That I wasn’t ready? That I was terrified of standing in front of Drew and promising forever when I knew my lies were going to catch up with me?
Rafael would put a bullet in my head before I finished the sentence.
“Good.” He leaned back in his chair, his expression softening just slightly. “This is for the best, Cassandra. For you. For the baby. For all of us.”
I wanted to believe him.
Wanted to believe that this wasn’t just about control, about legitimizing Bratva blood, about making sure I stayed in line.
But I knew better.
“Dismissed,” Rafael said, waving a hand.
I walked out of his office on shaky legs, my mind reeling.
I was getting married.
In a week.
To Drew Kamarov.
And somehow, despite everything—despite the lies, the betrayal, the secrets eating me alive—I’d said yes.
***
Hailey and Barbara were over the moon.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” Barbara squealed when I told them, practically jumping out of her seat in the upscale restaurant where we’d met for lunch.
Hailey grinned like a devil, her hazel eyes sparkling. “I knew it. I knew something was going on with you two.”
“It’s not—” I started, but Barbara cut me off.
“Not what? Not romantic? Not perfect? Girl, you’re marrying a six-foot-three Russian who looks like he walked out of a damn action movie. This is a fairy tale.”
I forced a smile, my chest tight. “It’s complicated.”
“Everything’s complicated,” Hailey said, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “But you love him, don’t you?”
I opened my mouth to deny it, to throw up the walls I’d built so carefully around my heart.
But the truth slipped out before I could stop it.
“I think I do.”
Hailey’s grin widened. Barbara let out another squeal.
And for a moment—just a moment—I let myself feel it. The joy. The hope. The possibility that maybe, just maybe, this could work.
Then reality crashed back in, cold and unforgiving.
I was marrying Drew while hiding the fact that I’d betrayed him, his family, everything he cared about.
And when he found out, the fairy tale would burn.
“Okay,” Barbara said, pulling out her phone and opening a notes app. “We have one week. One week to plan the most badass Bratva wedding Seattle—sorry, Chicago—has ever seen.”
“Dress, shoes, lingerie,” Hailey listed, ticking items off on her fingers. “Vows. Something borrowed. Something blue. Something dangerously hot.”
I laughed despite myself. “I’m pregnant, Hails. I can’t do dangerously hot.”
“The hell you can’t.” She leaned forward, her eyes fierce. “You’re glowing, Cass. You’re gorgeous. And you’re about to marry a man who looks at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. We’re making you look like a goddamn queen.”
Tears pricked at my eyes, and I blinked them back. “Okay.”
Barbara clapped her hands. “Shopping. Tomorrow. No arguments.”
***
The boutique was upscale and chic, all soft lighting and plush carpets. The scent of new fabric and warm leather filled the air, expensive and intoxicating.
Barbara flung sequin gowns over her arms like she was preparing for war, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “This one. And this one. Oh, and definitely this one.”
Hailey rolled her eyes but smiled. “Barb, she’s pregnant. She needs something that’s soft but still sexy. Elegant but not suffocating.”
“I can do both,” Barbara protested.
“No, you can’t. You dress like you’re going to a gala every day of your life.”
“And you dress like you’re ready to stab someone.”
“Girls,” I interrupted, laughing. “Can we focus?”
They both turned to me, grinning.
“Right,” Hailey said. “Let’s find you something that makes Drew forget how to breathe.”
We spent hours trying on dresses. Barbara’s picks were all glitter and drama—beautiful, but not me. Hailey’s choices were sleek and dangerous, hugging every curve in ways that made me feel powerful and vulnerable all at once.
But then I found it.
The dress.
It was simple. Elegant. A soft ivory silk that draped over my body like water, with delicate lace sleeves that fell just past my elbows. The neckline was modest but hinted at cleavage, and the skirt flowed to the floor in gentle waves.
It was understated. Classic. And when I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw someone I almost didn’t recognize.
A bride.
“That’s the one,” Hailey said softly, her voice thick with emotion.
Barbara nodded, tears already streaming down her face. “You look perfect, Cass.”
I stared at my reflection, my hand resting on the slight swell of my belly, and for the first time in weeks, I let myself believe that maybe—just maybe—I deserved this.
***
The day of the wedding came faster than I thought possible.
One moment, I was standing in the boutique, staring at myself in a dress I never thought I’d wear. The next, I was standing at the back of the old Kamarov church, clutching a bouquet of white roses, my heart hammering so hard I thought it might break through my ribs.
The church was small but beautiful. Stone walls, stained glass windows casting colored light across the pews, candles flickering in the dim light. It smelled like incense and old wood, sacred and ancient.
Bratva traditions ran deep here. This wasn’t just a wedding. It was a binding. A vow that couldn’t be broken without blood.
Hailey and Barbara stood beside me, both dressed in deep burgundy, their eyes shining with tears.
“You ready?” Hailey whispered.
I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure.
The doors opened, and the low hum of Russian hymns filled the air.
I walked down the aisle in silence, my steps slow and measured, my heart thudding in my chest.
And then I saw him.
Drew.
He was standing at the front, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, his hands clasped in front of him, his gray eyes locked on me.
For a moment, the world stopped.
There was no one else. No Bratva. No lies. No secrets.
Just him.
And me.
And the life growing between us.
When I reached him, he held out his hand, and I took it. His grip was warm, steady, grounding.
The priest began speaking in Russian, his voice deep and reverent. I didn’t understand all the words, but I didn’t need to. I could feel their weight, their gravity.
Then came the vows.
In Russian first. Then English.
Drew’s voice was low, steady, absolute. “I vow to protect you. To stand beside you. To honor the life we’ve created and the family we’re building. You are mine, and I am yours. In blood, in name, in everything.”
My throat tightened. Tears blurred my vision.
When it was my turn, my voice shook, but I forced the words out.
“I vow to stand with you. To protect what we’ve built. To give our child a life we never had.” I swallowed hard, my eyes locked on his. “You’ve seen me at my worst and stayed. And I…I love you for that.”
It was the first time I’d said it out loud.
The first time I’d admitted it to him, to myself, to anyone.
Drew’s jaw tightened. His eyes softened, just slightly, and he squeezed my hand.
“I love you too, kitten,” he said quietly, so only I could hear.
The priest said something else in Russian, then nodded.
Drew leaned in and kissed me.
Soft. Gentle. A promise sealed with our lips.
When he pulled back, I was crying. And I didn’t care.
***
The reception was a blur of faces and voices.
I met Drew’s parents for the first time—his mother, elegant and warm, with Drew’s gray eyes and a smile that felt genuine. His father, broad-shouldered and intimidating, who shook my hand and told me in accented English, “You take care of my son. And he takes care of you. This is how it works.”
I nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.
Damir clapped Drew on the shoulder, grinning. “Welcome to the family, Cassandra.”
Kirill raised a glass, his blue eyes sharp but kind. “To the bride and groom. May your life together be less chaotic than the wedding planning.”
Everyone laughed.
I smiled, played the part, accepted congratulations and well-wishes from people I barely knew.
But underneath it all, the guilt was eating me alive.
Because I’d just promised forever to a man I was still lying to.
And he had no idea.
***
Later that night, back at Drew’s apartment—our apartment now—I stood in the bedroom, still in my wedding dress, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
Mrs. Kamarov.
Cassandra Kamarov.
The name felt foreign. Heavy. Like it belonged to someone else.
Drew walked in, loosening his tie, his suit jacket already discarded. When he saw me, he stopped.
“You okay?” he asked softly.
I nodded, even though I wasn’t.
He crossed the room, stopped behind me, and met my eyes in the mirror. “Talk to me, Cass.”
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“You’re not.” His hands rested on my shoulders, warm and steady. “You’ve been quiet all night.”
I swallowed hard. “It’s just…a lot.”
“I know.” He turned me around gently, his hands framing my face. “But we’re in this together now. You and me.”
Tears threatened to spill over. “Drew—”
“I want to trust you,” he said, his voice dropping. “I need to trust you. But I can’t if you keep secrets from me.”
My breath hitched.
He knew. Or at least, he suspected.
“I know you’re hiding something,” he continued, his gray eyes searching mine. “And I need you to tell me. Not because I want to punish you. But because I can’t protect you if I don’t know what I’m protecting you from.”
The words stuck in my throat, tangled up with fear and shame and guilt.
“I need a few days,” I whispered. “To gather the courage to tell you everything.”