“I’m Vera.”

“So nice to meet you. You’ll get to know everyone soon. We have a large family, and now that some of us are having children, it’s only getting bigger,” she says with a little laugh. “My marriage to Aleksandr was also arranged. I know that our circumstances are very different, but I wanted to let you know that I know what it’s like to be in this position. And I know Nikko well. He’ll take good care of you.”

I nod. While I appreciate the sentiment, I don’t need her to tell me that.

“I’m here so I can offer to help get ready for the wedding, if that’s okay with you? I’m good at hair and makeup and things like that.”

I nod. “Yes, please. I would love that. I’m not a super fancy person. I just want something simple? I don’t even know if we have time. . .”

She waves her hand in the air. “We have connections. We’re friends with the Rossi family, and their sisters own a boutique. We can get you anything you want, and there’s plenty of time. I mean, you definitely have more time than I did.”

I remember Nikko talking about the women in his family. I think a lot of what he told me actually was based on his family.

“Wait, I heard about you guys. Aria is the cyber hacker, his sister is a nurse, and that means that you must be. . . like really skilled with a gun?”

She grins. “That’s me.”

“Wow,” I breathe. “And you just so happen to also know about makeup and look like you just stepped out of a magazine?”

“Okay, now! I love you, and we just met,” she says. “Now let’s take a look at this catalog I brought and pick out a nice expensive dress!”

We’re all laughing now. There’s another knock at the door, and Polina enters. She’s tall and willowy with beautiful blonde hair that’s almost white, and bright blue eyes that shine like stars in the night sky. It’s interesting to me that the Romanovs don’t really look like each other, but they’re a tight group. I can tell. I’m curious to see what Nikko is like with them.

“Polina, I have a question for you,” I say, biting my lip.

“Yes?” she says, smiling. “Oh, is that a bridal catalog? My favorite!” She gets excited like a little kid when she picks up the glossy pages.

“Was there a time when you were little and you climbed a tree and Nikko found you?”

“Oh my God, I can’t believe he told you that story,” she exclaims. “Though his reaction to that did solidify him as my favorite brother. Did he tell you about me?”

I smile. “Not that much. But that was a funny story.”

We flip through the bridal magazine, and I select the simplest yet most beautiful gown. It’s sleeveless and made of lace but still modest. I don’t want something overly sexy. The last time I wore something like that, things ended disastrously.

I chose a simple veil, as I suspect I’ll need it for the Russian Orthodox traditions that include wearing a gold crown at one point.

After we finalize wedding details, we go downstairs and join the rest of the family. I look around and there’s still no Nikko. My heart sinks.

“Your home is beautiful,” my mother says to Ekaterina. Like my mother, Ekaterina Romanov has silver hair and holds herself regally, like a queen, with laugh lines around her eyes and a warm, beautiful smile. She hugs me warmly and says in my ear, “I’m so sorry about the circumstances that brought you here, but I couldn’t be more thrilled to have another daughter. Welcome, Vera. I’ve heard so much about you, and I can’t wait to learn more.” She kisses both my cheeks, and I blink back tears. It feels like my emotions have been on edge for the past forty-eight hours, and I can hardly contain myself. Everything feels magnified by a thousand.

“Thank you,” I tell her. “While I wouldn’t have chosen this, I’m going to make the most of it. And I have to say, your son took very, very good care of me—even if he was pretending to be someone else.”

“I would expect nothing less from him,” she says. “He is loyal to the absolute core.” Then, with a twinkle in her eye, she adds, “Speaking of my son, I hear he’s about to arrive. My sons have decided to enact some of our old Russian traditions for old times’ sake. This is the first time in our family, you see, that a Russian is marrying another Russian.”

Oh, that’s right. Aria is American, and Harper is Italian-American, from what I’ve heard. This is the first time we have two Russian families, which means we have to pull out all the Russian tradition stops in superstition. “Now, maybe some brief introductions?” I look around at all of the people. I am so overwhelmed, but I try to remember what Harper said.

“Mom, we don’t have time,” Polina says. “Nikko’s at the door and we’re about to demand his ransom. He’s locked out.”

My mother squeezes my hand and smiles. “Oh God, that brings back so many fun memories,” she says.

He’s here.

Right outside the door.

My heart beats faster. I swallow the lump in my throat and hold my head high.

Russian tradition says that the groom has to pay a ransom, but in many cases, the ransom is completely different from what you’d expect. Something other than money or payment in order to gain access to his wife. And this all takes place before the wedding.