Page 77 of Forced to Marry the Bratva

I adjust my dress one final time and take Gael’s arm as we step out into the golden glow of the setting sun. The vineyard in Temecula that Ivan and Boris just bought as a family retreat for all of us to enjoy in the years to come stretches before us, vines heavy with ripe grapes. Temecula is beautiful, and I can imagine generations of Zolotovs enjoying themselves here.

My eyes gaze at the flower-wreathed altar where Damien waits, devastatingly handsome in his black suit. His ice-blue eyes lock on mine, stirring that familiar heat low in my belly.

I can’t believe he’s mine.

The music swells, a lone violin singing a haunting melody. Gael walks me down the grassy aisle between rows of our loved ones. Candles flicker, perfuming the air with vanilla and sandalwood.

Damien’s strong hands engulf mine. His thumb caresses my knuckles as the officiant speaks of everlasting love.

“I choose you, today and every day, my fierce wife, the mother of my child,” Damien recites, his voice husky with emotion. “To stand together against all storms, to nurture our family and watch it grow.”

My voice trembles as I echo my vows. “You are my safe harbor in the most violent of storms. With you, I have found home, joy, and soon a child to share our love.”

We slide new rings onto each other’s fingers. The officiant pronounces us wed, again. Damien’s lips find mine in a searing kiss, and it takes my breath away, just like the very first time he kissed me on this altar.

***

Gael is the first to embrace me, his eyes shining. “I’m so happy for you, Sister,” he whispers.

Anoushka flings her arms around both of us. “Welcome to the family, officially!” She winks at me.

Boris clasps Damien in a bear hug, thumping his back. “Take good care of our girl, Brother.”

“We’re watching you,” Sergei follows, and his wife Amelia rolls her eyes at all their ‘threats’. I giggle at her expression and notice Mikhail laugh, too.

We make our way to the reception under strings of twinkling lights. A jazz band plays on the vineyard patio. Waiters circulate with champagne and canapes.

Laughter and joyous conversation flow. Anoushka regales us with tales of her travels. Gael charms all the ladies. Lev attempts to teach some risqué dance moves until Anoushka smacks his shoulder.

Damien keeps me close, one hand resting protectively on my belly. His thumb strokes my hipbone as we speak with our guests. I lean into him, filled with contentment.

The sun sinks below the horizon in a blaze of coral and gold. Lanterns flicker to life as darkness falls.

Damien steals me away to the edge of the patio. We stand hand in hand, watching the moon rise over the vineyard. This is the beginning of our new life together.

***

As the moonlight washes over us, I catch whispers rippling through the guests. My father’s name, Gerald, uttered in hushed, gleeful tones.

“What’s happened?” I ask Damien. Our siblings lean closer, waiting to learn more or chime in as needed.

His jaw clenches. “It seems your father has finally faced the consequences of his actions.”

We drift closer to the gossiping cluster. I pick up snatches of conversation. “Bankrupt!” “...Lost everything...” “...Serves him right...” “He has such lovely children.”

I meet Damien’s gaze, stunned. After all the pain he caused, Father’s empire has crumbled to dust.

“I know you took away his assets,” I mutter. “But he still had investments overseas, didn’t he?”

“He lost it all, Sister,” Gael shakes his head. “Good thing Damien saved what he could for us.”

“Good riddance,” Damien mutters. His arm tightens around me, and he addresses Gael. “You have always been the right leader for the Russos. You and my wife, of course.”

I smile at his acknowledgment. “I’m a Zolotov now,” I remind him, raising my ring to his face.

“Damn right you are,” Lev high-fives me before throwing his arm across Damien’s shoulder. “Karma’s a bitch, isn’t she, Brother?”

Anoushka chimes in, shaking his head. “I won’t pretend I’m sad about it. Not after what he did to our family.”

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