Page 63 of The Bratva's Innocent Bride

“Ready, brother?” Roman asks, raising his eyebrows at me as he comes to my side. Our entire family is here under the pretense of celebrating the opening of the new club, but the real purpose is something far more important.

Fiona thinks I’m nervous because we’re going to admit to everyone that we haven’t really been married this whole time. She thinks we’re going to the courthouse on Monday to sign the real papers and actually make her a Milov this time.

But that’s not the whole truth.

Fiona is far too special for a hasty courthouse wedding.

This is why, today, in front of all our friends and family, I will propose to her, and if she says yes, we’ll have our wedding in this very club. A car and plane are waiting to sweep us away on our honeymoon.

If she says yes.

“Calm down, dude,” Viktor says, rolling his eyes. “You’ve already done this once.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t waiting on a yes last time. Or asking in front of everyone.”

“Isn’t letting yourself be kidnapped like the most hardcore yes there is?” Anya asks, brushing past. She’s been heavily involved in this process, advising me on what she thought Fiona would like for her dress and flowers. The bartenders here have instructions on creating a specialty cocktail for our engagement.

If she says yes.

“She’s going to say yes,” Anton says, joining the conversation out of nowhere. “If she wouldn’t say yes to a proposal, I doubt she would have stayed after being kidnapped twice. She’s been through hell and back for you.”

“I’m aware of that, thank you,” I say, reaching into my pocket and feeling the ring box there. Perhaps this is why all my cousins chose such alternative methods of finding their brides—so they could avoid the nerve-wracking process of asking for her hand.

“If I could have everyone’s attention, please,” I say, moving to the front of the room an hour later. Fiona joins me, thinking I’m just going to explain the situation and announce our courthouse marriage. “About one year ago, I met a woman who would change my life forever,” I glance over at her, smiling as she reaches out and takes my hand.

“We haven’t been entirely truthful with everyone,” I say into the microphone. “This entire time, you all have thought we were married, and that’s because I lied about it. I coerced Fiona into lying about that, and I would like to remedy that now.”

I turn from the microphone, and Fiona gives me a confused look until I get down on one knee and gaze up at her, opening the ring box for her to see what I can promise her if she’ll be mine forever.

“Fiona,” I say, watching a tear slip down her face. “Will you marry me?”

“How nice of you to ask,” she murmurs, which makes my siblings, who are close enough to hear, laugh. “Yes, of course I will.”

I stand and wrap her in my arms, hugging her close.

“I’m glad you said yes,” I breathe, “or this next part would have been very awkward.”

I move back to the microphone, addressing the crowd—my family, cousins, siblings, and friends.

“If you wait for just a short intermission,” I say, “we will be right back with the said wedding.”

“What?” Fiona laughs, her face lighting up with joy as I carry her out of the room. Everyone in the room cheers, and the moment I get her into the back rooms, Anya meets us.

“Come on!” she says, chiding me, “You’re not supposed to see the bride on the wedding day.”

“The rules are very confusing,” Fiona laughs as Anya tugs her away. Viktor, Anton, and Roman come with me into a separate room, where we change into our wedding clothes. Thirty minutes later, when we emerge into the club's main area, it’s been transformed into a wedding venue.

“This is amazing, Boris,” Pen says, approaching me and putting her hand on my arm. “So much fun! I’m not even mad about the fake marriage thing.”

“I’m a little mad,” Kervyn says, “but we’ll have to see if the catering makes up for that.”

I swallow thickly, wishing, suddenly, that we hadn’t asked Anton to oversee the catering. We should have gone for the best, most expensive catering company in the city. Maybe even conducted a nationwide search—

“Cousin,” Kervyn says, putting a hand on my arm. “Take a breath, man, I’m kidding.”

Everyone laughs at my expense before I go back up to the stage to wait for my bride. Anya, Olive, Penelope, and Arina all act as stand-in bridesmaids. They may be missing matching dresses, but they all look gorgeous.

Fiona outshines them all when she appears in her wedding dress. It sparkles in the light, and I almost laugh, thinking about how all her favorite clothes sparkle.

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