Page 14 of Paid for By the Bratva

"Nice to meet you both," I say politely, still trying to process the presence of these two men.

There’s no backing out now. The government’s been involved.

"So, we're getting married right now?" I ask, trying to hide the slight tremble in my voice.

"Indeed," Dima confirms, his eyes locking with mine. "I hope you're ready."

I nod.What other choice do we have?

***

We stand before the priest, and I realize the weight of this moment. Since childhood, I believed one is meant to marry for life, and yet here I am, taking the biggest risk to save my hide.

I look up at Dima, wondering if he’s this scared. But he looks right ahead as Father Aleksei begins the ceremony. There isn’t a flicker of doubt on his face, not a sliver of regret.

I find myself wondering what it takes to make a man this principled, courageous, and bold. In this moment, I realize one truth about my soon-to-be husband: Dima Orlov is a man of his word. Once he says he’ll do something, he’ll make it happen.

Even something as insane as marrying a girl he hardly knows.

Father Aleksei’s words fill the sacred space with reverence, and I shift my focus to him. As the priest leads us through the vows, I steal a sideways glance at Dima, whose gaze is fixed on me, a silent promise in his gaze.

A strange feeling, overwhelming and all-consuming, overtakes me. I always dreamt that someday, I’d want my husband to look at me like Dima’s looking at me now.

And this observation is disorienting.It can’t be. Dima would never be interested in a girl like me, and maybe I’m in such deep denial over this huge step we’ve gone ahead and taken that I’m starting to see things I want to believe instead of what might be reality.

Suddenly, I feel dizzy, and the blood rushes to my head. I almost swoon. His hand tightens around mine, grounding me in this whirlwind of a moment. My vision clears, and the first thing I see is Dima’s gray eyes etched with concern. He squeezes my hand and raises an eyebrow in inquiry.

“I’m fine,” I mouth, turning my attention back to the priest. I struggle to keep my composure, to focus on the gravity of the commitment I'm making with this man beside me. Dima's eyes never waver from mine.

When it comes time to exchange rings, Father Aleksei shoots Dima a knowing look as if he can sense the lies behind our vows. Dima offers a sheepish smile in return before the government witness brings out a simple gold band.

My heart skips a beat. Despite all of this being such a gunshotthing, Dima somehow managed to arrange a band. The thoughtfulness isn’t lost on me.

With a gentle hand, he puts the ring through my finger. Wherever his fingers graze, a fire remains. I try so hard to keep my fingers steady, but they tremble like a leaf on a thin branch.

“It’s a perfect fit,” Dima whispers incredulously, his lips breaking out into a smile, and a jolt of awareness courses through me. The metal feels cold against my skin, heavy, like the burden of this sham of a marriage we’ve entered into.

Father Aleksei’s voice brings me back to the present moment, and I realize he’s asking me to repeat after him. My thoughts in disarray, I stumble over the words, my voice coming out in a shaky whisper.

Dima, on the other hand, sounds certain and sure. Unwavering with each word.

“And now,” Father Aleksei says. “You may kiss the bride.”

Dima's gaze meets mine, a silent question lingering in his eyes. I part my lips, my heart thundering in my heart. I never thought the priest would ask this of us, and the nervousness that roars through me almost drowns out the voice of desire at the back of my head.Almost.

A faint whisper beckons through my mind. Kiss me already.

I can feel the tension crackling between us in the charged air of the church. My heart races so hard as I notice lines on hisface I hadn’t before. He’s so close now that I smell the delicious mahogany and citrus on him. As he leans in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to mine, I can't help but hold my breath in anticipation. His hand cradles my cheek gently, his touch surprisingly soft for a man with such rough edges. I close my eyes.

And then, his lips graze the bottom of my cheek ever so gently, and far too soon, he pulls away.

My eyes flutter open, disappointment crushing me. I see his face, a small smirk on the corner of his lip. I worry he is reading my mind and take a hesitant step back.

“Well, Mrs. Orlov. Here’s to a night we can’t take back,” he gives me a roguish wink.

***

I sit in the car, staring out of the window. Dima is dropping me back home, and I haven’t found the right words to say to him.

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