Page 147 of Twisted Pact
“With my life.”
He nods, then takes his seat beside Mila’s mother. I barely register the priest’s words. I can’t focus on anything except the woman in front of me. Her hazel eyes are bright with unshed tears. This time, they’re happy ones.
“I love you,” I mouth.
She grins and mouths back, “I know.”
The ceremony passes in a rush. I say the right words at the right times, slide the ring onto her finger, and kiss her when the priest finally gives permission.
The reception takes place at the Andreev estate. Papa Andreev and Mila’s mother transformed the gardens into something out of a fairy tale. White roses and peonies everywhere. Strings of small bulbs overhead. Tables draped in silk.
Mila and I move through the crowd accepting congratulations. Dmitri and Katya. Boris and his wife. Countless heads of other families who almost turned on us at Novikov’s bidding.
“Your sister is here.” Mila nods toward the entrance.
I turn to see Sasha making her way through the crowd, looking just how I remember from when I last saw her at Christmas. Her clothes are expensive but understated. She spots us and waves.
“Alexei!” She throws her arms around me. “Congratulations.”
“You made it.”
“Did you really think I’d miss this?” She pulls back and turns to Mila. “Look at you! You’re glowing.”
Mila laughs and gestures to her belly. “I’m enormous.”
“You’re perfect.” Sasha hugs her carefully. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired. My feet hurt. The baby won’t stop kicking.”
“All worth it though, right?”
“Absolutely.”
We spend the next hour making rounds, talking to family members and business associates, and playing the role of happy newlyweds. It isn’t hard, because wearehappy.
I’m refilling Mila’s water glass when a stranger approaches. He’s tall and well-dressed, with American accent, based on how he greets the bartender.
“Alexei Kozlov?” he asks.
I set down the water and turn to face him. “Who’s asking?”
“Tony Haugh.” He extends his hand. “Moscow Tribune. I appreciate you allowing press coverage of the wedding.”
I take his hand briefly. We invited one reporter because we knew the media hounds would swarm. Better to control the narrative than deal with speculation. Still, something about him puts me on edge.
“You’re the journalist they sent?”
“I am. I cover business and society news.” He hands me a business card. “Though I admit, I’ve been researching your family’s recent transition to more legitimate operations. Fascinating stuff.”
“The Tribune usually sends Nadia.”
“She’s covering another wedding tonight. I volunteered for this assignment.” He glances around the reception. “Your family’s story is compelling. Two powerful organizations merging through marriage. It’s the kind of thing readers love.”
“As long as you stick to the facts.”
“Of course. Though I think you’ll find I’ve uncovered some interesting information about your competitors. Details that might be valuable to your operations.”
Dmitri appears at my side. “Is there a problem?”
