42. Bronwyn

42

brONWYN

The white vintage Rolls-Royce stopped with a soft crunch of gravel and the chauffeur jumped out and opened my door. But I just sat there, focusing on the back of the seat in front of me, trying not to cry.

Jen leaned in close. “We can just get out of here,” she whispered urgently. “Please don’t do this if it’s not what you want.” Baba looked worried, too.

I shook my head. However I felt, I still had to marry him: Radimir and his family would find me if I ran. But the irony was, I did want this. I just wanted it to be real. I wanted him to love me, too.

I climbed out of the car, tasting the cold, crisp air. The snow had stopped, and everything was silent and perfect. The mansion looked amazing, with fresh snow dusting its roof and clinging to the window ledges. Golden light spilled from the windows and lit up the arrangements of deep red roses that led up the path to the door. A string quartet in ball gowns started playing.

“Let’s do this,” I said shakily.

Jen adjusted my veil. Luna and Sadie joined us, the three of them looking amazing in their long green dresses. Baba moved in next to me: she still needed a stick to walk, but she was getting stronger every day. A photographer started snapping pictures. I was pretty sure he couldn’t see the tears in my eyes through the veil.

We walked slowly up the path to the house. For once, my legs barely hurt at all. My plan of going on the immunosuppressants had worked: if things were different, I’d be able to enjoy my big day.

We passed through the entrance hall, my heels echoing on the tiled floor, the scent of fresh flowers surrounding us. Ahead of us, two ushers pulled open a set of double doors and I caught my breath as we stepped into the huge room. Hundreds of people all turned to look at me. But my eyes were on the aisle, following it to…

Radimir, resplendent in his dove gray suit, had been saying something to Gennadiy, his best man. As he heard the doors open, he turned to face me. My world seemed to narrow down to just him. As his eyes met mine, his chest lifted and filled and his eyes, normally so cold, gleamed with... joy?

I swallowed and nearly stumbled, my heart suddenly hammering. No. Don’t let yourself hope. But I couldn’t help it.

I tried to remember how to put one foot in front of the other. In the cream and silver gown, with my hair tamed into shining copper waves and a silver tiara sparkling, I did feel like a princess, just like how I’d imagined it as a kid. But now I wasn’t sure what I was walking towards.

I arrived beside him. I could feel that powerful, magnetic presence pulsing into me: it was impossible to not look up at him. But I was terrified of what I’d see. What if I’d imagined it?

As the officiant greeted us and started to speak, I slowly turned my head and looked up at Radimir, barely daring to breathe...and saw him gazing down at me, his jaw set, raw determination in his eyes. What does that mean?! T he officiant’s words faded out as we stared at each other. And then we reached the vows.

Gennadiy passed Radimir a neatly printed card to read. Jen stepped forward and gave me mine.

Radimir glanced down at the card in his hand...then crushed it in his fist and let it fall. I jerked like someone had touched me with a live wire. What the fuck is this?

Radimir looked out across the sea of faces. The rich and the powerful. The other mafia families.

And then he turned away from them and focused only on me. He took my hands, his fingers gloriously warm. “Bronwyn,” he began. I’d never get tired of how his accent carved my name. “Some things...aren’t easy to say, at least not for me. But I never meant you to suffer because I wasn’t brave enough to say the words. And I’m sorry.” The crowd murmured but he ignored them. I stood there staring up at him, beyond shocked. Was this him, was this really Radimir saying these things?

His voice was warm and even though he spoke haltingly, his tone was certain . This was from the heart. “So now I want—I need you to know…” —he drew my hands towards him and squeezed my fingers. “I love you. I’ll never stop loving you.”

I drew in a huge, trembling breath, my whole body filling up with silvery excitement. Tears sprang to my eyes, but they were happy tears. I wasn’t capable of speech, and just gave a kind of sob, squeezing his hands. And then I saw the fear in his eyes, and oh God he doesn’t know, “I love you too!” I blurted, grabbing his hands and pressing them into a ball. Radimir’s face, always so controlled, broke into a huge, dumb grin. Off to my left, I heard Baba sob in delight and Jen gave an adoring Oh!

We turned to the officiant, who was grinning at us. “Do you have the rings?” he asked Gennadiy.

Gennadiy handed the rings to Radimir. Radimir went to put the ring on my finger, but my hand was shaking so much, he had to hold it firm. “Hold still,” he told me, mock-gruffly, and people laughed, I laughed, even he was smiling and he never smiled. I was drunk on happiness, bursting with it, and then oh God, the ring was sliding up my finger and nestling against my engagement ring and I was his, forever.

Then it was my turn to take the much bigger ring and slide it onto his finger. And he’s mine. Forever. Without words, we touched our rings together and then knitted our fingers.

“By the power vested in me by the state of Illinois, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride,” said the officiant.

Radimir flipped my veil back over my head, leaned down and kissed me. Everyone was cheering and applauding, and it felt like I was flying. All the excitement and happiness I’d always thought would be there on my wedding day, everything that had been missing, was suddenly filling me up, from toes to the top of my head, and I wanted to whoop. I settled for tangling my hands in Radimir’s hair and pulling him down into the kiss, and it felt like we were spinning together, right up to the ceiling.

When we finally broke the kiss, I stared up at him, panting in disbelief. He loves me. And then I felt the weight of the ring on my hand. He’s my husband.

The photographer took us outside for photographs, working quickly because it was freezing. But cuddled up to Radimir’s side, I didn’t feel the cold at all. There were speeches: first one from Gennadiy, short but heartfelt, about his brother. Then a much longer, meandering but very funny speech from Mikhail, who seemed to be made for moments like this, with his easy-going nature and his infectious laugh. I couldn’t help noticing, though, that his stories were all drawn from Radimir’s childhood, with nothing past his teenage years. What happened to him? To Gennadiy and Valentin, to all of them?

The dinner passed in a blur. I just remember glancing at Radimir sitting next to me again and again, thinking is this real? He was smiling and slapping people on the back: he was happy!

Everyone seemed to be having a good time: Mikhail had brought his dogs and was feeding them scraps under the table, Luna, Sadie and Jen were getting a lot of interest from the single men and there were even a couple of kids running around between the tables, presumably the children of some of the Russian guests Radimir had invited because none of my friends had kids yet. That got me thinking: did I want a family with Radimir, someday? Three weeks ago, I would have been horrified by the idea, but now… I shook my head. Later. I just wanted to enjoy today.

We cut the cake, a five-tier creation cloaked in white icing and decorated with winter berries and sugar roses, their petals dusted with icing sugar snow. Then more drinks and a lot of Russian people shaking our hands and wishing us well. I was glad I’d started learning Russian: I could only understand maybe one word in three, but…baby steps.

Before I knew what was happening, the tables had been cleared and the band was starting up. God, it’s going so fast! The lights dimmed and everyone formed a circle with Radimir and me in the center.

“What is this?” asked Radimir, confused.

“The first dance!” I told him excitedly. “It’s traditional.”

He looked around suspiciously. “I don’t dance .”

I grabbed his hand and towed him into the middle of the dance floor. “Just one dance, I promise.”

He put his hands on my waist and tugged me close. My breasts pushed against his chest and I felt his cock harden against my thigh. He growled, pinned me firmly in position and whispered in my ear. “One dance. Because any more than that, feeling you against me like this, and I’m going to be dragging you into the nearest storeroom.”

I felt my face light up red but the words, said in that accent, spiraled straight down to my groin and made me crush my thighs together. He’d been holding back, all these weeks, until he knew I wanted him. I could feel the need in him: in his hand, gripping my waist, in the way his eyes kept going to my lips, and in the press of that thick, hot cock. It felt like he was one second away from just ripping my wedding gown off in front of everyone and throwing me over one of the tables. I went weak inside and pressed myself closer to him, reveling in the feel of his body as we slowly spun around the dance floor. I was giggly and heady: I glimpsed Jen smiling at us as we whirled past and I felt my own big, stupid grin on my face. I couldn’t remember the last time I was so happy.

There was a scream, down at the end of the room. Radimir and I stumbled to a stop and looked in that direction but for a moment we couldn’t see anything through the crowd of people. Then another scream, the crowd split apart and?—

Spartak Nazarov, his lips twisting in hatred as he saw us. And standing in front of him, three men with machine guns.

I gave a strangled cry of terror as they opened fire.