Chapter 69

Chapter 68

Sophia

"YOU LOOK like a princess, Sophia." Little Yulia's voice is filled with awe, her eyes wide as saucers as she stares at me in my wedding gown.

I look back at the mirror, my reflection transformed by the elegance of the gown and the artful touch of make-up. For a fleeting moment, I do feel like a princess. Like someone who has stepped out of a fairy tale and into a beautiful reality.

But this isn't a fairy tale, and I know it.

This is real life.

My life, and today is the first day of a new chapter. A chapter I'll be sharing with Luka, the complex, intriguing man who's brought so much joy, change, and even a bit of turmoil into my life.

"Thank you, Yulia," I say, kneeling down to her level. "You make a pretty fantastic flower girl, you know? Almost like a little fairy."

"Really? A fairy?" Yulia's eyes sparkle as she takes in the compliment. She clutches Max's leash a little tighter; the dog is also dressed up for the occasion, looking rather dashing in his miniature tuxedo.

Max barks as if agreeing, and Yulia giggles. "Look, Sophia, even Max thinks he's all ready for the wedding!"

"I can see that," I say, chuckling at Max's adorable little outfit. "You both look amazing. Max is definitely the most handsome dog at the wedding."

"Max is the only dog at the wedding," Wren interjects, adjusting my veil, her eyes squinting as if it's the most important task in the world. "I can't believe you are getting married, best friend."

"I know, right?" I say, looking at Wren in the mirror. "I never thought I'd see the day. I mean, you and I used to have plans to grow old together – two crazy ladies with a house full of cats."

"Speak for yourself, darling. My plan always involved multiple husbands, at least one of whom was a billionaire," Wren retorts, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "But fine, for you, I'd have settled for the crazy cat lady lifestyle."

"Multiple husbands? Really, Wren?" I raise an eyebrow, amused.

"What? I like variety. Is that so wrong?" Wren shoots back, grinning.

Nana shakes her head and mutters something about "young people these days." I look at her, perched quietly in her wheelchair by the window. Beyond her, a tranquil lake mirrors the azure sky, its surface punctuated by the vivid greens of surrounding foliage. Nana is framed by nature's canvas as if she's a subject in a classic painting – beautiful, timeless, and regal.

Ekaterina had helped her to that special spot, and now the sunlight filters through the window, casting a soft luminosity on Nana's face. It accentuates her lines of age, each one a testament to wisdom earned and love given. The room around us, filled with the buzz of preparations, forms a cocoon, a sacred space humming with the vivid hues of our dresses, the shimmer of jewelry, and the tangible yet unspoken expectancy that electrifies the air.

Ekaterina steps towards me, holding a velvet box reverently in her hands.

"Here," she says softly as she opens the box to reveal a tiara. It's not just any tiara; it's an intricate, antique piece encrusted with diamonds that sparkle even in the soft light filtering through the large windows overlooking the serene lake outside. "This belonged to Luka's mother. She would have wanted you to wear it today."

I'm at a loss for words, touched by the emotional weight of the heirloom. I carefully lift the tiara out of the box, the diamonds catching light, twinkling like stars plucked from the sky. It's elegance incarnate, with an arrogance that says, "I am here, and I am spectacular."

"Wow," is all I manage to say.

"One day," Ekaterina continues, her voice full of a mother's wisdom and a touch of solemnity, "little Yulia will wear this on her wedding day."

"I don't wanna get married!" Yulia suddenly blurts out. "So, Sophia, you can keep it forever!"

I laugh at her fierce determination.

"Yulia, darling, you might change your mind one day," Ekaterina says, her eyes twinkling as she looks at her.

"Maybe, but for now, Sophia can be the princess, and I'll be the fairy," Yulia responds, making everyone laugh.

Just as I'm about to reply to Yulia's delightful stance on matrimony, there's a firm knock at the door. It's the sort of knock that doesn't ask for entry but rather demands it. The door swings open, and there, framed in the doorway, stands Svetlana.

"Miss Sophia, the time has come. You are required downstairs," she announces, her voice as cold and unyielding as a winter in Siberia.

Wren eyes her and chuckles. "You do realize it's a wedding, not a military operation, right?"

Svetlana's gaze doesn't waver as she fixes her eyes on me. "Are you prepared?"

I look around the room one last time, locking eyes with each person – Wren's irreverent grin, Ekaterina's maternal warmth, Nana's wise nod, and little Yulia's youthful exuberance.

"Yes," I finally reply, "I'm ready."

Luka

The sun's dropping low on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and gold. From up here, the lake house below looks like some damn postcard. But none of that matters; my eyes are scanning the distance, waiting for the first glimpse of Sophia.

Dimitri is standing next to the towering tombstone of my parents that dominates the hill, intricately carved depictions of their glamorous selves captured forever in pristine marble that refuses to dull, no matter the years it's endured. Simple lines, regal designs, and elegant inscriptions are a testament to their legacy and style. Ostentation was never their thing. They always preferred intimacy, a close circle. Just like tonight – it's just us, family.

Dimitri's face is more serious than the occasion calls for. "You sure about this? Marriage is a life sentence, you know."

"Fuck off, D," I growl, not in the mood for his philosophical shit right now. "You think I'd be here if I wasn't sure?"

And then I see her.

Sophia steps out onto the hillside, and for a moment, everything else fades away. She's a vision, even from this distance. Her dress clings to her like it was made just for her, which it probably was.

"Fuck me," I breathe out, momentarily forgetting that the guys, and even the minister, are standing beside me.

"Ready for this?" Erik asks, clapping a hand on my shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips.

I let out a shaky breath, gripping my fists to steady myself. "More ready than I've ever been for anything."

My attention is fixated on Sophia. She's now close enough that the intricate patterns of her dress come into view, shimmering as they catch the last remnants of the day's sun. I can't help but inhale sharply; the sight of her is overwhelming.

God! She's absolutely breathtaking, and in this moment, the world seems to fade away, leaving just the two of us.

The delicate veil hides most of her face, but I catch that familiar chin dip – a silent, graceful acknowledgment as she continues her walk, each step calculated and assured. And there's Wren, guiding Sophia, ever the graceful companion. The two of them make quite the pair.

Dimitri leans in, his voice a low whisper. "She's a vision, isn't she?"

Caught off-guard, I can only nod, wondering if he's talking about Wren or Sophia. My mind wanders, just for a second, to the memory of my parents. It's a comforting thought, the idea that they might be watching over me, blessing this union from afar.

"The Pakhan would be over the moon for you, Luka," Erik says.

"Yeah," I reply, the significance of the moment settling in.

This is it. The beginning of a new chapter.

Suddenly, a burst of energy catches my eye. "Luka! Erik! Dima!" Yulia calls out, her voice full of mirth. The sight of her is enough to draw a chuckle from me. Dressed in a little frock that matches the wedding's theme, she leads the way, with Max trotting dutifully by her side. In one hand, she holds a flower basket, and with the other, she waves enthusiastically at us. Her face is lit up, brighter than any star, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"D! Look at her! Isn't she the cutest?" Erik nudges Dimitri playfully, nodding towards Yulia.

I watch Sophia as she takes her final step, each one more measured than the last, stopping right in front of the altar. With a subtle, graceful movement, she hands her lily bouquet to Wren, who accepts it with a beaming smile.

With her free hand, Sophia turns to me, and we interlock our fingers. The warmth and connection are immediate. A genuine grin escapes from me, a reflection of the happiness bubbling from within.

God, she is stunning.

I glance past Sophia for a moment to acknowledge Nana, her revered grandmother. With a nod of respect, I silently appreciate her for raising this woman standing in front of me so wonderfully on her own.

That's the woman right there who I've sworn to stand by, to love fiercely, and to throw down for, no matter what.

"Now," the minister's voice fills the air, breaking our shared moment, "we gather here to unite Luka Ivankov and Sophia Williams in marriage, celebrating the love and journey they've chosen to embark on together. Sophia…" the minister calls out.

She inhales audibly, her hand squeezing mine.

Behind the veil, I can't see her face clearly, but I can feel every ounce of her sincerity. She takes a deep breath, and her eyes briefly flit to mine, a hint of nervousness evident.

Clearing her throat delicately, she starts with a shaky voice, her accent thick yet endearing. "Ya, Sophia, brat tyebya, Luka, za moj zakonuju muzha."

I feel the weight of her words, translating in my heart to, "I, Sophia, take you, Luka, to be my lawfully wedded husband."

There's a pause as she tries to recall the next line. She takes another breath. "V radosti i v gore, v bogatstve i v bednosti," she continues. I can't help but smile as she says, "In joy and in sorrow, in wealth and in want." The slight stumble over her words, the earnest effort she's putting in to use my mother tongue melt my heart. She's always surprising me. I squeeze her hands gently.

"Did I say it right?" she whispers, her tone playful yet anxious.

Pulling her closer, the veil thinning between us, I reply, "Perfectly. And with an accent that's utterly captivating."

I can't wait to have her all alone with me.

The minister, sensing my impatience, clears his throat. My attention snaps back to the present. My hands, still entwined with Sophia's, tighten their hold. It's time for my vow, and I feel the weight of the moment, the importance of the words I'm about to utter.

"Sophia," my voice is deep, husky with emotion, and even though her face is hidden behind the veil, I can sense her rapt attention. "Sophia, before this moment, I've lived my life without knowing the meaning of love, but now, it's time for my heart to speak its truth. I love you, Sophia Williams. From the moment you came into my life, everything changed. You brought light into my darkest days, gave meaning to the moments I once took for granted."

There's a slight pause, my eyes finding hers behind that delicate fabric. "Ya, Luka Ivankov, brat tyebya, Sophia, za svoju zakonuju zenu – I, Luka Ivankov, take you, Sophia, to be my lawfully wedded wife. Chtoby imet' i derzat', nacinaja s etogo dnja – to have and to hold, from this day forward. Until the very last beat of my heart."

I sense the onlookers' collective breath being held, the silence weighing heavily with the emotions of our vow.

"The rings?" The minister's voice punctuates the moment, and Dimitri and Wren step forward, the gold bands glinting as they catch the light.

Sophia's fingers tremble just a little, reaching out to slide the gold band over my knuckle. "With this ring, I marry you," she says, her voice thick with emotion.

Returning the gesture, I take the other band, sliding it onto her delicate finger. "With this ring, I marry you," I echo, sealing our promise.

The minister smiles, a kind expression that reaches his eyes. "It gives me great pleasure to pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

The moment I've been waiting for.

Without wasting a second, I reach out, lifting the veil to reveal her radiant face. Those green eyes, shimmering with happy tears, meet mine. Her lips move ever so slightly, barely parting, as if she's breathing out a secret. Even without sound, the careful movement of her mouth forms three unmistakable words: "I love you." It's as silent as a whisper.

I lean in, gently pressing my lips against Sophia's. She wraps her arms tenderly around my neck, urging me closer, her lips yielding beneath mine as she intensifies our connection. I surrender to her pull. The shadows of my past and the fierce world I'm entangled with fade, overtaken by a love so profound that it leaves me in awe.

For you, I'd conquer empires.

For our child, I'd lay waste to entire cities.

But right now, all that matters is being the man you deserve and the father our child requires.

"See! I told you Beauty and the Beast would be together!" Yulia exclaims, her excitement unmistakable. She claps her hands together with such joy that it's infectious.

Max, always the loyal companion, chimes in with an enthusiastic bark, his tail wagging in harmony with the mood of the room.

Laughter bubbles up from the small crowd gathered, the lightness of the moment shared by all.

Erik, looking a touch impatient but with a smirk on his face, says, "I think it's time we head down to celebrate." He arches an eyebrow, his gaze drifting momentarily towards the lakeside. "My whiskey awaits, after all."

"I think we've had enough of formalities," I remark, watching as the guests begin to make their way toward the lakeside celebration. The scent of the food drifting up from the lake is inviting.

Wren, with her ever-playful demeanor, chuckles. "You may think so, but there's still the matter of the bouquet."

Sophia's eyes light up with mischief. "Ah! Wait. Almost forgot." She takes a step back, clutching the bouquet.

Erik smirks. "Just throw it to Wren and save us the theatrics."

But as Sophia swings her arm back and releases the bouquet, it's Dimitri – of all people – who unexpectedly catches it, his reflexes as a seasoned fighter coming into play. He stares down at the bouquet, his face a canvas of surprise.

"Fuck," he mumbles.

Sophia bursts into laughter.

Looking at her, a realization hits.

I can't think of happiness without her in it.

Dimitri, trying to play it cool with the bouquet in hand, mutters, "It just…flew my way."

Wren teases, "Looks like fate's sending you a message."

"Then you can have it," Dimitri retorts, tossing the bouquet in Wren's direction.

With a swift move, she catches it. "No!" she shouts out.

Yulia tugs at my sleeve, her big eyes wide with innocence, "Does this mean Dimitri and Wren will get married next?"

I chuckle, ruffling her hair. "Maybe, Maly?ka."

I wrap an arm around Sophia, pulling her close. This moment, with friends, laughter, and love, is all I've ever wanted. The beast in me is at peace, all thanks to the beauty beside me.