Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
We take our first dance in the center of the room under a canopy of twinkling fairy lights. It feels. . . magical.
As the evening transitions into night, the garden is illuminated with soft lighting, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. Though this is by no means a typical wedding, it feels. . . homey. Familiar. Comfortable. Guests begin to leave, and soon, it’s mostly family and close friends who remain.
“It’s time,” Nikko finally says.
“Time?”
I hear a horn blare outside the large window. I turn and laugh out loud at the sight of the car elaborately decorated with ribbons and flowers, even a little plush teddy tied to the antenna and two large golden rings hanging by ribbons in the back window.
“My brothers really outdid themselves,” he says with a groan. “And yes. It’s time for us to head to our honeymoon. We need some time to ourselves.” He reaches for my hand. “We’ll have to come back here again soon, but for now, I want to take you somewhere where just the two of us can finally rest.”
I smile at him and whisper in his ear, “You’ve never said anything sexier.”
My mother approaches us. “Come and visit?”
“Of course I will,” I tell her. “We’ll likely only spend half our time in Russia anyway.”
She smiles. “I’ll take it!”
“Plus, someone has to help you get ready for Lydia’s wedding.”
She sighs. “Indeed.”
Ekaterina kisses Nikko, then me. “Thank you,” she whispers in my ear. “He loves you so.”
Polina, Aria, and Harper all give me huge hugs and their cell phone numbers, and Harper hands me a bag she’s packed with “all the essentials.”
“I want you to tell me all about that research you’re doing when you come back,” Polina says. “I can’t wait to hear it.”
“You can count on it.”
His brothers aren’t quite as warm and fuzzy, but it’s probably because of the possessive grip Nikko has on me. He’s sort of exuding a “touch her, and I will fucking kill you” vibe to literally everyone, so it makes sense Mikhail and the rest only wave from a distance. Nikko has, after all, fought through hell and back to be where he is now.
Finally, we turn and face the darkness of the night, barely lit by the overhead twinkling of stars and the garden lighting. Hand in hand. . . our journey has only just begun.
EPILOGUE
Vera
A week flutters by since the wedding—seven days as Nikko's wife, and I can hardly believe where we are, who we are.
Vera Romanov... his wife. Though I'd almost felt like his wife when we pretended, and it often even felt real, nothing could have prepared me for how it really is.
Each morning, I wake up to the soft light filtering through the curtains, casting a warm glow that seems to highlight the new ring on my finger. The simple act of waking next to Nikko, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing, and seeing the calm on his face as he sleeps is a daily reminder of the profound change in our lives. It's both surreal and deeply comforting.
I like calling him by his real name. It brings a layer of authenticity to everything, a freshness that makes my heart swell. Here, in the rustic charm of The Cove, our days are filled with laughter, shared stories, and the casual comfort of familiarity. I grew up not far from here. This is a side of life Nikko hasn't often experienced, yet he fits in seamlessly, his usual guarded demeanor softened by the easy camaraderie and open hearts of my family.
He takes me to his home. I love it here. It’s large and spacious, clean and simple, warm and comforting…like him.
It's the kind of place that honors old memories and hearkens new ones. As we mingle with his family, Nikko's hand finds mine and squeezes.
“I don’t know if I ever thought this could be real. I wouldn’t let myself believe it.”
I lean over and kiss his cheek. “Believe it.”
However, despite the joy and celebration, there's an undercurrent of something else—something reflected in the eyes of Viktor, who has taken his duties as best man from the wedding into a kind of solemn guardianship even here. He visits often, and for some reason, keeps asking me about my family, my home, and on his third visit, my sister Lydia. His large, heavy frame leans against the rough wood of the doorway, his eyes occasionally scanning the perimeter before returning to observe the festivities with reserved detachment.
I approach him.
"Viktor, are you all right?" I ask as I reach him, noting the way his posture stiffens slightly, ready to revert to his role if needed.
He gives a slight nod, his gaze flickering to meet mine before looking away. “Fine, yes."
Nikko approaches us, a drink in hand, his presence an immediate comfort. "What’s going on?"