Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
I’m just in time to welcome Christiano, the Capo dei Capi of the Cosa Nostra, and his wife, Sienna.
Everyone arrives with their own entourage of guards, and by the time Yegor’s associates pull up to the house, they are outnumbered a hundred to one.
“Here goes everything,” I mutter to Andrei as I take the stairs down, and as Zubkov, Yeltsin, and Popov get out of the same car, they glance at the side of the estate where Tamara has decorated the garden for the ceremony and reception.
Noticing all the influential people I’ve managed to get together in one spot, the fuckers smile at me as if we’re old friends.
“You didn’t waste any time forming alliances,” Popov says as he comes to shake my hand. “We look forward to witnessing the vows between you and Yegor’s granddaughter, then we can talk business.”
I gesture to the tall tables where drinks are being served. “Enjoy the day.”
When I turn my attention back to the porch, Atanas hurries down the steps and makes a beeline for a brunette. The instant she spots him, she freezes and stares at him.
You can cut the tension between them with a knife, and when Atanas reaches who I can only presume is Raya, he presses a kiss to her cheek before offering her his arm.
Andrei taps my shoulder, then says, “Your mother says it’s time for you to take your place.”
I walk with my friend to where an arch made of tiny white flowers is standing, and taking my position by it, I glance over the rows of chairs as my guests find their seats.
Artem and Dad come to sit in the front row, and only once everyone quiets down do the opening notes of Pachelbel’s Canon in D begin to fill the air.
After our date, I’ve spent every available moment with Anastasia, and it’s become a routine for us to talk late into the night until she drifts off to sleep.
The couch has been fucking uncomfortable, but after today that will be a thing of the past.
Aunt Marina and Miss Zoya hurry up the aisle and take their seats while smiling from ear to ear.
My eyes lock on the French doors that stand open, and when I see a flash of white, I square my shoulders.
Finally. After today, Anastasia will be mine in every way.
The song changes from an orchestra playing to a solo piano, and the moment Anastasia steps into the doorway, holding a bouquet of white lilies, I’m hit with such a wave of pride, love, and awe that it knocks me a step backward.
Seeing how nervous and alone she looks, I can’t stand still, and instead walk to her. Her moss-green eyes lock on me, and she sucks in a quivering breath, doing her best not to cry.
When I reach my stunning bride, I hold out my arm so she can take it, and as she grips the crook of my elbow, I say, “I would’ve waited fifty years for you.”
A tear escapes, and as we walk to the arch where the priest is waiting, I don’t take my eyes off her.
I’m so focused on Anastasia, I probably won’t remember the ceremony, but I somehow get through my vows without fucking up.
The moment the priest finishes his blessing and lowers his hand, signaling the end of the ceremony, I wrap my arms around Anastasia and tip her backward while pressing my mouth to hers.
My wife.
Cheers erupt from the guests, but it’s quickly drowned out by shouts from the guards, indicating for us all to move to the backyard while gunfire erupts in the street.
Not hesitating, I grab Anastasia's hand and shout at my family, “Run!”
Suddenly, a truck barrels through the front wall, and knowing what’s coming, I haul my wife to the grass and cover her with my body.
An explosion blasts through the air as Andrei and Sergei throw themselves over me.
Their weight shoves me into Anastasia, but I cover her head, and by her ear, I say, “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
Another explosion detonates, and I hear Sergei grunt.
It feels like it takes forever before Sergei and Andrei get up, and my underboss barks, “Is it over?”
“It only looks like the one truck,” I hear a guard shout. “A suicide bomber.”
My phone begins to ring, and moving onto my haunches, I keep a hand on Anastasia’s chest while I dig the device out. Glancing over her, I check for blood while I answer, “Volkov.”
“Did you receive my wedding present?” Sokolov’s voice rumbles over the line.
“Yes,” I growl.
“You won’t live long enough to consummate the marriage.”
The call ends, and tucking the device back into my pocket, I lock eyes with Andrei and say, “I want every man on high alert. The bomb was only the start. Sokolov declared war.”
Half of the guests run for their cars, along with Zubkov, Yeltsin, and Popov.