But he reaches out and touches my cheek lightly. “You’re my first everything, treasure. You’re the first woman I’ve loved, and I swear you’ll be the last.”
“Okay. Let’s get married.”
“You’re getting married!” Guilia exclaims, from just outside the doorway.
“I’ll arrange everything,” Beso says, as he enters the dining room from the kitchen.
“Nope! We’re doing this together, just the two of us.” I wrap my fingers into Misha’s, and he smiles as he leans forward to kiss my cheek.
“Just us,” he agrees.
We’ll have to face the Italians and the Russians sooner than later. But we’ll do that together, too.
Epilogue
Dimitri Federov
I know they said they did not want guests, but I couldn’t resist joining them. I had to witness this for myself. I had to see that they love each other enough to vow it before God, no matter what their families think about it.
Chiara and Misha could not have picked a more beautiful backdrop for their wedding, even if they did elope.
“Am I late?” I ask, as Chiara catches sight of me. She rolls her eyes, but holds her hand out to welcome me.
When I take her hand and shake it, I get a vibe from Misha that tells me immediately to back off. If I had a woman like Chiara, beautiful, sassy, and genuinely caring, I might not want another man to touch her either. I respect both of them, so I step away immediately, to stand beside Misha.
“You didn’t bring Guilia?” Chiara asks me, looking a little sad.
“It might be too much of a risk, right now,” I say. When I see the expression of the officiant, I become silent. I have to keep her inside, because letting the young woman out of a hotel room might be hazardous to her health. I won’t say it aloud, though. I don’t want outsiders to become too nosy. At least she’s comfortable there, and she enjoys my valet’s company. I won’t break his fingers if he touches her, no matter what Chiara wants. Guilia was right at dinner last night. She deserves the right to decide her own path.
“Are you the best man?” the woman asks.
“Yes, he is,” Misha replies. He gives me a smile that almost looks victorious.
Do they think I don’t have a soldier following them? I need to keep them safe. They are my hope at joining the families, and avoiding the war that I feel is bubbling under the surface.
It was easy enough to find them, even if I didn’t have someone following them. They are probably only four hundred feet from the beach in front of my hotel, The Royal Palace. I know it’s a throwback to Tzarist Russia, but we don’t have a lot in our history to romanticize. And the interior designers had a field day with the theme, even if I find it a little garish at times.
“Do you, Mikhail Ivanovich, take Chiara to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Misha smiles brightly, and replies, “Yes.”
Memories of my own wedding flood back. Anya looked so beautiful that day, but not happy. Not like Chiara. She glows with happiness, and love.
“Do you, Chiara Rossi, take Mikhail to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do.” She is stunning, in her pretty white summer dress with her dark hair flowing. She practically jumps into his arms, and kisses him before the woman tells Misha to kiss the bride. He is a lucky man.
I had to practically beg Anya to consummate our union. I thought that she would accept it. Our fathers both assured me this was the right thing to do, and our mothers told me she would warm up to me, eventually. It never happened. But she had no problem warming up to every other man she found.
I need to stop thinking about myself, and think about the couple in front of me, kissing and hugging happily as if the rest of the world doesn’t matter.
I really hope they make it.
I hope they enjoy their small victory. They may have won this battle, but I fear the war has only just begun.
To Be Continued…
Chiara and Misha will join Dimitri in his story, Kept, coming 2018
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War (Bratva and Mafia Chronicles Book 1) Page 18