Page 41 of Bratva Beast

“I will let you know.”

My father pauses which is never a good sign. “I’m sending Irina. She’ll bring dresses, shoes, and the other stuff. You need to go see Arkadii. He’s expecting you to choose the ring. I had him set aside the sapphires.”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Anatoly will handle George. You get her married.” The phone disconnects as I take a large breath.

Chapter 11

THANKSGIVING - SIX WEEKS LATER

ISABELLA

I stare at myself in the mirror. The last week has been a whirlwind of quick planning. Papa arranged for me to take time off for Thanksgiving week. We’re at Hugo’s vineyard in Northwest New York. My dress gives the impression that it was made especially for me. Irina brought six dresses for me to try, and this one was perfect. The warm off-white shows off my skin and my hair. The A-line with a fitted bodice covered in intricate lace sitting atop a cascade of material in a full skirt. I can’t wait to walk out and see Cynric dressed in his dark suit. Thane will be absent from the festivities. Cynric hasn’t forgiven him yet.

Tap, Tap. I turn to the door as it opens. Papa strolls in, dressed in a dark suit and light blue tie. “Ready?”

I nod, watching a smile blossom on the devil’s face. “You’re perfect.”

My mind scrambles to remember a time where Papa offered a compliment that didn’t carry a string or an obligation. “Thanks.”

“Cynric is pacing.”

I can’t fight the silly smile creeping up my mouth. “Really?”

“Yeah. He reminds me of me and his mother. You’ll be careful.”

I nod, instinctively running my hand across my small bump. “I will.”

“Let’s get out there.”

I grab my bouquet of roses and take his arm. “Thank you for bringing me into your family.”

Papa leans down and kisses my forehead. “Our family.”

Stepping out of the room, he walks me to a sturdy, authentic wooden set of doors. The wedding march plays on the other side of the door as it opens. The two hundred guests stand as we enter the large barn. Cynric turns, and I wish I had a camera to catch the look of adoration across his face.

Papa growls. “He should know better than showing his heart out in the open. If everyone didn’t know you meant everything before, they do now.”

I grip his arm. “It just made you stronger.”

He smiles. “You’re right. We built an empire.” He nods to the judge as he hands my hand to Cynric. He puts his hand on Cynric’s shoulder. “Create your legacy.”

Cynric nods as the judge shifts the bible in his hand.

Papa sits in the front row behind me.

The judge clears his throat. “Cynric made me promise to do this quickly. So, without further ado. Cynric, do you take Isabella Reeves as your wife? To have and to hold from this day forward,in sickness and in health, for better, or worse, for richer or poorer, for as long as you both shall live?”

Cynric nods. “I do.”

The judge changes his focus to me. “Do you Isabella take Cynric Bravikov to be your husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“Are there rings?” Wystan hands the judge the velvet box. The judge opens the top of the box and selects the rings, handing the container back to Wystan. “Rings are a visible sign of your marriage. They share fidelity with the world and possession to each other. Do you have vows to share with each other?”

Cynric nods. He takes the ring offered by the judge and slides it on my finger. He leans in, making sure to not be heard by others. “Isochka. You are the light in my darkness and the melody in my heart. Your beauty, both inside and out, has enchanted me. I’m forever grateful for the love you’ve given me and the family you’re going to share with me. I love you.”

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