Page 91 of Never Distract a Biker

For a moment, I’m too stunned to speak. But then, my trademark sass kicks in. “Didn’t you already order me to marry you?” I ask, a teasing smile tugging at my lips.

Viktor chuckles, the sound warm and unguarded. “Yes, but this is me asking. Properly.”

His bashful smile takes me by surprise. For a man so used to commanding a room, this softer side is disarming. “So?” he prompts, his voice light but his eyes betraying a hint of nervousness.

I let out a soft laugh, my heart full. “Yes,” I say simply, the word carrying all the weight of my feelings for him.

Viktor slides the ring onto my finger, and for a moment, I can’t speak—I can’t even breathe. The ring is stunning, otherworldly in its beauty. The marquise-cut diamond at the center is massive, refracting the light into a kaleidoscope of rainbows. Surrounding it are smaller, perfectly cut diamonds, each one catching the fading sunlight like glittering stars in a velvet sky. The band is delicate yet sturdy, a perfect balance of elegance and strength—much like Viktor himself.

I stare at the ring, my jaw slack. “This ... This is ... Viktor, this is insane.” My voice comes out barely above a whisper as I twist my hand to catch the full brilliance of the diamonds.

Viktor smirks, clearly amused by my reaction. “You don’t like it?”

“Are you kidding me? It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” I look at him, my heart racing. “How much did this cost?”

His smirk grows into a full, mischievous grin. “A million dollars.”

I freeze. My eyes widen, and for a moment, I think I might actually faint. “What? Are you serious? A million?”

“Absolutely,” he says, his voice calm and matter-of-fact as if he’d just told me the sky is blue.

I shake my head, struggling to process. “Viktor, I don’t even know what that kind of money looks like. And now you expect me to wear it on my finger?”

He cups my face with both hands, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks. “Scarlett, you’re worth far more than A million dollars. This ring is just the beginning. As my wife, I will give you everything—anything you desire. Money means nothing to me. But you? You mean everything.”

His words are spoken with such conviction that I feel my chest tighten. Tears prick the corners of my eyes, but I blink them away, overwhelmed by the intensity of his love and the life he’s offering me.

Before I can respond, Viktor pulls me close, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that feels like both a declaration and a promise. It’s slow and deliberate, each movement filled with the weight of what we’ve just agreed to. My hands find their way to his chest, the hard muscle beneath reminding me of the man who protects me, who cherishes me.

The world around us fades away—the bustling cityscape below, the wind tugging at my hair, even the faint hum of construction noise. All I can feel is Viktor. His warmth, his strength, his unyielding presence.

And then it happens—a gentle flutter beneath my skin, followed by another, more pronounced kick. I pull back slightly, startled, my hands instinctively flying to my belly.

“What’s wrong?” Viktor asks, his brows knitting together in concern.

“They’re kicking,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “The babies—they’re kicking.”

A slow smile spreads across his face, and he drops to his knees, placing his large hands over my growing belly. “They know,” he murmurs, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. “They know their parents are promising them a future together.”

His words make my heart swell, and I laugh softly, brushing my fingers through his hair. “It’s like they’re celebrating with us.”

Viktor presses a kiss to my stomach, his tenderness a stark contrast to the fierce man I know him to be. When he stands, his eyes lock onto mine, and for the first time in my life, I feel completely and utterly safe.

“Together,” he says, his voice resolute.

“Together,” I echo, leaning into his embrace as the city lights begin to twinkle in the distance, bearing witness to the first steps of our future as a family.

42

Viktor

I watch from the doorway as Scarlett and my sisters put the finishing touches on the nursery. The room glows with a warmth I hadn’t realized was missing from this house. Soft blues and pinks cover the walls, divided by white trim. Scarlett stands near a crib, adjusting a mobile of stars that catch the light just right. Rainbows scatter across the room, and for a moment, I forget everything else.

“Do you think the twins will like it?” Scarlett asks, turning to Alina, who is folding impossibly small onesies into a drawer.

“They’d better,” Alina replies with a grin. “This place looks better than my room.”

“You just want an excuse to move in,” Yelena teases, tying bows on a crib bumper.

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