Page 120 of Midnight Wedding

He nods and looks away. “Something changed. I always wondered why she got so resentful of you. Maybe it’s guilt?”

“I don’t care.” I finish my coffee and get up from the table. “Sona’s nothing to me.”

“What’re you going to do about her?”

“I’m going to tell the Brotherhood the truth about me. She’ll have to live with the truth.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

I look back at him as I go refill my mug. “Why not?”

“You’re half Russian. You ever hear of a half-Russianpatronbefore? Things are tenuous with the Brotherhood already. If they find out you’re not full-blood Armenian?—”

He lets that hang in the air. I’m sure he wants me to picture all manner of terrible outcomes, but I’ve been through it all. That was part of what I was doing in the goddamn walls of my own house, imagining every terrible worst-case scenario.

“The Brotherhood is going to change,” I tell him. “Whether they want to or not.”

“The war just ended. You’re going to kick it off again.”

“No, I’m not. Everyone’s ready for the fighting to be over. Now it’s time for me to reshape the Brotherhood while we rebuild toward the future. This is my family, Tigran. I need to know you’re with me.”

“After all this time, you think I wouldn’t be?”

“I’m giving you the option.”

“Fucking prick.” He waves a hand at me dismissively. “I’m on your side. Always and forever.”

“Go tell the others I’ll be back from my honeymoon tonight. Tomorrow morning, we’ll have a big meeting of the family heads.”

“Alright, I think they can survive until then.”

“Make sure Sona’s present as well.”

His eyebrows raise. “You think that’s a good idea?”

“Doesn’t matter. I want her there.”

“Whatever you say, brother.”

I’m feelinglight as I walk through the mansion. Maud’s happy to see me out and about, although she does her best not to smother me. Still, my favorite lunch is waiting:pasta fagiolisoup with some homemade crusty bread. I have a taste and promise to sit down for a big bowl later on.

But first, I want to see my wife.

I find her in the nursery. She’s humming to herself as she folds some onesies and burp towels and puts them into a drawer. I watch her from the doorway, not hiding this time, but I don’t want to disturb the moment yet.

She’s so fucking perfect. The way she moves, almost twitchy and abrupt, the way she keeps shoving her hair from her face, the piercings, her off-pitch singing. Everything about her. It’s imperfect and messy, and fuckingright.

“I guess it’s an improvement if you’re going to stare at me from over there instead of in the walls,” she says, grinning up at me. She throws a towel over and I snatch it from the air.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Did I mention some of your guards thought the house was haunted?”

“Oh, it definitely is.” I fold the towel and put it away. “Or it was, but not anymore.”

“Yeah? You busted those ghosts?”

“Dealt with them at least.” I take her by the hips and kiss her. The kiss turns hungry as my tongue explores her mouth.

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