Page 156 of Wicked Savage

I scan the guests seated in front of the draped canopy: my family, hers, a sea of faces all watching me, all waiting for her. Never in a million years did I think I’d find myself here. A man who used to despise the Marinovs. Hell, I still don’t like them—except her.

I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything. It surpasses all my doubts, all the bitterness, all the things I used to believe. If only I could rewind time and undo all the hurt I caused her, maybe she’d be happy to marry me.

“You look like you’re about to be sick,” Fionn chuckles, breaking into my thoughts.

Tynan leans in. “He’s probably afraid she’s already run off, just like last time.”

I throw him a warning glare, but it doesn’t faze him.

If Dinara tries to leave, Konstantin will make sure she doesn’t get far. I have no doubt about that.

“She won’t run,” Tatiana interjects from across the aisle, holding a bouquet of delicate white roses. Her voice is steady, confident, as though she knows for sure, and it helps settle some of the tension in my chest.

“But if you hurt her again…” Natalia cuts in, cold and stern, eyes gleaming with something darker. “I will personally kill you, and it will be painful.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Trust me, I don’t plan on ever doing that again.”

I don’t know if she realizes how much I mean it.

“Good.” Her chin tilts upward in a gesture that says she’s not messing around. “You’d better not.”

The music shifts, and that’s when everything starts to feel real.

The guests rise, the air humming with anticipation. My pulse pounds in my ears, every second stretching longer than the last. My gaze locks on to the end of the aisle…and then I see her.

I let out a laugh, unable to help myself.

Dinara isn’t like other brides. While every other woman in this moment would be bathed in white, she walks toward me draped in black from head to toe. The black veil covering her face conceals her from view, while her strapless lace gown clings to her figure in a way that takes my breath away.

She’s perfection. Strong, flawless, and every bit the woman I’ve wanted for so long.

Konstantin walks her down the aisle proudly, a smile curling at the corners of his lips. His eyes meet mine briefly before he stops in front of me, lifting her veil gently. He kisses both of her cheeks, whispers something I can’t hear into her ear, then places her hand in mine.

“You take care of our girl,” he says in a low, steady tone, filled with an unspoken trust.

“I will.” My words carry the weight of all I’ve been through to get here.

Dinara looks up at me, her eyes locking with mine, and for a brief moment, I see something softer in them—a glimpse of the woman I used to know.

Leaning into her ear, my breath warm against her skin, I say, “Interesting dress choice, baby.”

She meets my gaze with a coy little smile that makes me wanna kiss her right now. “What else is a girl supposed to wear to her own funeral?”

I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head. “Tha thu bòidheach.”

“What does that mean?” she whispers.

“It means, ‘You’re beautiful.’”

Her eyes widen for a moment before the priest gets our attention. But my focus remains on my wife, my heart pounding as I realize that everything—all the mistakes, all the years lost—has led me to this moment.

And no matter what happens next, I know this is where I’m supposed to be.

* * *

DINARA

“You may now kiss the bride.”

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