Page 135 of King of Obsession

“I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry.” I tilt my head and sigh. “But who will take care of your heart?”

His posture stiffens, and he looks outside the window as if he wants to return to a specific moment in time. “My heart is a desert. Nothing grows there but duty and nothing else is needed. It was killed a long time ago.”

“Oh, Mika, what did you do?”

“What I had to.”

He purses his lips, letting me know the subject is closed, and my heart breaks at his deep-seated pain.

He guides me through the luxurious house that, in comparison, puts to shame the one I lived in back in Italy.

“Are you nervous?” he asks as we approach the big hardwood front door.

“Not at all.” I am at peace knowing I am marrying Enzo—my other half and the only man for me.

As the quartet begins to play, one guard opens the doors, giving me a slight head bow. It hasn’t been an easy road to get accepted by them and it fills me with pride that I’ve earned more than their respect but their loyalty.

It’s two families coming together—the Ferraras and Morozovs—that will forever be interlinked because of our marriage.

Clutching the calla lily bouquet in my hand, I take a step forward, my eyes instantly finding his.

My intention of not crying crumbles when I witness him overcome with emotions. His eyes glisten while the corners of his mouth are arched in the biggest smile. Pride and amazement are etched on his face and so much love shines in those greens of his.

Butterflies flap their wings in my belly as if trying to escape their confines. My breath hitches, feelings overwhelming me.

A palm goes to his chest as he watches me approach. He’s more than awed. He’s silently promising me I have it all. In response, my heart leaps as if wanting to erase the distance and merge with his––becoming one.

Mika walks me to him, and Enzo takes my hand in his, intertwining our fingers. He’ll never let me go. I won’t either.

My man looks beyond handsome—mouthwatering in his dark green and black jacket and pants, a small calla lily pinned on his breast pocket. He’s always so thoughtful.

Giving myself to him is liberating and not even for a second does it feels like a cage. If it is one, I don’t care. I love this gilded place full of love and safety where I can be myself without a care.

After we say “I do” and sign on the dotted line, I soak in the sacredness and significance of this moment when we fully become an inextricable unit. Eyes locked, an undeniable knowledge tugs at my heartstrings. Becoming his wife has been written by God Himself with indelible ink in my life’s book. What a magical experience as we kiss for the first time as husband and wife.

Congratulations follow, and I hear myself thanking everyone. The only person not part of the family is Tristan,cloaked in a dangerous aura and poised in his black suit and crisp white shirt—looking like the King of New York that he is.

He congratulates us, shaking hands with my husband and nodding my way, then he takes a seat next to Mika and his three right hands. While I was wary of Enzo inviting him, now I realize they’re close friends. We need all the allies we can get.

I don’t lose eye contact with my husband as he swings me around on the makeshift parquet floor in the garden. He places his hand low on my waist while he thrusts the other out and holds my palm. Everything and everyone else vanish as we dance. I rest my cheek against his chest and let him lead, take me to the place only he can—blissful euphoria and sweet rapture.

Burying his face in my neck, he whispers in my ear, “You’re mine. I have a signed document and witnesses attesting to that.”

I giggle. “I know. I was there, husband.”

My husband. Mine. I doubt I will ever tire of calling him that.

He groans low, the deep sound awakening goose bumps on my skin. “I love the sound of that, wife.”

One dance turns to another, and we don’t stop as we kiss and touch, enjoying our special day.

Looking around, I see everyone is already at their tables eating when I whisper, “And I have a collar that’s waiting to be put back on where it belongs.”

“I’ll never take it off after today,” he says resolutely.

“Good,” I chime, arching a teasing brow at him.” But you insisted on buying me jewelry…”

“I just love to adorn your pretty neck. You’re my woman to spoil, but you can wear them both.”

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