Page 75 of Deceptive Vows
I looked... bridal. Beautiful. But most surprisingly, still myself.
“Oh, Thea,” Aunt Helen whispered, tears gathering in her eyes. “You’re breathtaking.”
Claire blinked rapidly, fanning her face. “Nazar is going to lose his mind when he sees you.”
“Agreed.” Anna adjusted the veil on its temporary stand nearby.
I was saved from responding by a knock at thedoor. Claire answered it, revealing Lex in his charcoal suit, a small box in his hands.
“Lucas sent this up for you—” He stopped short as he caught sight of me. “Wow, Thea. You look... incredible.”
I shot him a nervous smile, accepting the box. Inside was the ring I would give Nazar, a simple platinum band, engraved on the inside with my initials and the date. It was heavier than I expected, solid and real in my palm.
“Are you ready?” Lex studied my face with the careful attention he’d always shown, able to read me better than most.
Was I? Ready to walk into a church and promise myself to a man I’d known mere weeks? Ready to say vows that might be temporary, might be permanent, depending on circumstances largely beyond our control?
“As I’ll ever be.” I attempted a lightness I didn’t entirely feel.
A flutter of activity followed—final adjustments to my veil, Claire and Anna gathering their bouquets, Aunt Helen pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before departing for the church ahead of us.
Then suddenly it was time, the hotel suite emptying until only Lexremained with me, holding my bouquet of winter blooms while I gathered my thoughts.
“Lucas is waiting downstairs with the car,” he said gently. “But we have a minute if you need it.”
I nodded, grateful for his understanding. “How does it feel? Knowing Sofia will be there today?”
Lex’s expression darkened momentarily. “Complicated. But today isn’t about Gabriele or Marco or their schemes. It’s about you—and Nazar.”
I smoothed my hands down the silk of my dress. “When I was little, before Lucas found me, I didn’t dream of marriage or dresses, but this feels like what I might have dreamed of had I been that type of little girl.”
“I think Nazar is in love with you, Thea, for what it’s worth. I think he sees you as you are and appreciates your fire and independence.”
The words hung between us. I thought of the way Nazar’s eyes tracked me across a room, the way he’d noticed my affinity for knives before he even knew my name, how he seemed to understand my need for independence without feeling threatened by it.
“Yes,” I admitted, the truth startling in its simplicity. “I think he does.”
Something in Lex’s expression softened, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Then maybe this isn’t just for show after all.”
Before I could formulate a response, a text chimed on his phone—Lucas, waiting below.
“Time to go.” Lex offered me his arm.
I accepted it, gathering my skirt with my free hand as he led me from the suite. The veil cascaded down my back, not yet lowered over my face—that would come later, at the church.
The elevator ride to the lobby passed in anticipatory silence. Through the glass doors, I could see the sleek black car waiting at the curb, Lucas standing beside it in his perfectly tailored suit. My brother—the man who had saved me, given me a family, a home, a future. Without him, none of this would be possible.
As we approached, his expression softened into a smile I hadn’t seen since before we lost Ma and Pa. “Thea,” he said simply, taking my hands. “You look just like Ma.”
The comparison brought unexpected tears to my eyes, which I blinked away rapidly. “Don’t make me cry. You’ll ruinmy makeup, and I’m carrying a knife,” I warned, though my voice lacked its usual edge.
Lucas laughed softly, helping me into the car. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The drive to St. Andrews passed in relative silence, Lucas occasionally squeezing my hand in wordless support. Outside, Chicago was wrapped in winter’s embrace—bare trees, snow-dusted streets, pedestrians bundled against the cold. The familiar landscape of my city grounded me as my thoughts threatened to spin out of control.
When the Byzantine dome of the church came into view, my pulse quickened. Somewhere inside, Nazar waited. My soon-to-be husband—a phrase that still felt foreign on my tongue.
We pulled up to the side entrance, away from curious eyes and the smattering of press that had gathered at the main doors. News of the Kalantzis-Volkov wedding had inevitably leaked, just as we’d planned, the union of two powerful families too juicy for Chicago’s social pages to ignore.
