Page 105 of Lethal Devotion
"He loves you," Valentina says simply, meeting my eyes in the mirror. "I've never seen him like this. Happy. At peace."
She's right. The change in Damian has been remarkable. The hard edges are still there—I don't think they'll ever completely disappear—but there's a softness now, a contentment that radiates from him when he looks at Adam and me. He's still the most dangerous man I've ever met, but he's also become the most devoted husband and father I could have imagined.
A soft knock at the door interrupts my thoughts, and Adam peeks his head in, looking absolutely adorable in his tiny black tuxedo. He's taken his role as ring bearer very seriously, as I can see when he walks in, clutching the small velvet pillow like it contains the crown jewels.
"Mama, you look like a princess!" he gasps, his green eyes wide with wonder.
"Thank you, baby." I kneel down carefully, mindful of my dress, and cup his face in my hands. "Are you ready to help Mama and Damian get married?"
He nods solemnly. "Damian said I'm the most important person in the whole wedding because I have the rings."
"That's right," I assure him. "You're the most important person."
Another knock, and this time it's Konstantin in the doorway, looking handsome in his own black tuxedo. "Ladies, it's time."
My stomach flutters with nerves and excitement. Through the window, I can see the gardens transformed into something out of a fairy tale. White roses and baby's breath cover every surface, with strands of fairy lights twinkling in the late afternoon sun. Chairs arranged in perfect rows are filled with the small group of people who matter most to us—some of Konstantin's men and their wives, the estate staff who've become like family, and a few of the girls from the club that I’ve missed enough to want to try to reconnect with them again.
"Is he nervous?" I ask Konstantin, suddenly needing to know.
Konstantin chuckles. "Terrified. He's been pacing for the past hour, asking if you've changed your mind."
The idea that Damian is nervous about our wedding makes my heart flutter with love. "Never," I say firmly. "I would never change my mind."
"That's what I told him." Konstantin offers me his arm. "Shall we go put him out of his misery?"
I take a deep breath, smoothing my hands over my dress one last time. "Let's do this."
The walk through the estate feels like a dream. Staff members peek out from doorways with warm smiles, and I can hear the soft sounds of the string quartet Damian insisted on hiring. When we reach the French doors that lead to the garden, I pause, suddenly overwhelmed by the moment.
This is it. This is myrealwedding, the one I got to choose, the one that's about love instead of survival.
"Ready, Mama?" Adam asks, tugging on my hand.
I smile down at him, giving him a gentle nudge to walk out in front of me. "Ready, sweetheart."
The doors open, and the first person I see is Damian.
He's standing under a rose-covered archway, hands clasped behind his back, looking devastating in his perfectly tailored blacktuxedo. But it's his face that makes my heart stutter—the raw emotion written across his features as he sees me. His usual composure cracks completely, and I see his throat work as he swallows hard.
The music begins, something classical and beautiful that he chose, and suddenly I'm walking down the aisle toward the man I love. The guests rise, but I barely notice them. All I can see is Damian, the way his dark blue eyes never leave mine, the slight tremor in his mouth that tells me he's as affected by this moment as I am.
Adam walks in front of me, taking his job very seriously, and I can see several people in the audience smile at his concentrated expression. When we reach the altar, he scampers over to take his place next to Damian, who ruffles his hair affectionately.
"You look beautiful,dikaya koshka," Damian murmurs softly as I take his hands, his Russian accent roughening the endearment, as it always does. I’ll never get tired of hearing it.
"You clean up pretty well yourself," I whisper back, making him smile.
Konstantin takes his place as the officiant—we didn’t need a minister, since we’re legally already married—and begins a prepared speech about love and commitment and how we got here. But I'm only half listening, lost in Damian's eyes, in the way his thumbs trace gentle circles over my knuckles.
"The couple has chosen to write their own vows," Konstantin announces. "Damian?"
Damian clears his throat, and I can see him gathering his courage. Public displays of emotion don't come naturally to him, but he's here, in front of all these people, ready to bare his heart for me.
"Sienna," he begins, his voice rough with emotion. "Four months ago, I married you because I thought it was the only way to keep you safe. I told myself it was temporary, that I could protect you without getting involved, without caring."
He pauses, his grip on my hands tightening.
"I was wrong about everything. You didn't need me to save you—you saved me. You saw past everything I thought I was, everything Iwas afraid of, and you loved me anyway. You gave me a family I never thought I deserved, and you made me believe I could be the man you see when you look at me."
