Page 172 of The Billionaire's Baby
After Arpad walks into the room, Edward shuts the doors behind them.
Isla hands my bridal bouquet over to me. She walks around to stand between us and the door, then turns, "You ready, Karina?"
I nod, grip my brother's arm. This is it. I am doing it now.
She pushes open the door and walks forward. We wait until she reaches the end of the short aisle. She slips into a chair by the front row, then it's our turn.
Niko places his wide palm over mine. "You look beautiful, Kaykay." He smiles down at me. "You know Dad would have made it, except it's too risky for him to be seen in the open."
I nod. "I am glad you are here."
Then we're walking forward, down the aisle. I glance around at the faces of my friends, my made family, who are as important, if not more so, than my blood family. A tingle runs up my back. I glance up and my gaze connects with his blue-grey ones, and the rest of the room fades. I am aware of putting one foot in front of the other, of covering the distance between us, of stopping in front of him, of Niko placing my hand back where it belongs, in his wide warm one.
He twines his fingers with mine, the warmth in his eyes setting shivers of anticipation, of something else, excitement, contentment, all of it intertwined into a ball of happiness; of being exactly where I want to be in that moment; of seeing my entire future stretched out in front of me; of reaching forward and grabbing it and holding on and allowing it to sweep me away until there is no me, no him... There is only us.
"I do." His lips form the words. His eyes crinkle. He slips his hand into his pocket and pulls out a ring.
He reaches for my left hand when I realize I am still clutching the bouquet. Oh! I glance around, and Ava jumps up. "Here, I'll take it." She closes the distance between us and I hand the bouquet over to her before turning back to my bridegroom.
Arpad takes my left hand and slides the ring onto my finger—a band of plain gold, with a single blue sapphire embedded in it. The metal is worn and instantly warms my skin.
"It's grandmama's," he says, "she wanted you to have it."
Tears prick my eyes as I hold onto his hands. Then I'm raising my gaze to his.
"I do too," I whisper, as a teardrop slides down my cheek.
"You may now kiss the bride." Barely has the registrar spoken, when we both move. I raise my head, he swoops down, and we meet somewhere in the middle.
Epilogue
Karina
I glance across the bedroom of Arpad's yacht. After the wedding, we'd spent the rest of the morning at a very boozy brunch with the Seven and their women at the Michelin starred restaurant of the Dorchester Hotel. It is the hottest restaurant in London and Saint had shut it down for our wedding reception. Imagine that.
Nothing should surprise me. Not after the life I've led so far. Not after the excesses that I've known the Bratva to indulge in... But the Seven... They are so matter-of-fact about the position they occupy on the food chain... Sometimes it takes my breath away; and that's saying something. And... Okay, it isn't about the money.
When I’d left my family behind in LA, I'd turned my back on the kind of extremes that money brings with it... I'd wanted to carve out my own life, create my own career, my own family. I'd been ready to go so far as to have a child on my own and bring him or her up by myself so I didn't have to depend on anyone else. Then Arpad happened.
It’s not just his good looks, or his more dominant than anyone else personality, or the fact that he'd do anything for the Seven, or how he'd been with his grandmother, caring and protective and so authentic...that had appealed to me.
Okay, maybe it was all of that... And that space inside of him... That hurt, that anger against the world he carries inside and which resonates with the part of me that still blames the universe for taking my mother away from me when I barely an adult.
Maybe I see him as much of a challenge as he sees me as a provocation.
Maybe, on some level, I see him as someone who is strong enough to dominate me; someone who can claim me and rule over me with a firm hand; someone who will take away the onus to choose, the anxiety of making decisions... Something I'd never known I craved until I met him.
My husband who prowls over to where I stand.
The boozy brunch had gotten progressively boozier and noisier, with the rest of the Seven and their women not able to keep their hands off each other as well.
In the middle of it all, Ari had grabbed my hand, and pulled me to my feet. Good thing I'd had the foresight to change out of my wedding dress at some point during the morning, for he'd literally whisked me off to his car and driven us over to his yacht, where he intended to consummate our marriage. He'd also told me that we were setting sail for Malta and then Greece for our honeymoon. As for clothes and my things? He'd produced our packed suitcases from the boot of the car. Someone had been busy shooting off text messages to get everything organized during the course of the morning. Something I swear I hadn't noticed.
Now he pauses in front of me and peers into my face. "There's one more thing I need to do." He slips his hand into his pocket, brings out a short piece of rope.
He presses the rope into the palm of my hand. "I want you to have it," he says. "I want you to have it when you think you're ready to use it on me."
"On you?" I blink. "You want me to use it on you?"
