Page 64 of His Perfect Lie

"It wasn't a criminal enterprise. It was justice."

"It was a phone call that's going to make you late to your own wedding." She takes my shoulders and physically turns me back toward the mirror, forcing me to look at my reflection. "Look at yourself. You're beautiful. You're about to marry a man who loves you more than life itself. Can you please, for one hour, stop being a Mafia Donna and just be a bride?"

I catch her wry grin in the mirror as I'm responding.

"I can be both," I tell Inessa, and she rolls her eyes but doesn't argue.

Noemi appears in the doorway, bright with excitement. "It's time. The quartet's started the processional."

My heart kicks against my ribs, a sudden flutter of nerves as I think of the man waiting for me at the end of that aisle. Kidnapper turned lover, and now he'll be my husband. What a strange story we have, but Lev is everything I could ever have hoped for in a spouse.

The anteroom is quiet when I step through the door and see my parents rising from their seats with matching expressions of pride. My mother's wearing the blue dress we picked out together last month, and my father looks distinguished in a suit I suspect Lev paid for, though neither of them would ever admit it.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart," my mother says, and I hear a tremor in her tone.

"Don't start crying again," I warn her. "You'll set me off and then Inessa will have to redo my makeup."

"I'm fine." She dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief that appears from nowhere. "I'm just… emotional."

My father takes my arm and pats my hand with the gentle reassurance he's been offering since I was a little girl afraid of thunderstorms. "Ready?" He wraps my fingers around his bicep as he smiles at me, and even his eyes are sparkling.

"I think so."

The cathedral doors open and the music swells, that familiar processional that has accompanied countless brides down this aisle for centuries. I can see the guests rising from their seats, turning to watch as we step through the entrance—Gravitch family members on the left, my own scattered relatives and friends on the right, all of them here to witness my marriage.

We walk slowly down the aisle with my mother guiding my train as my father escorts me. Eyes lock on mine as I see faces I don’t recognize and those I do mingled together. And at the end of it all, waiting patiently at the altar with his hands clasped and his eyes fixed on mine, is Lev.

He's fully healed now, the wound that nearly killed him nothing more than a scar hidden beneath his perfectly tailored tux. His dark hair is swept back from his face and his jaw is clean-shaven, and he's looking at me with an expression that makes my breath catch in my throat. We've both been waiting for this moment for a long time, and it feels surreal to know it's here now.

My father places my hand in Lev's, and the warmth of his palm against mine feels like coming home after a long and difficult journey. My mother steps back to take her seat, dabbing at her eyes again, and then it's just the two of us standing by the priest with our fingers intertwined.

The ceremony passes in a blur of prayers and readings and rituals. When it comes time for the vows, Lev turns to face me fully, his hands taking both of mine.

"Vivika," he struggles out, and I swear I see tears in his eyes. "I promise to stand beside you," he continues, "in the darkness and the light. When the work is hard and the enemies are many. I promise to love you exactly as you are—the woman you've always been." I laugh through my tears, squeezing his hands. "I promise," he continues, "to spend the rest of my life earning the love you've given me. Because I know I don't deserve it. But I'm too selfish to give it back."

The priest looks at me, and I realize it's my turn so with a shaky voice, I do my best to hold myself together while I say my own vows.

"Lev, you saw something in me that I couldn't see in myself. You pushed me to be stronger, braver, fiercer than I ever thought possible. You trusted me with your family and your heart." I squeeze his hands. "I promise to honor that trust. To stand beside you in the fight. To love you in the darkness and the light, through blood and fire and everything this life throws at us."

I reach up and touch his face, my thumb tracing the line of his cheekbone.

"I promise to be your partner. Your equal. Your wife. For as long as we both have breath."

I know the priest says things after that. It's the way a wedding goes, right? But I'm so lost in the expression on Lev's face as he stares down at me that I lose all track of time until he leans forward to kiss me at the priest's command. His lips are tenderand soft, but full of hunger, and when he pulls away, I whimper. I want to experience the magic of this moment for longer.

"Hello, Wife," he murmurs, and I smile at him as I rise up to peck him one more time on the lips.

Then we turn to face the congregation together, his hand clasped firmly in mine, and I see our future stretching out before us. It won't be easy. It won't be safe. There will be enemies to fight and networks to dismantle and a lifetime of work still ahead of us.

But we'll face it together.

As husband and wife.

The string quartet begins to play the recessional and we walk back down the aisle together, past the smiling faces and those throwing handfuls of rice and the ancient stone walls that have witnessed centuries of beginnings just like this one. My parents are crying. Inessa's crying. Even Yuri looks suspiciously misty-eyed as we pass.

And I'm laughing, holding tight to the hand of the man I love, walking into the future with my head held high and my heart full of hope.

This is my life now. This is our life.

And it's only just beginning.