Page 149 of Taken By My Grumpy Pakhan

I walked up to the stage, my back to the aisle because Nikolai said it was the way it should be.

I felt my heart stop when the orchestra began playing the classic entry tune for the bride.

Nikolai glanced at me. “I can’t believe she came. I told her to run.”

I ignored him, focusing on steadying my breathing till I caught a whiff of jasmine and vanilla.

Throwing Nikolai’s advice to the wind, I turned before she could reach out for me and felt what was left of the very little oxygen I’d been surviving on leave my lungs.

She was ethereal. More divine than I imagined, with angels jealous of her.

Leo walked her down the aisle, his eyes barely meeting mine, but when they got to the podium, he was able to sustain a few seconds of what I figured to be a warning look before handing his sister over to me.

Under different circumstances, I would’ve found space for a comment or two, but I was impressed by his ability to try to seem intimidating even when he knew he could barely touch me.

My relationship with him was hardly the best; I still catch a flinch whenever I get too close, but he’s her only family, and I intend to make it work, one way or another.

“Thank you,” I acknowledged him with a subtle nod, taking Genevieve’s hand.

“Hello, husband,” she smiled, wrapping her soft hands around mine.

I cleared my throat, choosing to smile back despite the incessant thudding of my heart. “You’re the most beautiful sight I’ve ever had the pleasure of beholding.”

Her lips slanted. “You never told me you were a poet.”

I held out my palm to her. “I’m only finding out myself.”

She joined me on the podium, and the minister began his ministrations.

Between trying not to gawk at her and failing repeatedly, I didn’t hear a word of whatever the minister had to say.

I couldn’t believe she thought she would look like a whale in the dress. It was absolutely beautiful, and her bump only added to the beauty of it.

It was finally time for the vows, and the officiant turned to me.

“Do you, Kazimir Ivanovich, take Genevieve Sinclair to be your lawfully wedded wife…”

The voice once again dulled into a distant sound as I looked at the woman who had walked into my life like a mistake I was never meant to survive.

And I answered without hesitation.

“I do.”

Her breath caught—it was a quiet sound, but I picked it up anyways.

The officiant turned to her.

“Do you, Genevieve Sinclair, take Kazimir Ivanovich to be your lawfully wedded husband. To love and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

She didn’t look away from me.

“I do,” she said.

I felt my chest deflate as she smiled.

I slid the ring onto her finger, watching her face as the metal settled perfectly in place.

She picked up the gold band she had picked out for me and proceeded to slip it onto my finger, and only then did I whisper the part of the vow I felt the minister missed.