Page 147 of Nemesis

“Well, we didn’t really talk about religion. I didn’t want to assume⁠—”

“No,” I interrupt. “Wrong inflection. Why did you KIDNAP a Russian Orthodox priest?”

Ivan cackles even harder beside us, having to wave his hands and turn around to get himself under control. “Sorry…I—” Another wheeze. “I need a minute.”

“Oh. Cause he’s gonna marry us,” she says, all matter-of-fact, rising up to her tiptoes to press a kiss to my cheek. Then she walks right past me, priest in tow, and stomps up the steps to the final plane.

Alex sighs so heavily, you’d think years were falling off his life. “All sons. Thank God for that,” he mutters to the sky, stalking up the steps after them.

She’s insane.

This woman is insane.

A stupid smile burns across my lips, blazing with joy.

I’m the last one up the steps, lost in the daze of confusion. Marry us.

She wants to marry me?

Me?

A flight attendant maneuvers behind me to shut the door, and then we’re moving. There’s not even time to sit before the jet jolts.

“This isn’t how it’s done,” our hostage finally cries out, glancing out the plane windows. “Your union will be cursed if you move forward like this!”

The wheels of the plane race against the tarmac as the nose lifts into the air, throwing Octavia’s hovering body off balance. One of my arms loops around her waist to hold her steady.

“That’s not very nice,” she says, glaring at the priest.

“You pulled me out of bed with a gun to my head!” he snaps, eyes widening.

I don’t particularly like his tone.

“You’ll be respectful to her.” I raise my brows at the old man in a blatant threat.

The plane shifts, riding out a wave of turbulence. Towering buildings shrink in the window before getting swallowed up by clouds.

“I’m the one at gunpoint!” the priest says, throwing up his arms. “She kidnapped me!”

“I thought you guys were already married,” Ivan comments unhelpfully from the seat up front, a glass of whiskey already sitting in his palm.

The poor flight attendant looks incredibly overwhelmed by the scene, but continues taking the group’s drink orders. I’m sure Solokov pays her a large sum for her discretion.

“Not quite,” Alex answers Ivan. “I’ll have a vodka, neat. Make it a double. In fact, why don’t you just leave the bottle, sweetheart?”

The flight attendant’s eyes widen a fraction before her chin dips in a nod.

“We’re as good as married,” Octavia says. “The only thing that’s missing is the stupid piece of paper telling the government he belongs to me.”

My heart thumps happily against my ribs.

“I think marriage is supposed to be more of a mutual agreement, malysh,” Alex says gently, as if reasoning with a wild animal.

“Exactly!” the priest exclaims. “This is ludicrous.”

Alright, I’ve heard enough.

My gun slides from the holster on my leg and swings into the air. “The next person who tries to dissuade her from marrying me is choking on their next breath.” I turn my head, lifting a brow at Octavia’s determined gaze. “Moya zlaya,” I say softly, this time only to her. “Are you not even going to give me the opportunity to propose?”