Page 137 of Gilded in Blood

“A little.”

A grin spreads across his face. “Don’t worry.” He smooths an imaginary crease from my jacket. “She’s not going to run.”

I snort. “I know that.”

“So stop looking like you’re about to walk into a firing squad.”

I turn to face him. “Were you nervous?”

He opens his mouth. Then I remember. A smirk tugs at my lips. “Of course, you didn’t have to be. You were forcing Calina to marry you.”

Maxim throws his head back and laughs. “I swear, no one in this family is ever going to let that go, are they?”

“Probably not.”

His laughter fades into a fond smile. “I was nervous.”

That surprises me. “Were you?”

He nods. “I know it looked like I gave her no choice.”

His expression grows thoughtful.

“But the truth is, I already knew that it was never going to stay a marriage on paper like I had intended.”

A small smile appears on his face. “The moment I met Calina, every plan I’d made fell apart.”

There’s a sincerity in his voice that makes me think about Milana. About how impossible it is to picture my own future without her in it.

A knock sounds against the door, Mikhail and Artyom walk in holding their kids.

Mikhail whistles low. “Damn.” He looks me up and down. “You clean up nice.”

Artyom scowls at me. I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. For the last six months, he’s threatened to shoot me, bury me, and remove various parts of my anatomy if I ever hurt his sister.

At this point, I’m fairly certain another threat is coming. The funny part is that one minute he’s threatening my life, and the next he’s welcoming me into the family. It’s become our strange version of bonding.

He steps closer until we’re standing face-to-face. “If you ever make my sister cry…” His voice drops. “If you ever hurt her, I don’t care if it’s ten years from now or fifty…”

“You’ll put a bullet in me,” I finish for him, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “I know. You can save the speech.”

I’ll never do anything to hurt Milana. Not while I still have breath in my body.

Before the conversation can go any further, another knock sounds at the door. The wedding planner pokes her head inside, smiling warmly.

“Gentlemen.” Her eyes land on me. “It’s time.”

The cathedral is already full by the time I take my place at the altar.

Sunlight streams through the towering stained-glass windows, painting ribbons of crimson, sapphire, and gold across the polished marble floor.

Hundreds of white roses line the aisle, their fragrance drifting through the air, while countless candles flicker softly beneath the vaulted ceiling.

Family fills the front pews. Behind them sit close friends, business associates, men I’ve worked beside for years, and people who’ve traveled across continents to witness this day.

The low murmur of conversation echoes through the cathedral before gradually fading into silence as the first notes of the organ fill the cathedral.

“Here Comes the Bride.”