Claim

The next three hours passed in a flurry of conversation and laughter. Nadia and Annie traded sexual innuendos as Kira opened packages filled with silk, lace, and satin underthings, some of which make Kira blush right along with Olga. Lana brought her youthful vigor to the party, intent on capturing the day with photos for her social media accounts, although Kira insisted no photos be taken showing the women’s faces.

Lana was part of a new generation of women who loved documenting every detail of their lives, and Lana was especially proficient at it, having built a cadre of celebrity and socialite friends, but most of the women around the table were from a generation with another mindset entirely.

Kira was only seven years older than Lana, but she’d been raised at her father’s knee to be discreet and had learned her lessons well, lessons that would serve her well as the pakhan’s wife.

There was even a gift from Julia Murphy. Kira had no idea how the other woman would have known about the shower or where to send a gift, and she was touched Julia had gone to the trouble, especially since their husbands were technically rivals.

By the time the brunch was over — plates cleared from their multicourse meal, piles of tissues and wrapping paper littering the room — Kira had made a decision: she would invite their friends to the wedding.

It ran counter to their original plan, which was to include them only in the pre-wedding dinner as cover for Ivan’s assassination. But Kira wanted them there. She and Lyon needed family. More than that, Kira wanted family, people with whom she could share the highs and lows of life, people she could count on and who could count on her in return.

With her own parents gone, Lyon’s father dead, and his mother a traitor, the people around this table and their spouses and parents and siblings would become Kira’s family. She would celebrate their victories and comfort them during their low points, and she wanted them to be included in her celebrations too.

Excitement fizzed in her stomach like champagne. The dinner before the wedding would be the first of many shared events. The next day, Kira would join herself to Lyon with a sincerity she hadn’t felt the day of their first wedding.

She couldn’t wait for the women surrounding her — women she’d grown to care deeply about — to be there.

The future was bright. They would build it together.