Sinful Bride (Belaya Bratva 3) - Page 82

I nodded and she quit the room, leaving me to my thoughts. Turning back to the mirror, I gazed at the necklace, vowing to myself that I would always remember what the rings meant to my mother-in-law. It looked perfect with the neckline of my gown as well, and I couldn’t wait to tell Gavril what had just transpired. He also had been worried about his mother’s acceptance of our true marriage.

The door opened once more and I smiled in the mirror as Ilsa burst in, her face red with exertion. “Sorry,” she said, fanning herself with her hand. “Pumping is a bitch.”

I laughed as she adjusted the neckline of her green gown, hers a deeper green to signify her matron of honor status. “Well, it’s better than you leaking milk all the way down the aisle.”

She shot me a glare. “You just wait. You will suffer through this agony as well in a few short months, and then I will have the last laugh.”

I grinned. Ilsa had given birth to a healthy baby boy a month ago, naming him Matteo Roman. I thought I had seen Roman be happy before, but when they placed the baby in his arms for the first time, nothing compared to the look on his face.

That and the tears that had followed. There was just something about a strong, powerful man bawling his eyes out at the first look of his son. I imagined that Gavril might do the same. In fact, Ilsa and I had a bet going that my husband was going to cry like a baby just like hers had. “I’m sorry that Roman couldn’t come.”

She waved a hand at me, coming over to fluff my curls. “Don’t worry about it. He told me he wouldn’t have come even if the invitation had been extended to him. Something about upholding his image and shit.” She placed her hands on my shoulders. “I’m just glad I’m here for this one.”

I turned and embraced her. “Me too.” My feelings were completely different from the first time I had wed Gavril. I was happy, beyond happy for this day. The wedding was going to be exactly what I had hoped for, surrounded by those that cared about us and a man whose only agenda was that he wanted to make me his partner for life.

“Well,” Ilsa finally said, dabbing at her eyes. “It’s time. Now, if you want to back out, I can have us at the island in less than two hours.”

I laughed and shook my head. “No, I think I’m really going to marry him.”

She smoothed down her hair. “I mean, I would too if you could see how he looks in his tux. Good Lord, he’s handsome, even if he’s supposed to be an enemy.”

My lower half tingled at the thought, knowing that later I would be stripping the tux off him as his wife, his legal wife. “Then why are you holding me up?”

Ilsa grinned, grabbing our bouquets from the table and handing me mine. “Honestly, I don’t know. I just am so glad you are happy, Naomi. You deserve it.”

We all did. Ilsa had found her happily ever after, and I was about to have mine.

Together we walked out of the room and down the hall toward the small pool I had chosen for our ceremony to take place. The reception would be on the terrace, and already I could smell the wonderful foods that would be served there.

God, I was hungry.

Pushing the thought aside, I found Gavril’s sisters ahead of us, with Inessa’s daughters ahead of them, acting as our flower girls for the ceremony. Our list had become quite small, inviting only a handful of the Bratva that Gavril had left and a few associates that he considered to be friends. Ilsa was there, of course, and the household staff had been asked to come, but that was it. I had no family to invite, and outside of Ilsa, no friends that I cared to have witness my special day.

It was perfect.

The doors opened and I watched as the wedding party filed out before me, feeling nervous for the first time since this morning. “You are going to be fine,” Ilsa said softly as she fussed over me. “Just think about Gavril naked.”

I let out a bark of laughter. “That’s not going to help,” I groaned. Per tradition, Gavril and I had been split up last night, with him and Oleg hanging out in the study and me and my bridal party enjoying movies in the movie theater in the basement. They wouldn’t even let us kiss last night, and I was itching to have my husband’s hands on me again.

Husband. He was going to be my husband in less than an hour in all eyes of the law. I was going to truly be Naomi Kirilenko.

Ilsa propelled me forward until we were the last ones left standing before going out. “Don’t fall into the pool,” she warned teasingly.

I straightened my shoulders, clutching my bouquet tightly in my hands. “I won’t. Go on; it’s your turn.”

My best friend winked at me before stepping out into the sunshine and I drew in a breath, waiting to hear the sound of the melody that Kira was playing. When the young girl had asked if she could play for us, I had told her yes immediately. They had been in large part what had kept Gavril from slipping too far to the dark side.

I smiled as I heard her song and stepped out into the sunlight, my eyes seeking and finally finding my husband. Ilsa was right. He was far too handsome for his own good, the tux fitting him perfectly in all the right places. I blushed as his eyes wandered down the length of my body as well, satisfaction shining in his eyes.

Now and forever more, I was going to be his.

Carefully, I made my way to him and came to stand before the priest, wanting desperately to reach out and touch Gavril to ensure that this wasn’t a dream at all. We had made it.

We were really going to do this.

“I love you,” I mouthed to him, tears crowding my eyes.

He just grinned, not saying anything, but he didn’t have to. I could see it written all over his face. Gavril Kirilenko loved me. I felt it every day in his touch, his words, the way he looked at me like I was his lifeline. I didn’t need the words to know that I had changed him for the better and that his feelings were true. Gone was the hard man who had stood before me a few months ago and forced me into this marriage.

Tags: Brook Wilder Belaya Bratva Romance
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