Prisoner (Russian Tattoos Book 2) (17 page)

The bedroom door flung open and Boris stood in the doorway with an exacerbated expression on his face. “Do you two ever quit?”

“
Izvinite, Papa
. She started it,” Vladimir teased.

I shoved him in the chest. “Vladimir!”

“Enough.” He tossed each of us a jacket. “Let’s take a walk.”

The dogs led the way down the path to Vladimir’s garden, and once we stepped inside the greenhouse, Boris pulled a thick manila envelope out of his coat and handed it to Vladimir. “Your wedding present.”

He opened it and flipped through a stack of papers. He questioned his
sovietnik
and engaged in a lengthy discussion about whatever it was Boris had gifted us. I understood by their terse, back and forth tone that they were arguing. Whatever information was in that envelope, Vladimir didn’t seem to be on board.

After an intense discussion, Vladimir relented and turned his attention to me. “How would you like to go on a honeymoon?”

I didn’t see that coming. “A real one? With you?”

Vladimir smiled. “Three days in the finest hotel in St. Petersburg. Boris has arranged everything.”

A honeymoon with my new husband sounded amazing, but there was more to the plan they weren’t telling me. “Just the two of us, right?”

“Of course, angel.”

“What about the Ovechkins? What’s the plan?”

Boris placed his hands on my shoulders to assert his dominance. “What happens to the Ovechkins is not your concern. The plan will be executed by my team. As Vladimir’s wife, you must learn not to question us about our business. All you need to do is survive the wedding and go to St. Petersburg to celebrate your nuptials. Leave everything else to me.” He patted my cheek. “Trust me, Carter. This will all work out.”

I glanced up at Vladimir to read his expression. His smile was forced, but I could tell he wanted me to jump on board. I had to stay out of their business, but they were both trying too hard to convince me this was a good idea. I got the sense that whatever they weren’t telling me was risky. They had come up with their plan to take down Maksim, but it was far from bulletproof.

I reached up and gave my future father-in-law a hug. “
Spasibo
, Papa. I know you’re against the idea of me staying, but I promise this will be a good thing for all of us.”

Boris sighed. “Take care of my son,
lapsha
. You mean everything to him.”

Chapter 24

Forever

On the morning of our wedding day, stylists fussed over my hair and makeup and every detail of my appearance. They plucked my eyebrows to perfection, polished my skin with a sugar scrub, and painted my toes. I also got a manicure complete with ridiculously long acrylic nails, and a team of assistants made sure I noshed on survival rations and water to sustain me until the reception. Vladimir was with the guys, laughing and having a blast in the next room while I was stuck with Anya, feeling a demoralizing sense of loneliness.

I needed my maid of honor. This getting ready stuff was all business—not a lick of fun. If Kiki had been in charge of running this show, she would’ve blasted a house party playlist, champagne would be flowing, and these prissy stylists would be barking at us to sit still and stop laughing so they could get their work done. It made me sick to think that while I was getting pampered and dolled up for my wedding day, my family was praying I was still alive.

I placed my fingers under my eyes to catch my tears before I destroyed my perfect makeup. Once we were married, I would talk to Vladimir about giving closure to my loved ones. He would understand and find a way to make it happen. I took a deep breath and willed away my tears. Today had to be about Vladimir and me. The wedding was the first day of our forever, and I wanted to make it special and memorable.

Once I was painted, polished, and pushed up in all the right places, I waited in my robe until it was time to put on my dress. Anya left the room, and Pasha seized the moment to pay me a visit. He cracked open my bedroom door and gestured for me to come to him. He had a devilish grin and I could tell he was up to something ornery. I suspected Vladimir had tasked him with breaking me out of my holding cell so I could see him before the ceremony.

I glanced at the clock. “It’s a little early for my grand entrance. What are you up to?”

“A Russian tradition. Trust me.”

“Okay, let me change.”

“
Nyet
. Come with me.” He guided me out of the bedroom and sat me down in a chair in the living room where Mari and Ruslana were waiting. They wrapped paper streamers around me, as if they were tying me up, and giggled as they worked. The girls cast a warm glow and brought joy to the family. I prayed they would never know the dangers of being associated with the
Bratva
and that Dmitri could get them to America.

Dmitri was not a high-ranking member of the organization and was treated more like a trusted employee than a member of their inner circle. He stood by the back door as if guarding his post, watching over us, but not interacting.

“Nice job, girls,” Pasha said. “Go get Papa and tell him he will need a steep ransom if he wants to buy his bride back.”

The girls ran off to Vladimir’s bedroom yelling, “Papa! Papa!
Dyadya
has Mama!”

Vladimir stepped out of the bedroom, shirtless, with an ornery grin on his face. I admired my fiancé’s tight abs and badass ink and lusted over his gorgeous body.
God, I can’t wait to get him alone.
He busted me checking him out and tossed me an arrogant wink. He had a shameless ego, and I loved it.

“Oh, no. My lovely bride
is being held captive,” Vladimir said in a melodramatic tone. “What is your ransom?”

“One billion rubles.” Pasha said. “No less for this American beauty.”

Boris, Anya, and Babushka must’ve heard the commotion and joined the party in the living room.

“Too much, boss. Not a good deal. Let him keep her,” Boris teased.

“
Nyet
, she’s perfect. I must have her back.” Vladimir reached into his pocket and rattled a handful of change. “I have four kopeks. Will that suffice?”

Everyone laughed and chided him in Russian.

Pasha lifted his hands and sighed dramatically. “I am willing to make a deal. To buy back your beautiful bride, I need something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. Have you these things?”

Babushka spoke and held something up.

“Ah, the family is going to help you out, Vova.” Pasha took the object from Babushka and raised it so everyone could see. It was a vintage barrette accented with diamonds and pearls. “Something old.”

My stylist rushed over and clipped Babushka’s treasure in my hair.

“
Spasibo
, Babushka.” I was surprised by her kindness toward me and thanked her with a smile.

“And I have something new for my dear sister.” He strolled over to me and revealed an elegant rose gold watch that held more diamonds than a deck of cards.

The attention and generosity the family was showering on me was humbling, and again I felt the pangs of guilt and loneliness that my family and friends were absent from my life. When Pasha leaned down and fastened the watch on my wrist, I smelled vodka on his breath. Had Vladimir had a drink with his family while they were getting ready?

“Anya has something for you to borrow,
lapsha
.” Boris held up a box and motioned for Pasha to deliver it.

Anya forced a tight-lipped smile. Knowing how much she despised me, I worried there might be a box of ticked off rattlesnakes coiled up and ready to strike. Pasha lifted the lid and revealed a lacy veil embellished with silky white flowers.

“It’s beautiful.
Spasibo
, Anya.”

She averted her eyes, unable to stomach doing something nice for me. I was sure it wasn’t her idea to be kind. Boris had probably coerced her into being decent to me on our wedding day. She may have hated my guts, but I pitied her. I couldn’t imagine what her life had been like married to Boris for over thirty years. Many of those years spent while he was locked away in prison, leaving her to hold the family together.

He had been in and out of prison his whole life, their family members were constantly in mortal danger, and Boris ruled his loved ones with an iron fist. I didn’t blame her for being leery of me. To her, I was a threat to her family’s safety and well-being.

“Okay, one last chance to pay your ransom. Have you anything blue?”

Vladimir grinned and held up a blue velvet box and everyone cheered for my hero. “Your groom has saved you, Carter. You are free to marry your beloved Vova.” Pasha freed me from my paper restraints and delivered me to my sexy groom.

Vladimir kissed me lightly on the lips, careful not to smear my lipstick. The taste of his breath was minty and clean—not a trace of alcohol. I was proud of him for resisting temptation, but also ashamed of myself for doubting him.

“Carter, this is a small token for you on our wedding day. Your beauty takes my breath away and your undying loyalty humbles me. I thank God for bringing us together.”

He opened the box and revealed a stunning blue diamond choker with a statement solitaire that belonged around the neck of a queen, or behind shatter-proof glass in a museum, but definitely not on
me
. “Oh, Vladimir. It’s stunning.”

He picked it up and clasped it around my neck.
“Ya lyublyu tebya.”

Amidst praise from the family, I stood speechless and admired the people who cherished Vladimir as much as I did. My choice to stay with him meant his family would become my family too—my
only
family.

Anya clapped loudly to get everyone’s attention. Being Nice to the Bride Hour was officially over. She sent the men back to Vladimir’s room and ushered me back to my cell so the stylists could add their finishing touches, and I could change into my gown. Ready or not, it was show time.

***

The back yard of Vladimir’s house had been transformed into a floral fantasyland with pastel flowers lining a white runner that led to an immaculate golden gazebo. Clear glass lanterns with flickering candles graced the walkway, and cascading, lacy sheers hung from the tree limbs and billowed in the wind.

Vladimir’s roses adorned an archway I would walk through for my grand entrance. I stood in the back beside Pasha, mesmerized by the scene more beautiful and romantic than I could’ve ever imagined—minus the heavily armed guards securing the perimeter with AK-47s and military-grade assault weapons.

Vladimir waited at the altar looking handsome, confident, and a tad mesmerized as he saw me for the first time in my wedding dress. The setting was surreal, like an idyllic fairytale, and I focused all my energy on the positive part of this experience, the love Vladimir and I shared. If our destiny was to live a long, happy life in Ekaterinburg, or if our forever would be cut short in a matter of hours, I would enjoy every second and be thankful for our time together.

A trio of violinists played a romantic melody as Ruslana and Mari padded down the aisle looking adorable in frilly pink dresses and stylish up dos with flowers tucked in their hair. They carried white baskets and scattered pink and red rose petals across the runner. Vladimir beamed as the girls made their way toward him. Mari took her job of flower girl seriously and was careful to spread out the flowers evenly. Ruslana was too busy checking out the scene to concentrate and dumped fistfuls of petals on the runner until her basket was empty.

When the path was blanketed with flowers, the musicians paused, then played “Here Comes the Bride.” We decided to blend our respective cultural traditions and make our day unique, while keeping with the religious traditions of the church. I proceeded down the aisle in my white dress, a long lacy train, and the beautiful veil from Anya covering my face.

People I’d never met smiled and wished me well on our way to the altar. A few guests blotted away tears and others patted Pasha on the back, seemingly as happy for him as they were for the groom. Pasha was a family man like his papa and was genuinely happy I was joining the family. He was a loving, genuine soul, and I was proud to call him my brother.

When we reached the altar, Vladimir took my hand and helped me up the stairs. “You take my breath away, sweetheart.” His eyes were bright and wet as he led me up the stairs to greet the Orthodox priest.

The musicians concluded the processional and the ceremony commenced. Anya, Babushka, and the girls sat in the front row, and Dmitri stood guard an arm’s length away from me at the foot of the stairs. The creepy bald guy with the patch I’d seen at the house yesterday stalked the grounds, surveying the guards, guests, and even Vladimir’s family. He must be a senior guy to have earned Boris’s trust.

Boris stood next to us in the gazebo. He had on an ornate white robe and assisted the priest as a deacon. Pasha joined the family and took a seat next to Babushka. Behind them, a line of guards had their backs. The family was safe, and I knew without question that Boris was packing an arsenal of heat under that robe. If anyone in attendance had a plan of taking out the
pakhan
, he would have to get past a small army of guards and Boris to take him down—and that was
not a survivable plan.

The priest addressed the guests, and everyone bowed their heads to join him in prayer. The ceremony proceeded with readings from the Bible, a blessing and exchanging of our rings, music and singing, and a religious ritual with ornate golden crowns joined by a white ribbon. Vladimir and I held hands while the priest placed the crowns on our heads. Then he took them off and swapped the crowns on our heads three times.

The tradition was endearing and symbolic of our new lives. The string that held the crowns together represented our connection to one another. Even when Vladimir and I were across the globe from one another, the distance never kept us apart. The road that had brought us together was wrought with landmines, deceit, and fear, but that was all behind us now. I forgave Vladimir for all the turmoil he brought to my life, and I accepted my own mistakes that contributed to our failed past. Nothing and no one could ever sever the tie that bound us together.

After the crowning, we took communion from a common cup, the priest gave us his blessing, and I thought our beautiful ceremony had concluded. But Vladimir grinned devilishly and addressed the congregation in Russian. Whatever he’d said made all the guests laugh. Even the stern-looking priest cracked a smile and stepped aside.

“What are you up to, boss?”

“I’m going off script, angel.”

I cracked up and shook my head. “Of course you are.”

He picked up my hands and gazed into my eyes. “A lifetime is not a sufficient amount of time to express my undying love for you. I am just a man, Carter, and I confess that it was your physical beauty that first attracted my attention.”

Pasha translated into the microphone for the non-English speaking crowd. “But, it is your inner beauty that captivates me. Your kindness, courage, and forgiving nature have combined to create the most desirable woman I have ever known.”

He squeezed my hands. “I may be a mere mortal compared to you, angel, but I promise to spend every moment showing you that you are the most important and cherished woman on this earth. You are my world, Carter, and I thank God for bringing us together. I will love and cherish you now and forever.” He glanced up at the priest, gesturing for him to continue.