Total silence. I’m not sure what I feel, but something tingles in my fingertips and my toes. Maxim’s mother looks at me and she’s smiling, and even Feliks seems relieved. I can feel Maxim’s anger—his father is basically sending us away as a punishment—but it’s not the same cold fury, more of a resigned acceptance that Damir Novalov will always have some control over him, so long as the man is still the Pakhan of the bratva.
Maxim turns from his father. I bite my lip as Maxim walks to me with dark, smoldering eyes. Somehow his permafrost blue stare turns liquid and fiery, like he wants to burn a scorched trench down my body. He walks to me and takes my left hand between his as he drops to one knee and digs something out of his pocket.
“What are you doing?” I ask. Everyone’s staring at me. Maxim’s mother covers her mouth with her hands, her eyes twinkling with joy. Jasha’s grinning madly, and Feliks seems like he might pass out. Even Maxim’s father has a satisfied frown on his lips, like he wants to smile but forgot how.
“I love you, Siena,” Maxim says and his voice fills my ears like thunder. He’s got something clutched in his left hand as he holds my fingers with his right. “I’ve loved you since the first night we met. You’re in my head and my heart, and I won’t let you go, not for anything. My father can order me to marry you all he likes, but that doesn’t bother me one bit, because I’ve been carrying this ring for a while now.”
“Ring?”
And there it is—big diamonds and gold and, my god, it’s so beautiful my breath catches in my throat. I’ve never seen anything like it before. He holds it in the air and looks into my eyes.
“Siena, will you marry me?”
I nearly fall over. The words hit me like a train and I struggle to breathe. Marry him? Really marry him? This is real and really happening. I knew from the moment he took me away from my father that this was supposed to be the end result, but it never hit home. It never seemed like it would truly happen. I didn’t want it back then. I thought marrying Maxim would be a death sentence.
Now I know it’s more like being born again.
He’s kneeling and the ring’s right there, and I don’t know how to make my mouth work.
“Uh,” I say.
“Siena. Marry me.”
“Yes. Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you!”
Maxim’s mother gasps. Jasha laughs loudly as Maxim slides the ring down my finger. I feel like I might faint, but Maxim stands, wraps me in his arms, hugs me tight, and kisses me.
The kiss lasts forever. It’s an eternity. It’s a second lifetime. It wipes away so much pain and misery and gives me hope for the future—real hope for the first time in my life.
We’re going to be together, and nothing will stop it.
“I hope you don’t mind the cold, princess,” he whispers in my ear.
“Cold? What cold? I don’t think I can ever get cold with you around.”
Chapter 32
Siena
Six Months Later
“Oh my god, I hate the fucking cold,” I say as I stomp down the street with Emiliya and Galina. They float along like Russian aristocracy, seemingly unconcerned about the sub-freezing temperatures or the crowds of annoyed people parting around them, cursing in Russian. In the last six months, I’ve learned more curses in more languages than I ever imagined I’d know.
“You’ll get used to it,” Emiliya says, slowing to slip her hand through my arm and hugging me tight. “Come on, sister. It’s not so bad.”
“I’ve been here for months and I still hate it.”
“You’ve got our brother to keep you warm, while poor Galina and I have nothing.” She sighs and puts a hand to her forehead. “Woe is me.”
“Oh, relax,” I say, nudging her. “First of all, it’s gross to talk about your brother that way. And second, I’m pretty sure half the men in Moscow want you.”
“And the other half want Galina,” Emiliya says, nodding. “That’s true. And yet here I am, still so lonely.”
“Cheer up. You’re going back to Dallas soon.”
“Yes, yes, we are.” She nuzzles against my neck. For a cold-hearted Russian bratva princess, she’s surprisingly gentle and affectionate. I don’t know if I would’ve survived Moscow without her and Galina to show me around.
Maxim’s been so busy. He’s earning his way back into his father’s good graces, slowly but surely. He thinks we’ll be okay when we get back to the States in another six months, especially since Enzo has been doing a stellar job running the Bastone family business. Apparently, money is flowing from the houses like a river of gold, and Damir’s thrilled about the whole arrangement. That takes a lot of pressure off Maxim.