“Dante.”
“Si?”
“I love you.” She whispered the words, but as she spoke, the strength came back into her words. “I know I just threw it out there before because I was scared, but…it’s the truth. I really do love you.”
“I know,” he said. She gasped, and he laughed. “You would have killed me already if you didn’t. Ti amo, amata. I love you, too. Now, tell your people to stand down so this love story doesn’t end with a bullet.”
Sheer giddiness made her punch drunk. “It started with one.”
“No, it started long before that.” He paused. “I’ll see you soon, Rosa.”
Chapter 26
Dante arrived at the Romanov household after midnight, but it seemed every window was lit from within. He’d barely knocked on the door when Rose flung it open and threw herself into his arms. “D’yavol.”
“Amata.” He hugged her tightly, inhaling her rich scent and enjoying the feel of her in his arms again. This time, they wouldn’t be parted. He nudged her back and took in her green dress, tired eyes, and happy smile. “Are you sure?” Foolish of him to ask the question now, when poised right to get what he wanted most, but even more than marrying Rose, he didn’t want her to regret this.
Her smile widened. “I’m sure.”
Then there was nothing else to say. Not until they were truly alone. “Then take me to this priest.”
Things happened quickly after that. He barely got a look at the hulking Vasily before Rose hauled him into a lovely sitting room. Or it would have been lovely if it weren’t filled with murderous-looking Romanovs. Lorelei wasn’t present, but Rose’s other two sisters and parents were there, all staring at him with cold eyes that promised pain and death should he let down Rose.
He could have told them it was a nonissue. He was about to get exactly what he wanted. He would allow absolutely nothing to jeopardize it. And once Rose put his ring on her finger? He pressed his hand to his pocket. No one would touch her. He’d ensure it.
He squeezed Rose’s hand, and she shot him a happy smile. “Ready?”
“Si.” He’d never been readier for anything in his life. Everything had brought them to this point, and if there would be trials to come—and there would with Jovan Romanov breathing down their necks—then they’d face them together.
The door opened behind them, and an old Black man in priest’s clothing walked in, followed by a white woman in an ill-fitting suit. She held a folder in her hands and looked around. “Who’s the happy couple?”
Rose towed Dante to the woman. “It’s us.”
“I have paperwork for you to sign.” She set it down on the coffee table and started to explain the prenup.
“It’s fine,” Dante cut in. “Where do I sign?”
Rose shot him an exasperated look. “You should read it first. I might be demanding your kidney.”
“A small price to pay.”
She smiled but the expression fell away far too quickly. “Seriously, Dante. You should read it.
“It’s not necessary. We’re not getting divorced.” He took the pen and signed the page the woman indicated. Next was the paperwork to be filed to make the marriage legal. They were taking no chances tonight. He liked that. He didn’t think Rose would change her mind, not now that she admitted she loved him and had put herself on this course, but he would be lying if he said a part of him didn’t relax at the knowledge that this would be set in stone.
Rose shook her head but signed as well. “You’re so damn sure of everything.”
“Aren’t you?”
She smiled a little. “I don’t have to be sure of everything. I’m sure of you.”
The woman looked over the papers “Everything is finished. I’ll file these first thing in the morning.”
Dmitri Romanov nodded. “As soon as they’re filed, your debt is paid.”
The woman looked a little green as she nodded, her voice shaky. “It’s, uh, a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Romanov.”
“Vasily will show you out.”
As soon as she left the room, Dmitri motioned at the priest. “Your turn, Father Michael.”
Rose and Dante approached the priest together, holding hands, and it felt so fucking right. No one was handing this woman off to him. She’d chosen him of her own free will, against odds that had seemed insurmountable a few weeks ago. Dante had never doubted they’d end up exactly in this place, but he still felt almost drunk on the reality of it. As the priest began to speak while the Romanov family looked on, he couldn’t take his eyes off Rose’s face.
She looked tired and happy and more beautiful than ever.
She looked like his wife.
“The rings.”
He pulled the one out of his pocket. Rose frowned a little at the sight of the emerald. “You already have a ring?”
“Don’t you?”
She grinned. “Guilty.” She held up a thick silver ring. “I picked it up in a little after-hours shopping spree.”