Page 83 of Depraved Royals
Mama is on her way out the door. “You try and tell him that,” she says. “He made more fuss when he had an ingrown toenail. Being shot in the shoulder is just a minor inconvenience.”
I smile to myself as I hear my father wolf-whistling at Mama and her admonishing him for his cheek. If Kal and I are even half as happy as my parents, I’ll consider that a win.
Pippa is back from Russia, and she and Vera are at my apartment with Kal. They make a good team, so I know Kal will be there in shined-up shoes and with his boutonniere on the right side. He doesn’t mind his solitude, but I couldn’t imagine him being alone on the morning of his wedding.
It was challenging to get him to agree to be away from me overnight. Ever since Idina attacked me, he’s stayed by my side, and it’s only recently that he’s loosening up a little. It helps that I’m over the morning sickness and eating properly, and he’s still doing all he can to take care of me.
My parents are already in the car. I run down the stairs and out the door, Mel hurling herself into the limo behind me.
Papa sighs when he sees me. “Dorogaya, I’m so proud. What a vision you are.” He taps his watch. “But what time do you call this?”
I shrug, and he rolls his eyes, handing me the flowers.
“The roads are gonna be awful,” Brutus says from the driver’s seat. “So it’s a good job you worked so much free time into your schedule.”
“Less sarcasm and more driving,” I say.
The snow is settling over the city. As we pass the south side of Central Park, it looks like the whole thing is tucked up under a soft white blanket.
The last time I saw snow like this, I was running late too. But I was trying to get away from Kal Antonov.
Now I’m running toward him.
Kal has had a lot to process since his mother died. With every week and month that passes, he’s ever more optimistic, and now that my belly is swelling, everything feels more real to him.
With that comes fear. He wants to be a good husband and father, but Idina’s voice still rings in his head, telling him he’s no good. A lifetime of psychological abuse cannot be undone just like that; it takes time and care.
I’m up to the task because I love him.
I love every scar and every wound, be they physical or mental. I can’t hate his struggles because they make him who he is. Instead of fighting the darkness, I encourage him to accept it as part of his personality’s complex tapestry.
My family is a help. Papa is there to guide him, and Mama is gentle and understanding. Kal is beginning to realize that he doesn’t have to let Idina live in his head, and Vera is getting there too. She’s living with Mel, and they’re becoming good friends.
The lights reflect on the wet sidewalk. The streets are packed with people getting their last-minute shopping done, meeting their family and friends, and making merry. So many happy people.
I look at my family sitting beside me. Mel is trying to tie a corsage around Mama’s wrist, but she’s struggling to make a neat bow.
“Melania, you are terrible at this,” Mama laughs. “You spent years styling those dolls of yours, and you can’t tie this properly?”
“Mama, it’s been at least fifteen years since I last did that!”
“I used to braid your hair for you,” Papa says. “Let me try.”
All three break into giggles as my father inevitably does an even worse job.
“Perfect!” he cries. “Look at that, Dani!”
I smile.
On Christmas Eve, surrounded by the joy of the season, I might be the happiest person in the world.
* * *
The chapel is small. With so few in attendance, we didn’t need much space.
A Bratva wedding is typically a big affair, but that’s because most of them aren’t proper weddings at all. Deals are brokered behind closed doors as the couple goes through the motions, trying to remember their duty.
Not so for Kal and me. We’re marrying for love, and that’s the beginning and end of the matter.