RAZE
Bonus Scene
Luka and Kisa’s Wedding
Kisa
It wasn’t like I’d always dreamed it would be. It wasn’t the picturesque fairytale wedding I’d pictured as a child … but that didn’t make it any less perfect.
My wedding. The day I’d been waiting for all my life. The day I showed devotion to my soul mate … the man I was destined to love for eternity, in front of God and our families.
My heart fluttered, and butterflies danced in my stomach with the surreal acknowledgement that today I become Mrs. Tolstoi.
Mrs. Luka Tolstoi …
As I closed my eyes and savored that sound in my head, a slow smile spread on my lips. Taking my one true love’s name was my ultimate wish, a name I would forever wear with pride.…
Kisa-Anna Tolstoi …
I knew that for most, personal ambitions were filled with quests for success in their chosen fields of work, with striving to become a “someone” in this world, achieving that “something” that cemented them in the history books forever as a legend. But for me, I had only ever had one goal, one wish that I prayed would manifest into reality. That I would marry the boy who had stolen my heart from birth. The man that I’d thought I’d lost for twelve years, grieved for in every waking hour and accepted I had lost forever, only to have him thrust back into my life like a thunderstorm, his presence and fire bringing with him an awakening, rescuing me from the suffocating darkness my world had become.
He was it for me … lyubov moya… my love.
Wiping away a stray tear that had escaped my eye, I stared at my reflection, and had to take a slow and controlled deep breath. My hands were subtly shaking as they lay by my side, my blue eyes were glittering brightly under the soft swoop of brown eye shadow and the gentle dusting of black mascara.
It was happening.
It was all really happening … my wish fulfilled.…
I was dressed in a white fitted lace slim-line Vera Wang gown my father had had custom-made—only the best for the only child of the New York City Russian Bratva Pakhan. My long brown hair was swept up in a low bun, a diamond-encrusted Tiffany’s hair ornament—another gift from my father—curling delicately around my up-do.
I looked every inch the perfect Bratva Princess.
A double knock rapped on my bedroom door. “Come in,” I shouted, never taking my eyes from my reflection. The door creaked open and heavy assured footsteps approached from behind. My papa came into view, looking so handsome in his black tailored tuxedo, his salt-and-pepper hair pristinely combed back from his stern Eastern European face.
“Kisa…” my papa murmured as I met his eyes in the mirror’s glass. I watched, frozen in shock, as my emotionally cold and guarded papa’s eyes filled with tears and his voice hitched in his throat. “You look … you look beautiful, Kisa … like an angel.…”
“Papa,” I whispered, emotion stealing my words and turned to face him. Reaching down, I took his rough hand within mine and lifted my other hand to wipe away the tears tumbling down his cheeks. “I love you, Papa,” I added and his head bowed.
He inhaled a long breath and his hand squeezed mine tighter. “Your mama … she would have loved to have seen you today … like this … marrying your Luka … finally … after everything you’ve both been through.…”
My stomach clenched. “Papa…” I cried and wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek to his broad chest. Papa’s hand cupped the back of my head, being careful not to mess up my hair.
“You’re a good daughter, Kisa,” he rasped out and I cast a watery smile against his black jacket, “A good girl who’s only ever done her duty. Everything I’ve ever asked of you. I … I love you, my girl.” My papa wasn’t good with affection, and I knew it had taken him a great deal to express that sentiment. He was a formidable Pakhan—tough, fair, always intimidating. But I knew I was his weakness, his one area of vulnerability. Even if he never expressed this to me, I knew it to be true.
“I love you too, Papa … so much…”
The sound of a throat clearing came from the doorway, breaking this rare and sentimental moment. Pulling back from my father, I looked over his shoulder to see my one bridesmaid, Talia, my best friend and Luka’s only sister, standing in her lilac floor-length bridesmaid dress. Her long blond hair flowed down and cascading over her shoulder. She was smiling as she witnessed me in my father’s embrace and, catching my eye, held up my bridal bouquet.
My papa, glancing back to see Talia in the doorway, released a soft sigh, leaned down, and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be waiting outside to ride with you to church.” He hesitated long enough to squeeze me tighter one last time, then, adorning his Pakhan mask once more, swiftly exited my bedroom.
On hearing my bedroom door close, Talia’s lips spread into a wide smile. Carefully placing the bouquets on my bed, she ran at me, crushing me in her arms. “Kisa!” she squealed and pushed me back, her deep brown eyes scanning my body, “You look incredible! So perfect!”
“Thank you,” I said on a laugh, “you look beautiful, too. Then again, you always do.”
Talia shook her head, dismissing my comment, and stepped backward. “I can’t believe this day is finally here. You, my best friend, marrying my big brother.…” A soft expression flitted across her face. “You’ll officially become my sister in just over an hour. I’m just so happy I could burst!”
Smiling wide, my gaze dropped to the soft carpet beneath my feet. But my smile quickly faded as I pictured Luka on his own this morning … without me by his side.
“How is he? I left this morning before he awoke … I didn’t want him to see me on the morning of our wedding. I wanted to keep some semblance of traditionalism … for my papa’s sake.”
Talia was silent until I looked up. Her round brown eyes were sympathetic and tense. She shrugged. “He’s holding up. Once we calmed him down after he woke alone without you, he … he’s trying his damnedest to hold it all together until we reach the church and he can be with you again, Kisa.”
My stomach flipped at her response and my heart began to race. Luka didn’t do well without me by his side, not even for a few hours. He was still confused, tormented and riddled with flashes of fragmented memories from his past … only being with me gave him any rest from the guilt of his many kills. Only I could pacify the ever-present monster inside his head.
Lifting the hem of my dress, I set to walk toward the door. “Maybe I should go and—”
Talia stepped forward and gripped my hands, cutting off my sentence. “No.”
I closed my eyes and sighed. All I could see in my mind’s eye was a frantic Luka, pacing the floor of his childhood bedroom, his fingers gripping his hair, fighting his demons alone … his beautiful face riddled with the pain of his past and his breathing becoming erratic. I couldn’t stand it. “But—”
“But nothing. Mama and Papa are with him. You’re about to leave for church. He’s safe. You’ll be together again soon.”
I nodded in defeat and Talia’s tense shoulders relaxed. A gentle hand rubbed at my arm. “This is your special day, Kisa. After today you and Luka are together forever. My brother can cope for another hour before he sees you. He has to learn to bear his past without you being there to soothe him. He has to find his own way eventually. He begins his Pakhan training soon, and you won’t be with him for that. This time apart is a good thing.”
I didn’t agree with her. Luka and I shared something deeper than anyone could ever understand, but I knew, right now, I didn’t really have a choice. And what our families failed to realize was that it wasn’t just Luka who struggled alone. After thinking I had lost him for over a decade, and being subject to Alik Durov’s severe brutality since I was a teen, being beside my Luka, touching him, joined with him, was the only time I felt truly safe … like I was complete.
Talia released my hands and walked to my closet, taking the long lace veil that delicately draped over the closet door in her arms. After carefully placing it over my head, Talia stepped back, her bottom lip quivering as she regarded me. “Luka will be floored when you arrive at his side. You’re beyond beautiful.”
A rush of elation soared through me. “You think so? You think he’ll like how I look?”
Talia laughed at my question, rolled her eyes and picked up the bouquets. “I know so. You could be wearing a hessian sack and that brother of mine would think you were a heaven-sent vision!” Her eyes glossed over. “The way he looks at you … like nothing else matters to him but you.…” She shook her head and snapped herself around.
I watched as my best friend, looking so stunning in her fitted gown, got my things together. She was so beautiful, so ready for love …
Talia, feeling my stare, glanced my way and frowned. “What?”
“I want for you what I have with Luka,” I looked up at her through my lashes and added, “I don’t want you to be lonely anymore. I want you to be as happy as I am.”
A flash of pain seemed to cross Talia’s face and she batted her hand in the air. “I’m fine, girl. Plus, I’d have to get out from under the Bratva’s iron fist first. You were lucky you had my brother since birth and he was already a huge part of this life. Where me? How the hell do you find a date in this city when your papa and brother are two of the most feared men in the state and the byki follow you everywhere you go?”
“He’s out there, you know,” I said, believing my every word. “Your true love, your forever, he’s out there just waiting to be sent to you. God is simply waiting for the right time to push him your way.”
Talia’s brown eyes glistened at my words, her throat swallowing hard to mask her reaction. Lifting the bridal bouquet of lavender roses and ivory lilies, Talia walked toward me, handing me the delicate spray of flowers. “It’s time to go, Kisa. It’s time for your dream to at long last come true.”
Unable to speak, I nodded my head followed my best friend, my future sister, out to the awaiting town car. The day was bright and the cold air caressed my hot face …
It was the most perfect of days.