Lies of My Monster: A Dark Mafia Romance(80)

“Let’s do that.”

“We need two witnesses.”

Kirill taps something in his phone and a few seconds later, the door opens. I swallow thickly as Viktor strides inside then stops short upon seeing me.

My face must be different shades of red. Why did it have to be Viktor of all people? Yes, Kirill trusts him the most, but how am I supposed to react when he’s looking at me as if I’m a ghost?

“What’s the meaning of this?” Viktor asks, staring between us.

“I’m marrying, Sasha.” Kirill announces ever so casually. “Be a witness.”

“What the fuck—”

“Sit the fuck down and be a witness, Viktor.” Kirill orders with no patience whatsoever.

He narrows his eyes on me then settles beside the man who’s been watching the scene with careful quietness.

“Lipovsky, you little fuck,” Viktor continues grilling me with his gaze. “You’re a woman?”

“She obviously is, and watch your fucking tone when you speak to my wife.”

Butterflies erupt at the bottom of my stomach and spread throughout my body.

Kirill called me his wife.

His. Wife.

“I still don’t understand what’s going on,” Viktor continues. “I need an explanation.”

“Later. For now, shut it and be a witness.” Kirill turns to the man. “Proceed”

“We need another witness.”

“You can be one. Now, go.”

The older man nods. “Do you, Kirill Morozov, take Aleksandra Lipovsky—”

“Ivanova,” I whisper and stare at Kirill. “My name is Aleksandra Ivanova.”

If we’re going to get married, he needs to know my real name. We’re going to share our lives now, and that means trusting each other.

Kirill’s eyes don’t shine with recognition at hearing the last name, and that right there is proof that he had nothing to do with my family’s death.

Instead, he squeezes my hand in his. “You heard her. It’s Aleksandra Ivanova.”

“We will need an ID for that…”

“I’ll get it to you later. Continue.”

The man clears his throat. “Do you, Kirill Morozov, take Aleksandra Ivanova as your lawfully wedded wife, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

Kirill’s attention never leaves mine as he says with blinding assertiveness, “I do.”

I’m about to cry again. Damn it.

The man looks at me. “Do you, Aleksandra Ivanova, take Kirill Morozov as your lawfully wedded husband, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

I hold back the tears as I finally choose myself. “I do.”

Kirill’s eyes blaze in a deep, deep blue that nearly sweeps me under from the intensity. He lifts my hand and slips the band on my ring finger, then offers me his hand.

My movements are shaky as I do the same.

We then sign our names where the pastor or civil servant tells us to.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride…”

The man hasn’t even finished his words, but Kirill has already tugged me toward him by the nape and slams his mouth to mine.

He kisses me like he’s my husband.

And I’m his wife.

I’m Kirill’s wife.

I kiss him as passionately as he kisses me, matching his intensity with mine.

This time, I let the happy tears loose.





25





KIRILL





I have a wife.

And her name is Aleksandra Ivanova.

My perception of marriage was skewed from a young age due to Roman and Yulia’s toxic and excruciatingly incompatible pairing.

They taught me to loathe the idea of tying oneself to another person for life, which is why I’ve always viewed marriage as a possible business opportunity. Nothing more and nothing less.

However, those feelings have changed dramatically since I witnessed Sasha’s state following the news of my engagement to Kristina.

She was crying nonstop. I know because I have cameras here and I’m the only one with access. What made matters worse was how she was often looking for ways to escape me.

I didn’t expect much when I asked if she wanted to be my wife, but her reaction woke a foreign part of me. A poignant sense of possessiveness grabbed hold of me and still refuses to let go.

The room plunges into silence after Viktor escorts the civil servant out. Part because I can’t get enough of studying the woman standing in front of me, looking like the best present I’ve ever received.

Her cheeks are covered with a pink hue, and her lips are swollen from how savagely I kissed them just now.

It’s been a long time since she dressed as a woman, but she’s not in just any clothes now. She’s wearing a wedding dress to be my wife.

My. Fucking. Wife.

I bring out my phone. “Let’s take a picture.”

The man took a few of us before he left, but that’s still not enough. I want to keep this image of her forever.

Sasha nods and stands beside me. I pull her by the waist, and she yelps as I raise the phone and snap a few pictures of us. Then I kiss her and take more. She smiles against my mouth, and I can almost taste her happy tears from earlier.