Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“What?” There’s a moment of stunned silence. “To Abigail?”
“Yes.” I grin from ear to fucking ear. “She’s the one.”
“Damn, brother.” I hear the happiness in my best friend’s voice. “That’s great. When’s the wedding?”
“This Sunday. Please tell me you can get the day off. I’ll send the private jet for you.”
“Let me speak to Mr. DuBois. I’m sure one of the other guards can babysit Cami for the day.”
I clear my throat. “I’m asking my father to be my best man. You understand, right?”
“Of course. I’m just fucking happy you met the love of your life. You deserve it, Nikolai.”
Emotion washes over me. “It means a lot coming from you.”
“Listen, I have to go, but I’ll be in touch regarding Sunday. What time is the wedding?”
“Ten in the morning.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to you soon.”
We end the call, and tucking my phone in my pocket, I call out, “Baby, I’m heading over to my parents' place. I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Okay,” she answers absentmindedly from where she’s lost in her painting.
I leave our home and walk toward the main house, my mind going over all the arrangements for the wedding ceremony. I want it to be nothing short of perfect for Abigail.
My phone starts to ring, and pulling the device out of my pocket, I see Emilio Sartori’s name flashing on the screen.
Fucking bastard.
“What do you want?” I answer, unable not to growl.
“I received the invitation to the wedding,” the asshole mutters. “You’re not wasting any time putting a ring on my daughter’s finger, are you?”
I suck in a deep breath to keep calm, not wanting to give the fucker the satisfaction of knowing he’s upsetting me.
“My wife and I won’t be attending,” he informs me.
Just like I thought, he’s too fucking cowardly to meet me on my turf. It’s the only reason I sent the invitation.
“There’s no way I’m setting foot on the Vetrov island,” he sneers. “I’m not that fucking stupid.”
I let out a chuckle. “I’m sorry to say you won’t be missed.”
“I’ll arrange an extravagant celebration here in Italy where all the mafia and bratva families can witness the union of our two families.”
I let out an overly patient sigh, “Yeah, I’m sure you can’t wait to flaunt that you’re connected to the Vetrovs through marriage. Do you even care about Abigail?”
“Of course,” he chuckles. “The hundred million in my bank account is a welcome bonus.”
Fucker.
“After the wedding celebration in Italy, I’ll make sure you see her as little as possible,” I vow.
“Good. It means I won’t have to look at you.”
The call ends, and I stop to close my eyes so I can calm down before entering my parents’ house.
I can’t wait until Emilio Sartori is lying on his deathbed so I can tell him everything he’s ever worked for will belong to my and Abigail’s oldest child.
His life’s work will belong to a Vetrov.
Heading inside the house, I hear everyone talking in the kitchen.
Mom’s head snaps up when I enter. “Oh good, you’re here. Do you want butterflies or doves to be released after you’ve said your I-dos?”
“Butterflies,” I answer. I take hold of my Dad’s arm to get his attention, and in front of my family, I ask, “Will you be my best man?”
His eyes lock on mine, and I watch as emotions wash over his features. “I’d be honored, son.”
We don’t get to bask in our moment for long because Mom’s in wedding mode. “Abigail needs to come over this afternoon so Dana can have her fit on the dress. For the love of God, make sure she doesn’t have paint on her hands. I’ll shit myself if she gets it on the dress.”
I chuckle, loving how excited my mom is about the wedding.
Sunday will be perfect, just like Abigail is, and then she’ll have my last name.
Abigail Vetrov.
Fucking perfect.
Abbie
Dressed in the wedding gown of my dreams, I’m speechless and overly emotional.
The heart-shaped lace bodice leaves my shoulders bare, and at my waist, chiffon falls in a cloud to my bare feet. My hair hangs in a long braid down my back, baby’s breath woven into the strands.
I stare at my beautiful reflection, in total wonder at the pure bliss that’s my life.
Hi, Abbie. I’m so proud of you. Look how far you’ve come.
Tears blur my eyes, and I swallow hard.
You’ve survived so much and managed to get the man of your dreams.
Thank you for fighting for me.
“Are you ready?” Winter asks softly from the doorway.
Turning around, a wave of emotion hits hard, and I struggle to keep the tears back.
“Oh, baby,” she coos as she rushes to me. I’m pulled into a gentle hug. “It’s okay to cry on your special day.”
Pulling back, I inhale deeply before I meet her eyes. “Thank you for everything, Winter. I appreciate you so much.”
A soft smile curves her lips as she adjusts a curl by my ear. “Will you do me one favor?”