Chosen By A Sinner (The Sinners Series)

Chosen By A Sinner: Chapter 42



I fidget with the rose gold cufflinks and glance at Viktor.

“You’ve got this,” he offers me some encouragement.

Mom comes down the aisle, and seeing her, has me swallowing hard. She takes a seat next to Dad, then waves at me.

I smile at my parents, so glad Mariya and I are getting to celebrate this day with them.

When Aunt Bella comes to take a seat, my stomach tightens into a ball of nerves.

“Fuck, you can face a group of armed men, but marrying Mariya has you looking like a nervous wreck,” Viktor mutters under his breath.

I let out a chuckle right as elegant piano notes silence the guests.

I turn to face the aisle, and when my eyes settle on the sliding doors, Mariya and Uncle Alexei step out. A cello joins the pianist, the music so fucking perfect as my bride takes her first step toward me.

The punch to my heart knocks the breath from me, and for a moment, I sway from the intensity.

God, she’s so beautiful. I try to memorize the sight of Mariya in the black wedding dress, but I can’t focus on anything but her face and the emotion clearly visible with the tears spiraling over her cheeks.

My throat strains again, and when the woman I love more than anything locks eyes with me, I can’t hold the emotions in.

A tear escapes, but I couldn’t give a fuck. I’m marrying Mariya Koslov, the badass princess, the strongest woman, my vulnerable love.

Uncle Alexei stops right before the end of the aisle, which was not planned. Knowing what he wants, I step down the small podium and walk toward them.

When I stop in front of them, he says, “I’m giving you my life, Luca.”

“Which I’ll guard with my own.”

Mariya lets out a sob as her father takes hold of her hand and holds it out to me. “I’m not losing a daughter but gaining a son.”

Christ.

I take my bride’s hand, and locking eyes with her, I can only stare at her. “You take my breath away, mia regina.”

I lead her to the podium, where Viktor looks just as emotional as me. 

When we’re facing the priest, I give Mariya’s hand a squeeze. A shortened version of the ceremony starts, so we don’t keep Mariya standing for too long.

When it’s time for our vows, we turn to face each other.

She flicks a tear away from her cheek, then says, “I don’t know why brides wear makeup we cry it all off.”

There’s a wave of chuckles from our families and friends.

Mariya lifts her gaze to mine, and overflowing with love, she says, “I want you to promise me that every morning when I wake up, you’ll be there because I won’t survive a day without you.” She pauses as she sucks in deep breaths, her voice straining as she continues, “I don’t want the sun to rise without you, so could you please stay with me until we’re old and we’ve lived every day this life gave us.” A tear trickles down her cheek. “And when our time comes, I want you to hold my hand because I’m certain God negotiates, and we can get another life together out of the man upstairs.”

While the guests chuckle again, my eyes rest softly on my wife, her vows filling every inch of my heart.

“Eleven years ago, I fell in love with an Italian boy. I spent night after night weaving fairytales around him.”

Another tear escapes my eye, and Mariya reaches up to brush it away.

“Thank you for giving me the fairytale love I never imagined I’d have.”

We both breathe for a moment before I say, “I promise to share every sunrise with you because no day would be worth living if I don’t see your beautiful face.” I take hold of her hand and, holding it in both of mine, I swallow hard on the intensity of the moment before I continue, “I’ll never let you go, Mariya. I’ll follow you to the highest heaven and the deepest hell. I’ll fight all the gods and all the demons who might stand in our way, I’ll burn down this Earth and give you the universe.”

She gasps past a sob, tears falling from her chin to land at our feet.

Stepping closer to her, I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and rest my forehead against hers. “I love you with all that I am. My heart. My body. My entire being.” I press a tender kiss to her trembling lips. “You are the light of my life, and I promise to treasure, protect, and love you all the days I’m given until my last breath.”

We exchange rings, and once we’re declared husband and wife for a second time, I sweep Mariya up into my arms, bridal style, and demand, “Kiss me, amore mio.”

She wraps her arms around my neck, and with a world of happiness shining from her eyes, she takes my mouth with all the passion and love we’ll share until the end of our days.

Cheers and applause break out, and I feel Viktor patting my back.

When the kiss ends, I stare into Mariya’s eyes and stepping off the podium, confetti rains down on us.

I watch as Mariya laughs and catches a piece of black and rose gold confetti, and too soon, we’re swept up by guests congratulating us.

I put her down on a vacated chair and take a moment between people clamoring for our attention to ask, “How’s your leg.”

She beams up at me. “It’s fine, my husband.”

I grin at her like an idiot as I crouch in front of her. “Thank you for marrying me again.”

“I’ll marry you a million times, Luca. Only you.”

“Il mio,” I murmur, so fucking proud that I get to call her mine.

Mariya’s hands frame my jaws, and she leans forward, sealing our mouths together.

Not giving a single fuck about our family and friends watching, I kiss my love possessively, desperately, and with the inferno of emotions only she can evoke in me.


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