Chapter 3
The next thirty minutes unfolded like a surreal dream. The whispers from the pews grew to a steady murmur as Alexander’s men ushered Greg’s confused relatives to one side, making room for the impromptu ceremony. Emma’s own small family — Melanie, her elderly aunt, two cousins — huddled together in shock as she took her place at the altar beside a man who was, for all intents and purposes, still a stranger.
Lily, delighted that the wedding was proceeding after all, skipped back up the aisle, scattering her flower petals with renewed enthusiasm. When she reached them, Alexander surprised Emma by kneeling down to Lily’s level again.
“May I have your permission to marry your mother?” he asked her solemnly.
Lily tilted her head, studying him with the direct, unfiltered gaze of childhood. “Will you make her cry like Greg did?”
A shadow passed over Alexander’s features. “No, malyshka. I won’t make her cry.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Lily considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. But you have to come to my tea parties. Greg never did.”
A genuine smile transformed Alexander’s face, softening the hard edges and revealing a dimple in his left cheek. “It would be my honor to attend your tea parties.”
The exchange was so unexpected, so strangely normal amid the absurdity of the situation, that Emma felt a hysterical laugh bubble up in her throat. She swallowed it down as Alexander rose to his feet.
“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing to the priest.
The ceremony itself was brief and surreal. Emma spoke her vows in a voice that sounded distant to her own ears, promising to honor and cherish a man whose full name she had learned just minutes ago. When Alexander spoke his vows, however, his voice rang clear and confident through the cathedral, as if he were making proclamations he fully intended to keep.
The ring he produced — not Greg’s ring, but a new one that one of his men had somehow procured in the brief interim — was a simple platinum band with a single flawless diamond that caught the light filtering through the stained glass windows. It slipped onto her finger with surprising ease, as though it had been made for her.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest declared, his voice tinged with the same bewilderment that permeated the cathedral. “You may kiss the bride.”
Emma froze. Somehow, in the whirlwind of the past hour, she had not considered this inevitable moment. Alexander’s dark eyes met hers. A question in them despite his commanding presence. He was waiting for her permission.
With the slightest nod, she consented.
His hand rose to cup her cheek. Surprisingly gentle for a man who radiated such power. Then his lips touched hers — light at first, a mere brush of contact that somehow managed to send a shiver down her spine. The kiss deepened slightly, his mouth firm and confident against hers before he pulled away. It lasted only seconds, yet she felt oddly breathless.
“Mrs. Volkov,” he said softly, his accent wrapping around the name in a way that made it sound like something precious.
Reality crashed back as applause scattered awkwardly through the cathedral, mostly from Alexander’s men, who seemed to be following some predetermined protocol. Her sister stood rigid with shock. Lily clapped delightedly, unaware of the gravity of what had just transpired.
“What happens now?” Emma whispered, suddenly terrified of the answer.
“Now,” he said, offering his arm, “we celebrate. The reception is still arranged, is it not?”
She nodded numbly. The reception at the small hotel ballroom down the street — another expense she could barely afford but had insisted on for Lily’s sake. Her daughter had been so excited about the party, the dancing, the cake.
“Perfect.” Alexander said as if reading her thoughts. “Lily should have her party.”
The hotel ballroom looked exactly as Emma had planned it with Greg months ago. White roses and baby’s breath arrangements on each table. Twinkling fairy lights draped from the ceiling. A small dance floor in the center. Yet everything felt fundamentally altered, as if she had stepped into a parallel universe where the familiar had become strange and unsettling.
Alexander’s men had arrived ahead of them, seamlessly taking control of the venue. They positioned themselves strategically around the perimeter, their dark suits and vigilant postures creating an atmosphere that was part celebration, part security operation. Most of Greg’s relatives had chosen to leave, their confusion and fear palpable as they hurried past at the entrance. Emma’s small circle of friends and family remained, clustered together near the cake table, their expressions a mixture of concern and bewilderment.
Rachel rushed forward as they entered. “Emma, are you okay? What’s happening?”
Before she could respond, Alexander placed his hand lightly on the small of her back — a gesture that was somehow both protective and possessive.
“Mrs. Volkov is perfectly safe,” he addressed Rachel with perfect politeness. “Today has simply taken an unexpected turn.”
“An unexpected turn?” Rachel repeated incredulously. “You forced her to marry you at the altar.”
Emma felt Alexander stiffen beside her. She stepped between them instinctively. “Rachel, please. Not here. Not in front of Lily.”
Lily had already spotted the three-tiered wedding cake and was tugging at Alexander’s sleeve, apparently having decided that he was now the authority figure to petition for sweets. “Can I have cake now? You promised there would be cake.”
To Emma’s surprise, Alexander knelt down to her level once again. “So I did. But first, I believe there should be a proper introduction. Lily, from today I am your—” He paused, glancing up at Emma with an unexpected flicker of uncertainty.
“Stepfather,” she supplied, the word feeling foreign on her tongue.
“Stepfather,” he repeated, returning his attention to Lily. “You may call me Alex.”
Lily considered this with solemn deliberation. “Does that mean you’re my new daddy now?”
May you like
The question hung in the air, loaded with implications that made Emma’s heart constrict painfully. Before she could intervene, Alexander answered with surprising gentleness.
“I would be honored to be your father figure, malyshka. But I understand that position must be earned. For now, let’s say I am your mother’s husband and your protector. The rest will come with time and trust.”
