I am still at the altar when a cold voice breaks the silence and claims me in front of the whole chapel.
Damir Volodin, the silver-haired Bratva king my fiancé counts as his worst enemy, stands in the doorway in a tailored suit.
The man they call the savage puts a bullet in my fiancé, then demands that I marry him instead.
Saying no is not a choice he leaves open, so the vow meant for another man becomes his.
An age-gap Bratva marriage begins with the enemy I never expected to call my husband.
