Lies of My Monster (Monster Trilogy #2) by Rina Kent

It’s the man who’s waiting at the front of the room, who freezes upon seeing me.

Astonishment and awe fill Kirill’s expression, and his icy eyes turn to liquid blue as his eyes follows my every step.

Once I’m across from him, I clear my throat. “How do I look?”

He doesn’t answer.

I shift. “I know it’s weird. I might have caused myself a bit of whiplash, too, and—”

“You’re the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

My breath gets stuck at the base of my throat, and I have to hold back tears. Kirill grabs my hand. “Let’s get this over with so I can unwrap you.”

I suppress a laugh as he leads me to the man at the table, and we sit opposite him.

I can’t stop looking at my fingers threaded into Kirill’s. Is it weird that we’re getting married, but this is the first time he’s held my hand this way?

“Make it quick,” he tells the man.

“I can just ask for consent, and then you both sign the certificate,” he replies with a Russian accent.

“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.