Till Death Saves Me (Forced Mafia Marriages)

30. Ginny

30

GINNY

I step onto the sleek private jet, my hand clasped tightly in Ivan's. The plush carpet beneath my feet feels surreal, a stark contrast to the concrete tarmac we just left behind. As I settle into one of the luxurious leather seats, I can't help but marvel at how drastically my life has changed in just three short months.

Ivan slides in next to me, his muscular arm wrapping possessively around my shoulders. I lean into him, inhaling his familiar scent of sandalwood. It's a scent that once made me tense with anxiety, but now brings nothing but comfort and desire.

"Ready for our honeymoon?" Ivan's deep voice rumbles in my ear.

I look up at him, still in awe of how his icy blue-gray eyes have softened when they gaze at me. "I can't believe we're actually doing this," I admit, a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling in my chest.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to my temple. "Believe it. Two weeks, just you and me."

As the jet begins to taxi, I think back to that fateful day three months ago. The day Ivan came home wounded, the day I finally admitted I loved him. Since then, it's been a whirlwind of passion, laughter, and yes, even a few arguments. But through it all, our love has only grown stronger.

The jet takes off, and I watch out the window as New York City shrinks beneath us. I remember how trapped I felt in that mansion when I first arrived, how I longed for escape. Now, as we soar above the clouds, I realize that true freedom isn't about where you are, but who you're with.

Ivan's hand finds mine, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my skin. "What are you thinking about?" he asks, his voice tinged with curiosity.

I turn to him, a smile playing on my lips. "Just how much has changed. How much we've changed."

His eyes darken with intensity. "For the better, I hope?"

"Definitely for the better," I assure him, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

As we break apart, I catch sight of Nikolai's parting gift on the table in front of us - a bottle of expensive champagne with a note wishing us well. It's nice to know that in Bratva, we have the blessing of the Pakhan.

Even if he was the one that forced us into this marriage in the first place.

I wake to the gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore, a warm breeze caressing my skin. As I stretch languidly, I feel Ivan's strong arm tighten around my waist, pulling me closer.

"Good morning," he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep.

I turn in his embrace, marveling at how relaxed he looks. The ever-present tension in his jaw has softened, and his blue-gray eyes sparkle with contentment. It's a far cry from the cold, calculating man I first met.

"Morning," I reply, unable to keep the smile from my face. "What's the plan for today?"

Ivan grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. "How about we start with this?" He leans in, capturing my lips in a deep, passionate kiss that leaves me breathless.

When we finally make it out of our overwater bungalow, Ivan surprises me by suggesting we try snorkeling. I've never seen him so excited — well, excited for Ivan. He's almost smiling — about something so... normal. As we wade into the crystal-clear water, he keeps a protective hand on my lower back, guiding me gently.

Underwater, Ivan transforms. His usual stoic expression gives way to something akin to wonder as we explore the vibrant coral reefs. He points out colorful fish, and when a sea turtle glides past us, he tracks it with a small smile that is nearly obscured by his snorkel but unmistakable.

Back on the beach, Ivan pulls me close, his arms wrapping around me from behind as we watch the sunset. "Thank you," he says softly, his lips brushing my ear.

"For what?" I ask, leaning back into his chest.

"For showing me there's more to life than the Bratva," he replies, his voice thick with emotion. "For giving me a reason to want something different."

I turn in his arms, struck by the vulnerability in his eyes. This is a side of Ivan I've never seen before - open, unguarded, almost vulnerable. It's beautiful and terrifying all at once.

I can't help but giggle as I catch Ivan staring at me for the hundredth time today. His eyes follow me hungrily as I adjust my tiny bikini top, the fabric barely covering what it needs to. I swear, if his gaze got any hotter, I'd burst into flames.

"See something you like?" I tease, sauntering over to where he's lounging on our private deck.

Ivan growls low in his throat, reaching out to pull me onto his lap. "You're going to be the death of me, malyshka," he murmurs, his hands skimming my bare sides.

I laugh, wrapping my arms around his neck. "And here I thought you were the dangerous one."

His lips quirk up in that half-smile I've come to adore. "I've created a monster," he jokes, nipping playfully at my collarbone.

We've barely left our bungalow all week, spending most of our time tangled in the sheets or lounging on our private deck. It's been absolute bliss, just the two of us in our own little bubble.

"We should probably explore the island at some point," I muse, not making any move to get up.

Ivan raises an eyebrow. "Why? Everything I want is right here."

His words send a thrill through me. Who would have thought that the cold, ruthless Ivan Kozlov could be so... sweet?

"Besides," he continues, his hands sliding down to cup my ass, "I'm quite enjoying the view right where I am."

I roll my eyes playfully. "You're insatiable."

"Only for you," he replies, pulling me in for a deep kiss that makes my toes curl.

As we break apart, I rest my forehead against his, marveling at how perfect this week has been. No Bratva business, no danger lurking around every corner. Just us, the sun, and the sea.

So I don't complain when he picks me up, laying me out on our private deck and fucking slow and deep. Not when he wrings pleasure from my body like it's the air he needs to breathe.

By the time we're done, the day is fading quickly into night. As the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant hues of orange and pink, I curl up closer to Ivan.

His strong arms encircle me, his chest warm against my back. We're both still catching our breath from our latest passionate encounter, my body deliciously sore in all the right places.

I trace lazy patterns on Ivan's forearm, marveling at how natural this feels now. The tension that used to crackle between us has transformed into something electric, magnetic. I can't get enough of him, and from the way his hands constantly seek my skin, I know he feels the same.

"Ivan," I murmur, tilting my head to look up at him. His blue-gray eyes meet mine, soft with post-coital bliss. "Can I ask you something?"

He nods, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple. "Anything."

I take a deep breath, suddenly nervous. "Are you... attached now?"

I feel him stiffen slightly behind me, and for a moment, I worry I've said the wrong thing. But then his lips find my neck, planting hot, open-mouthed kisses along my pulse point.

"Attached?" he growls against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. "I'm fucking obsessed with you, Virginia."

My heart soars at his words, and I turn in his arms to face him fully. His eyes are intense, burning with an emotion I never thought I'd see directed at me.

"You're my wife," he continues, his voice low and fervent. "I never should have tried to deny that. I never should have pushed you away."

"No you shouldn't have," I agree, kissing him.

His lips leave mine, working their way down my throat and then lower. I watch Ivan as he trails kisses down my body, his strong hands gripping my hips.

He kneels between my legs, looking up at me with those intense blue-gray eyes. My heart races, not just from the anticipation of his touch, but from the emotion I see reflected in his gaze.

"You know," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper, "you can make it up to me."

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Oh yeah? And how would I do that?"

I bite my lip, already feeling hot and needy. "Well, for starters..." I trail off, my breath hitching as he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of my thigh.

"For starters," he echoes, his voice low and husky. He looks up at me again, his expression serious now. "I could tell you I love you."

My heart skips a beat. It's not the first time he's said those words, but each time feels like a revelation. "I love you too," I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.

"And then I could show you just how much," he murmurs, and I know he can see the hitch in my breath from how hard my chest is heaving.

He holds my gaze for a moment longer, then lowers his mouth, kissing me intimately. My body arches, a soft gasp escaping my lips as he begins to make good on his promise.

I can't believe I get to call this man my husband. But he's mine. Forever.

And I wouldn't want it any other way.

The End