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“Your grip is too loose,” I say when she tries to aim at the target.

I step behind her. The moment my chest presses lightly against her back, her scent wraps around me. I reach forward and adjust her arms, my hands covering hers as I correct her stance. My fingers slide over hers, repositioning them on the grip.

I feel the slight shiver that runs through her body. Goosebumps rise along the exposed skin of her arms and the side of her neck.

My own pulse kicks harder at the contact. Standing this close, with her body fitting so perfectly against mine, makes it difficult to keep my focus purely instructional.

“Like this,” I murmur near her ear. I guide her index finger to the trigger, applying the lightest pressure with my own. “Slow and steady. Don’t jerk it.”

Her breathing has changed, shallower. I can feel the warmth of her through our clothes, the subtle way she leans back into me without fully realizing it.

Every instinct in me wants to drop the lesson entirely and press my mouth to the side of her neck. I force myself to stay still, jaw tight, and keep my hands steady over hers.

“Now,” I say quietly. “Take the shot.”

The bullet hits the bullseye.

“Now try a few on your own,” I tell her, stepping back just enough to give her space.

Aurora raises the gun, steadies herself, and fires. The shot misses the target completely. Frustration flickers across her face.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be,” I say calmly. “You’re doing fine. It’s your first time. Don’t rush it. Square your shoulders, breathe, and squeeze the trigger slowly.”

She nods and tries again. Another miss. Then another. I can see her growing impatient with herself, but I keep my voice steady, correcting her stance with quiet instructions.

On the fifth attempt, the bullet hits the outer ring of the target.

Her entire face lights up. A bright smile spreads across her lips as she turns to look at me, eyes shining with genuine excitement.

Her mood infects me, softening my heart as well.I realize how little it takes to make my wife happy. And for some reason I can’t fully explain, I want to be the one who puts that look on her face. I want to be the reason she smiles like that.

Chapter 14

Aurora

The ride to the gala is surprisingly pleasant.

Ever since we left the shooting range, the tension between us has softened. Roman seems more relaxed than I’ve seen him.

He’s even wearing the black-and-red tie I chose for him. And he’s smiling more. Talking more easily. For a little while, I completely forget about the fight we had last night.

I find myself looking forward to the rest of the evening with him, and quietly hoping that afterward, he stays. That he doesn’t disappear again the moment the night ends.

Roman walks around from the other side of the car and takes my hand, his palm broad and warm. Under his lead, we step onto the red carpet together. Cameras flash immediately. Paparazzi call our names, and we pause for a few photos before moving into the grand hall.

The space is elegant and packed with Chicago’s elite, politicians, businessmen, and powerful figures from both the legitimate and underworld sides of the city. This is our first official outing as a couple, and I can feel the weight of every curious glance.

The first person who approaches is a man from Roman’s circle. He congratulates us on the wedding with polite warmth. Roman keeps his responses brief but civil.

Then an older woman with a thick Russian accent walks up to us. After the usual greetings, her eyes move from me to Roman.

“What a powerful couple you and Katerina would have made,” she says almost wistfully.

“We already make a powerful couple,” Roman's voice goes cold, and he places his hand on the small of my back. “With my wife, Aurora.”

The woman’s smile falters. She lets out a nervous laugh and raises both hands slightly. “Oh—I didn’t mean…my apologies, Pakhan. I meant no disrespect.”