“Yeah. Two hundred fifty bucks and three thousand rubles.”

“Give me a hundred,” he said, holding out his hand.

Nadya handed him a $100 bill.

“That’s for the registration. Put the rest back,” he ordered, tucking the money into his pocket.

By 1 AM, they were already asleep in separate hotel rooms. Spartacus had no energy left to think. Marriage? Fine. At least now he had a reason to be responsible for this crazy girl—as her husband.

At exactly 9 AM, they stood at the door of the civil registry office in the district center. Spartacus had called an old army buddy at dawn, and through a few connections, got everything arranged fast. Then he woke his blissfully unaware bride, and they rushed back over.

The hundred dollars weren’t enough, so he threw in another bill, and they were registered. The only requirement was a pregnancy certificate to justify the urgent marriage.

When he heard that, Spartacus almost backed out. But Nadya pulled him aside and promised him it wouldn’t come to that.

“It better not,” he grumbled with suspicion.

An hour later, they were officially declared husband and wife and handed a marriage certificate.

In worn jeans and a slightly grubby blouse, the bride still looked stunning. Spartacus caught himself staring at her for a moment, then shook his head and walked toward the car.

“Never thought my bride would walk out of a wedding in jeans and a ponytail instead of a veil…”

“Phew! You’re my angel, my savior!” Nadya cheered, hopping into the old UAZ.

Perfect outfit. Fancy car. What a day, he thought, smirking as he started the engine.

“Where are we going now?” his new wife asked.

“To my house,” he said, shooting her a look. “Time to meet your in-laws.”

“You’re serious?!”

“What, you want your father to think something’s off?”

“No, of course not… you’re right. But what am I supposed to do there?”

“Live.”

“For real?”

“For real. As my wife. And get ready to work, sweetheart. Nobody’s gonna let you lay around doing nothing.”

“You’re kidding, right? This isn’t a real marriage!”

“Only for us. Everyone else will think it’s the real deal,” he said. “Either that, or we get divorced, and I go straight to your father with everything I know—his name, address, the whole package.”

“No! No, please don’t do that!” Nadya panicked. “Let’s just agree on what we’ll tell him—how we met, when, all that…”

“Good idea,” Spartacus nodded. “When did you get back from the States?”

“Over two months ago.”

“Did you stay overnight anywhere during that time? With a friend or something?”

“No. Just visited my mother’s grave.”

He looked at her and quietly offered his condolences.

“Thanks. She died when I was ten.”

“What from?”

“Pneumonia.”

He sighed heavily and gently touched her shoulder. Nadya looked at his hand, and he quickly pulled it away.

“My father died when I was that age too,” he said.

“But you said I’d be meeting your father-in-law…”

“I’ve got a stepdad.”

“Ah, I see. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, truly,” she said gently. “What happened to your dad?”

“There was a fire at our house. He got my mother and me out, then went back in to save the animals. A burning beam fell on him. Everything burned down. My stepdad took us in after that.”

“You don’t like him?”

“I’m neutral. He treats Mom well, and that’s enough for me.”

“Did he treat you like a son?”

“Not really,” Spartacus said, squinting as he tried to remember. “My boxing coach was more of a father to me—but he passed a few years back too. Uncle Pasha never pushed me, so I didn’t complain. He taught me a lot though.”

“Like what?”