Sasha
SashaMaxim brushes a lock of hair blowing in my face back then rejoins our hands. We stand on the beach at sunset, reciting our vows.
We asked Nikolai to officiate what I’m calling “our re-wedding.” The ceremony isn’t real, of course—our paperwork is already filed. Our union legal. But this spoiled princess didn’t want to be deprived of planning her own wedding, so here we are—on the beach in Ibiza—catching the end of season parties.
I flew my college friends—including Kimberly, who I couldn’t leave out—here to help me celebrate. My mom is here on her best behavior, pretending—like me—that this is my first and real wedding.
Ravil and Lucy couldn’t travel because it’s too close to their baby’s due date, but everyone else from the penthouse suite is here—Dima, Nikolai, Oleg, and Pa
