Today was the Nikah—the main wedding.
Nikolai stood before the mirror, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves with controlled precision. His expression was calm, but beneath it lay a quiet intensity, something deeper than nerves—something permanent.
"Wow, look at brother. You look extremely handsome!" Daria said, her voice filled with admiration as she circled him.
Nikolai chuckled softly as the others joined in teasing him, their laughter filling the room.
"Alright, let's go. It's time!" Taran (Massimo) said firmly.
They all stepped out together.
"Nick, look at you, my son!" Mrs. Francesca said, her eyes shining with pride.
Nikolai smirked lightly before pulling her into a brief hug.
"Let's go," he said.
They entered the cars, engines roaring to life as they made their way to the mosque. Zahuril had requested the Nikah specifically—though the family was Hindu, his roots as a Bengali Muslim held significance, and today honored that part of him.
Ten minutes later, they arrived at Baitul Mukarram National Mosque in Dhaka.
Zahuril stood among the guests, overseeing everything with quiet dignity.
Meanwhile, in the women's dressing room—
Lily (Neva) sat in her wedding dress, small and radiant.
"Hold on, let me get Riyana!" Mrs. Asma said, wiping her tears as she stepped out.
Outside, Sohan held Riyana's hands tightly. Her emotions were barely contained.
"Calm down. Now it's your turn to cry," Sohan teased gently.
"Ria, come in," Mrs. Asma called.
They entered.
Riyana froze.
Her heart melted instantly at the sight before her.
Lilith (Baneva) sat there like a vision—draped in an opulent ivory white lehenga crafted from layered silk and net, overflowing with intricate zardozi and pearl embroidery. Every detail shimmered like soft moonlight. Her fitted blouse was encrusted with fine crystals and hand-worked motifs, while a long, flowing veil cascaded behind her like a royal train, edged with delicate lace and silver thread.
Her jewelry was a masterpiece—diamonds and pearls layered gracefully around her neck, wrists, and forehead. Her hair was styled in a sleek low bun, adorned with white roses, creating a divine, regal presence of pure elegance.
Riyana's tears flowed freely.
Sohan smiled softly. Aarav wiped his tears. Nihal and Farhan stood silently, emotional. Reyan chuckled lightly while taking pictures. Rafsan wiped his own tears as Sohan comforted Riyana.
The tiny bride giggled at them all—her family.
They stepped out together.
Nikolai and his family approached.
"Boss, your turn," Rima said with a grin.
Nikolai inhaled deeply and walked into the room.
He wore a majestic white sherwani tailored from rich silk, with refined silver embroidery along the collar and cuffs. A perfectly fitted churidar complemented the look, while a structured ivory shawl rested across his shoulder, detailed with subtle patterns. A diamond brooch gleamed at his chest, and polished traditional footwear completed his appearance.
He looked powerful. Royal. Untouchable.
And then—he saw her.
He smiled.
"Lily… Nikki!" she called, opening her arms.
He walked toward her immediately, bending down to her height as he pulled her into a tight embrace. He kissed her forehead, tears rolling down his face.
She wiped them away gently, then kissed him on the lips before pulling back, giggling.
"Nikki got lipstick on your l…l…lippy," she said, laughing loudly.
He chuckled, holding her again.
They all moved into the mosque.
Men sat on one side. Women on the other.
Nikolai sat down, a hint of nervousness finally visible.
"Calm down," Taran (Massimo) whispered.
The girls brought Lilith (Baneva) forward, her white veil covering her face. Riyana kissed her forehead and seated her carefully.
The ceremony began.
The Imam stood, his voice steady and clear.
Khutbah (Sermon)
He recited verses from the Qur'an and gave advice about marriage—about patience, love, duty, and faith.
Nikolai listened intently.
Beside them, Lily (Neva) played with her dress, her tongue sticking out slightly in concentration.
"Baby, listen to the Imam," Anika whispered.
She nodded.
Then came the Mahr (dowry).
"What will the bride want from the groom?" the Imam asked.
"What do you want from Nikolai, baby?" Zhanna asked gently.
"Cookies!" the tiny bride said instantly.
Silence. Confusion.
"Lily w…w…wants cookies from her N…Nikki. That's it," she added, pouting.
Nikolai chuckled.
"I will give her the sum of $8 trillion dollars, her own restaurant, and a bakery," he said calmly.
Whispers erupted across the mosque.
"Oh wow, he is extremely rich!" Reshma whispered.
"Baneva is mentally unstable, and yet the Almighty blessed her with him," Ismat muttered.
Huma scoffed. "Maybe he is getting married under pressure and pity."
Riyana shot her a deadly glare that said everything without a word. Her hand moved softly over Lilith's back.
The Imam continued.
"Do you accept Lilith Mahira Baneva in marriage with the agreed Mahr?"
"I do. I do. I do," Nikolai answered firmly—three times.
Applause filled the mosque.
Lily (Neva) blushed.
"Do you, Lilith Mahira Baneva, accept Nikolai Devereaux as your husband with the agreed Mahr?"
"Lily do… Lily do… Lily do!" she said shyly, giggling.
The crowd clapped again.
They proceeded to the signing of the marriage contract.
Nikolai signed first.
Then Lilith.
"Baby, write your name here, love," Nishi guided gently.
She wrote "Lily" and drew a heart beside Nikolai's name, giggling proudly.
Yulian captured every moment.
Across the room, Adnan's gaze lingered on Trinetra. She noticed—and looked away sharply, irritated.
"Congratulations. You are now husband and wife. May the Lord bless your marriage and keep you both safe and happy forever," the Imam declared.
"Ameen!" everyone responded.
Dua followed—prayers, blessings filling the air.
They stood.
The separating veil dropped. Her veil still covered her face, flowers in her hands.
Riyana guided her gently toward the garden.
"Go, bro," Xeno said.
Nikolai walked forward, hands in his pockets.
Petals rained down from above as the girls showered the path in flowers.
Lily giggled at them, lifting her veil. A soft blush spread across her face.
Nikolai opened his arms.
She laughed, lifting her lehenga slightly as she ran toward him.
She jumped into his arms.
He caught her effortlessly, eyes closing as he held her tightly—overwhelmed with love.
Sohan wrapped his arms around Riyana, wiping her tears.
Nikolai lifted Lily with one arm, spinning her around.
Her laughter echoed—pure, bright, endless.
Everyone smiled.
He kissed her forehead.
Later, at Nikolai's mansion—
He stood in his room, now dressed in a black button-up shirt with folded sleeves and dark pants. His hair had grown slightly, adding to his sharp appearance.
The room was decorated—by him. Carefully. Personally.
He locked it.
Downstairs, the family prepared for the arrival of the bride.
"The Queen. Good luck, Nick!" Meghan said.
He nodded and stepped out, getting into his Lamborghini Centenario, driving off.
Meanwhile—
Riyana adjusted Lily (Neva)'s hair, tucking strands carefully beneath her golden abaya—worth ৳10 million taka, chosen by Zahuril.
A car pulled up.
Nikolai had arrived.
The family welcomed him.
"My bride?" he asked directly.
"Oh, brother-in-law, you're going to pay to see her!" Farzana teased.
Without hesitation, Nikolai brought out ৳20 million taka.
Their eyes widened.
Then—he looked up.
And saw her.
Riyana led Lilith downstairs.
Sohan kissed her forehead, taking her hand. She held her teddy bear in the other.
Reyan and Nihal wiped their mother's tears. Rafsan placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"She is yours now. And forever," Sohan said, placing her tiny hand into Nikolai's much larger one.
Nikolai pulled her closer instinctively.
They walked outside together.
He opened the car door for her.
She paused—looked back one last time.
She waved. Blew kisses.
"Bye, Neva!" they called.
"Bye bye!" Lilith (Baneva) replied softly.
She sat inside.
He buckled her seatbelt, then leaned in and kissed her lips gently.
He moved to his seat, starting the engine.
He reached out his hand toward her.
"For life and forever, my love?"
She smiled, giggling.
"F…F…For life and forever!"
The car pulled away.
And just like that—
The Mafia King drove his Queen home.