A WINTER PROPOSAL (One-shot novel)

The snow fell in elegant silence over the city of St. Petersburg. Outside the grand hotel, crystal chandeliers glowed from every tall window. Guests in silk gowns and tailored suits were ushered inside with champagne in hand and music trailing behind them like perfume in the wind.

Nikolai Petrov stood at the bottom of the marble steps, a soft white turtleneck hugging his frame, a navy velvet blazer draped over his shoulders. His honey-brown hair curled gently beneath the warm light, and his round blue eyes blinked at the doorman with a hesitant smile.

He hadn’t expected this. Not the luxury. Not the golden banners with his name. Not the guests.

Certainly not the words that greeted him the moment he stepped into the ballroom.

“С Днём Рождения, Николай!!”

Happy Birthday, Nikolai.

A wave of applause, cheers, and champagne flutes clinking. Cameras flashed. People swarmed him with kisses on cheeks and warm hugs.

Nikolai froze.

> “...Huh?”

It wasn’t his birthday. His birthday was in April.

And this… was December.

He scanned the room with growing confusion, only to find him — tall, composed, wearing a black tailored coat with a fur collar, diamond cufflinks glinting under the chandeliers. Alexei Mikhailov, standing like he owned the world.

Because he did.

Mafia prince. Quiet storm. Eyes like ice and arms that had once held Nikolai like the only thing worth protecting.

And now, he was raising a glass of champagne with the smallest smile on his lips.

Nikolai pushed through the crowd.

> “Alexei,” he whispered, pulling him aside. “What is this? Today’s not my birthday.”

Alexei’s silver-blond hair was slicked back neatly, not a strand out of place. The scar across his right eyebrow twitched as he gave a soft smirk.

> “I know.”

> “Then why—”

> “Just enjoy it for now.”

Nikolai stared, stunned. He should’ve known something was off — Alexei never planned things lightly. But why go this far? Why lie?

He tried to smile for the crowd. Cut the cake. Toasted with friends. Accepted presents. But the tension coiled inside him. It didn’t make sense.

Even his closest friends leaned in, whispering:

> “Wait… isn’t your birthday in April?”

Nikolai half-laughed.

> “That’s what I’ve been saying.”

A ripple of confusion passed through the guests. Whispers buzzed like bees in the golden air. He could feel eyes darting toward Alexei. Toward him. The music still played, but the mood had shifted. Everyone was waiting for something.

Then —

the lights dimmed.

A collective gasp.

The music stopped.

A single spotlight cut through the room — and landed on the stage. There stood Alexei, alone, his expression calm and unreadable. He held the microphone like he held everything else — with silent command.

> “Yes,” he said, voice deep and clear. “Today is not Nikolai’s birthday. I lied.”

Louder gasps. Some amused, some scandalized. But Alexei went on, his eyes never leaving Kolya.

> “But it’s a day more important than that.”

The screen behind him flickered to life.

Footage played — quiet moments Nikolai thought no one saw:

Snowball fights on empty roads. Nikolai reading on the couch, curled up in a sweater. Alexei brushing snowflakes from his hair. A candid clip of Kolya laughing.

The ballroom was silent.

Alexei stepped down from the stage and walked toward him — slow, steady, unstoppable. The crowd parted like sea water.

> “I could’ve waited until April,” Alexei said, now standing in front of him. “But I’m done waiting.”

He knelt.

Gasps. Hands over mouths. Cameras clicking.

He pulled out a silver ring, simple and elegant, with a deep sapphire gleaming under the light.

> “Nikolai Petrov,” he said, voice trembling for the first time, “You are the calm in my chaos. The warmth in my winters. The only future I want.”

> “Will you marry me?”

The world blurred.

Nikolai’s hands flew to his mouth. He couldn’t stop the tears. Couldn’t stop the tremble in his chest. His cheeks burned, but his heart… oh, his heart was soaring.

> “You… you tricked me with a fake birthday party,” he sniffled, laughing through tears, “just to do this?”

Alexei chuckled softly.

> “Worked, didn’t it?”

Nikolai threw himself forward, hands around Alexei’s neck, sobbing and laughing at once.

> “Of course, I’ll marry you, you idiot!!”

The room exploded in cheers. Confetti rained from above. The violin music returned, swelling like something out of a dream.

Alexei slipped the ring on his finger and pulled him close, foreheads touching, breaths mingling. Outside the windows, the snow fell softly, quietly — like the world had finally exhaled.

And in that grand, glowing room…

they began their forever.

> It was never his birthday.

It was the beginning of forever

"The end"

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