Yeah, sure. I chuckle. The nerve this guy has. He’s crippled with debts, no wonder he's trying to make us look like family.Fuck him. The only reason he’s still standing there alive is because his daughter saved his ass. It was this or his body dead in the club basement for betraying us by talking to the Italians.
“Mia,” his wife continues, Amalia, if I remember correctly, her voice dripping with false admiration. “From a young age, you were already the image of calm and strength. What an honor it has been to see you grow into such a wonderful and sweet woman.”
Calm and sweet?
Has she talked to her once?
“Ares, in the name of my family, we trust you with what’s most precious to us.” She purrs. I can’t put my finger on it but something’s off.
I glance at Mia and find the answer I’m looking for. Pure anger fills her brown pools, clashing with the small smile frozen on her face. Her eyes are fixed on her mother, pupils fully dilated like a prey would in front of a predator.
Alert, ready to react, on her guard.
Her fingers grip the edge of the tablecloth, the tension in her body barely contained. I notice the slight tremor in her hand and the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. It’s clear she’s trying to maintain composure, but it looks like a shitstorm of resentment.
What’s going on with her parents? What did they do to her?
O’brian talks again, ending the speech with empty platitudes and shitty praises. He’s playing the good father part, but Mia’s reaction tells me a different story.
She’s not buying it. Not a single word.
I lean back in my chair, my eyes flickering between Mia and O’brian. Never trusted the guy, never will. He’s never heard the words loyalty or honor in his life.
Her parents raise their glasses, and the room follows suit. I keep my gaze fixed on Mia. She raises her glass mechanically, her eyes never leaving her parents. There’s a coldness in her gaze, colder than what I saw from her since thismorning. She’s not here by choice, but there’s more. They did something to her, otherwise she wouldn't act like this.
I’ll find out, and I’ll make it better.
Whatever she’s afraid of.
I’ll make it go away.
What?
You just met her, don’t get ahead of yourself.
Once we’re done listening to bullshit speeches and congratulations, I take Mia’s delicate wrist in my rough hand, and angle my head toward her.
“Alright, think we’re done now.” I sigh, forcing her to stand next to me, my brothers match us waiting for my orders.
“Thank you, everyone, for coming today. Mia and I appreciate you being here to celebrate with us,” I say, more for my brothers than for her clan, my deep voice echoing across the room. “We’re leaving. The dance floor’s open for those who wanna party. The rest of ya, have a good fucking night.” I nod at my men and they nod back, showing their respect. Vox taps my back. “Was nice to meet ya, Mia,” he says to her. “Good luck,” he murmurs to me with a sly grin.
“Fuck you,” I fire back with a chuckle. It’s good sport. I gave him hell a few months ago with Rose, won’t say I didn’t deserve it. As we head toward the stairs, my men surround me, patting me on the back and shaking my hand.
“Congratulations, Prez,” Shadow says to me, his old lady, Erin, right behind him.
“Thanks,” I reply, my tone curt. I’m not an emotional guy, but they know that already. No one knows me better than them. They nod to Mia, then take the exit, and I hear the roar of their Harleys, disappearing into the night one by one. That’s the thing about my men—they know when to show respect and when to get the fuck out of my way. Right when I reach the stairs, Mia’s arm pulls toward the opposite side.
“Actually, I’m going to stay and dance with my sister,” she says, her body already turning back into the room. The dance floor is quite small, considering it's our living room, but a few people are already dancing.
“Don’t think so.” My hand is still gripping her wrist.
“Are you seriously going all caveman on me right now? It’s my wedding. I’m going to dance with my sister and get drunk until I don’t remember you’re the one I married.”
Ouch.
“No.” Her eyes flash with defiance as she tries to pull away, but my grip tightens. I pull her closer, our faces inches apart. "You’re my wife now, Mia. You go where I go."
“Don’t think so, big guy.” Her sass is back where she left it, her gaze determined and confident. I've never hurt women in my life and I never will, so I let her go.
