He’s a large man, but he’s not radiating health or vitality. The strong waft of alcohol and chemicals in the air nearly overpowers the scent of the god-awful flowers someone chose. He is not the true embodiment of an Alpha. To be an Alpha is to protect and provide by being at the forefront, not from hiding behind others. An Alpha should lead by example and make the hard decisions others can’t in their need to protect and provide; I guess that’s why he has Aleksei near him.
Aleksei is as much of an enigma as Sergey is an asshole. Him being here as second-in-command feels wrong on so many levels. I knew after being in his presence for a handful of moments that he is an Alpha who holds as much power and dominance as someone like Ronin, Valentine, and me. So, why the fuck would he align with such a cunt of a man?
Ronin and Valentine would shit themselves if they could see me now. Blood would stain their hands because there’s a lot of shit that’s happened recently in the global underworld that could easily be attributed to the Russians. Most recently was the attack on the O’Connors themselves.
I discreetly check my watch to see if Ronin has managed to source the name yet. Or at least a photo of the personresponsible, but so far, I’ve got nothing more than the attacker being Russian.
Of course I am here for Quinn, but I could and would enact vengeance in the name of the Trinity Alliance. I get a better understanding of the crap both Ronin and Valentine have recently been through, and what they have done to protect and secure their Omegas. Neither of them took issue with stalking, kidnapping, blackmail, or murder when it came to their fated matches. I’d always found it slightly fucking weird, but now I probably owe them, and their packs, an apology.
I know I’d do anything necessary to help Quinn in any way possible. Whenever she is ready to do something—I fucking hope the first step is to leave him—I am there. I will use every favor Ronin and Valentine owe, and then some. I will spend every dollar I have to make her disappear off the radar.
A new identity for her would take a couple of days to arrange. A new passport, a little bit longer. But time and money are no object, and I really will do whatever necessary to help her hide and stay hidden.
I suspect I’m not the only one ready to risk it all. Kade would be there doing everything he could too. Maybe between his contacts and experience with the police, and my experience in the underworld, we could provide the safety net she needs.
The wild horse is Aleksei. But that’s a problem for later. Right now, my stomach drops to my feet as the ceremony moves towards the inevitable outcome as Quinn and the Russian turn to face each other.
Sergey's focus is on the officiant. My focus is on the beautiful woman standing right in front of him. The one he never looks at or even acknowledges.
They get to the part where they swap vows and rings, and a lull of noise finally falls over the crowd. Sergey speaks, his voicelike nails dragging on a chalkboard, but it’s probably more about what he is saying. This part of the service seems universal.
When the priest turns to Quinn and repeats the words again, Sergey faces the crowd and grins like a crocodile.
Quinn's vows get lost under the applause of the crowd.
I stop myself from rushing in and saving her from further humiliation by mentally running through a long list of possible ways to kill her new husband.
ALEKSEI
“Come.” Sergey directs Quinn out of the main reception room, away from the milling guests.
Kade and Santiago follow. They haven’t left her alone for a second and have been consummate professionals the entire time. Same with Roshka.
No one has approached her, not because of her guards, more because the bastards in attendance are rude as fuck. But also because Sergey hasn’t spent any time since the service near her.
It’s shameful the way he has acted today, including how he snuck off with Bambi immediately after the service. As we walk through the door into the large meeting room, I find myself walking into another of his games.
The dining table has been twisted and placed at an angle. Rows of chairs sit diagonally to the alignment, all of them facing the front. The chairs are already occupied.
“What is going on, Sergey?”
“I want to welcome her to the family—in front of our closest allies.”
The doors behind us close. Unease skates over my senses because Sergey has gone to a lot of effort in setting this up but also keeping this from me.
There’s a reason for it all. What that is, I’m not sure just yet.
“Zhena!” Sergey barks at Quinn, suddenly making her jump, in turn making him smirk.
I lean close to him. “She doesn’t understand Russian, Sergey. Talk in English.”
Humor dances in his eyes when he looks at me, then ignores my request about speaking in English. “You seem to know her so well.”
I disagree, shaking my head.
He guides me towards the head of the table with an overly done show of tenderness. “The truth is, if anything happens to me, she will be, by rights, yours. Just like my title. This house and everything in it, Aleksei. It’s how father set everything up. He died; I inherited everything. I die; you inherit it.”
He’s generalizing and dramatizing as he speaks, until he stops talking and squeezes his eyes shut, his head lulling backward.
