"Of course. I wouldn't dream of ruining your special day." Alexei smiles. "Besides, I'm sure we'll be seeing much more of each other. Now that we're practically family."
"We're not family."
"No? Your wife's brother owes me. That makes her my debtor by extension. And you married her." He leans closer. "That makes this very complicated, Adrian. For all of us."
He walks away before I can respond.
I grip the bar hard enough that my knuckles go white.
Alexei just issued a threat. A reminder that Gabriel's debt still exists, and by extension, so does his claim on Sera.
And if Gabriel really was feeding information to the Morozovs, then Sera could be part of a much bigger problem than I thought.
I shake off the paranoia. Alexei is playing mind games, trying to undermine my marriage before it's even begun.
It won't work.
Sera is mine. The baby is mine. Whatever games the Morozovs are playing, they've already lost.
I grab the water and head back to my wife.
CHAPTER 13
Adrian
Two hours later, I've had enough of the politicking and entertaining. My mother can handle the remaining guests.
"We're leaving," I tell Sera, who's been talking with Gemma.
Relief floods her face. "Thank God."
Gemma smiles. "Congratulations. Both of you." She shoots me a loaded look, which I ignore. She can disapprove all she wants. I'm not asking for her blessing.
"Thank you for everything," Sera says quietly, genuine gratitude in her expression.
I make a mental note to facilitate a relationship between them. If Sera feels connected to the family, the transition will be easier for everyone.
We say our goodbyes to my mother, who looks like the cat that got the cream. I suppose she has reason to—for once, we align. Her desire for me to marry and produce an heir has been fulfilled, and I've done so willingly.
And now my wife is coming with me.
"Are we going to the penthouse?" she asks as I guide her through the crowd.
"Not yet," I say.
"Don't tell me you're taking me on a honeymoon." Sarcasm drips from her voice.
"I figured you wouldn't want to travel yet," I tell her. "Though you name the place, and we'll go."
"I want to see Gabe."
I ignore her, leading her deeper into the house. The reception was held in the ballroom downstairs. Now I'm taking her upstairs to our wing—her new home, whether she's ready for it or not.
"I want to show you where we'll be living. We have the entire east wing of the mansion."
The horror that crosses her face is immediate and visceral.
I laugh—I can't help it. She's so transparent, so easy to read.
