“Whatever,” I said.
I attempted to pull my hand away, but his grip tightened, not painfully, but firmly. “It’s the first time I’m taking a wife, I want to do it properly, so ‘whatever’ is not the right answer.”
I yanked my hand away and glared at him. “FYI, getting married to you is not a privilege. I have a feeling it’s going to be a nightmare, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take. My family will protect me if you expose me to Peter. They would even applaud me for defending myself. So if you want to see me tear up that contract, bring it on.”
“Now, now, children.” Margo snatched the signed documents. “This situation would be easier if both of youstopped antagonizing each other and stopped seeing the other as an adversary.”
My mouth thinned. It was easy for her to say, she wasn’t the one getting married to a bossy man who thought he was doing me a favor by marrying me. I paused. Actually, Kirill was doing me a favor, but he was benefitting from it too. I was sure of it, and I intended to find out what it was.
I blew out a breath. “Diamonds are fine.”
He allowed a brief nod.
Margo’s phone buzzed, but before she could say anything, a rap sounded on the door.
“Come in,” Kirill said.
Sato walked in. “The news of Davenport’s death is racing across our network. Your father is trying to reach you.” He looked at me. “I have unconfirmed reports that your uncle left Chicago a few hours ago.”
“Shit.”
“There’s a few press people outside, but I hear the majority are at Davenport’s house.”
“Is the car ready?” Kirill asked.
“We’re ready to take Miss De Lucci home.”
“Showtime,” Kirill murmured.
Before I could reply, he put his arm around me and dragged me to his side. He lowered his head to my ear, his warm breath sending prickles of awareness racing across my skin. “Should we practice?”
“Let’s not take this farce too far.”
I attempted to free myself from him, but his arm around my shoulder tightened. “We can hardly say we had a lover’s quarrel. We’re supposed to be a newly engaged couple.”
Dammit. He was right.
So I endured the march outside his study. The duffel Margo brought was sitting in the foyer. My clothes from last night werein it, and they were destined for destruction. I didn’t trust Kirill not to keep them as evidence.
What a way to start a marriage. On distrust and murder.
But my immediate concern was my uncle and brother. Luca and Dom wouldn’t buy this whole sham. They would know Kirill was holding something over my head. I had to be firm that this was the right decision because I’d be damned before a war started because of me. Everything I stood for, my aversion to mob violence, would turn into hypocrisy.
The double doors of Kirill’s house opened. I didn’t even know where we were, but beyond the circular driveway, a crowd gathered behind wrought-iron gates.
I shielded my eyes against the morning sun as Kirill casually strolled us down the marble steps to the Bentley.
“Sato will be your driver and bodyguard.”
“What?” That was news to me.
Kirill opened the door of the vehicle, and I was about to get in, when his grip on my arm stopped me. “Don’t argue.”
I should have ducked into the vehicle when I had the chance, but my internal rebellion refused to let him have the last say and threw my self-preservation out the window.
“Don’t be bossy,” I shot back.
The blue of his irises flared, and for a second, I knew I'd fucked up and Kirill was getting in the last word.
