That’sallyou’re doing.
Get this over with and get whatever intel you can and go back home as soon as possible.
That’sit.
Music began after a long moment of waiting there, and with the prompt of one of the ushers at the small gathering, I headed down the aisle.
No fanfare. No bouquet.
I marched toward Maksim and tried to catalog who was where.
Members of the Volkovs.
Guests of other families.
Mentally, I tracked all the details that I could about who was where.
“Let me guess,” Maksim whispered once I reached him. The music stopped, and the officiant began to speak next to us. As my fiancé took my hand, jarring me with his touch, he proved that he didn’t intend to dwell on anything except getting this over with as well. “This isn’t the grand wedding that a princess like you always imagined.”
Like I was business to handle. Thiswasbusiness, but I wasn’t going to let him think he was getting under my skin, goading me.
I didn’t react, staring him down, intrigued that he was taking this moment to talk to me while the officiant went on and on.
“I didn’t think your brother would send you withno oneto witness from your end.”
I didn’t think so either, but it hardly mattered now, did it? “And here I’m curious why your father isn’t here to witness it either,” I whispered back. As the Pakhan, he should’ve been present. Redirecting the conversation to his family reduced the sting of fully knowing no one from mine was here.
He tilted his head to the side. “He’s unable to make it.”
“Hmm. Guess it would get crowded. What with Adrik’s new wife here. And that has to be Lev and Nikolai behind you, correct? The younger spares.”
He raised one brow. “Spares?”
I was giving away that I wasn’t some brainless idiot but knowledgeable about this underworld we lived in. Including who was who—or being able to guess at them and see them without my brother telling me to stay out of the way. But it was bound to be a fact sooner or later. If he had been counting on my being a typical Cartel princess who knew nothing about the business, he was in for a surprise. “I suppose seeing Stefan Rossi in attendance as a guest means it’s not merely a rumor that your Bratva has old ties with the East Coast.”
He smirked and glanced at the officiant to insert his mandatory“I do” when prompted, taking my hand and shoving a ring on my finger.
A second later, I was summoned to reply in kind, putting a band on his finger with my “I do.” I made sure to sugar coat it just to peeve him.
Before we could bicker or whisper heatedly up here any further, Maksim tugged my hand. He took it so roughly, so impatiently, that he urged me closer to him. “You might talk sweet and put on a good act, but watch it,Wife.” He leaned toward me, eyeing my lips and making my heart race faster.
I resisted the instinct to frown at how badly I looked forward to his lips on mine.
I tamped down the need to smile and let him know I wasn’t numb and impervious to a kiss from him.
This didn’t feel like merely playing along anymore.
Or if we were, I’d lost track of the rules of the game.
Slowly and steadily, he hauled me toward him. We’d meet in the middle, in a kiss to seal this hasty production of a wedding.
It was illegal how much I wanted it. A kiss fromhim. Right when we were arguing and glowering at each other through these stupid vows I barely heard.
“Watch it,” he repeated before smashing his mouth to mine.
Heat swept through me. Brutally. Deliciously. Wickedly.
And it was over. Too soon, it was over.
