Page 4 of Claimed By the Silver Fox

She might not know it yet, the extent of everything that will be waiting for her in this world, but she will learn, one way or another. Better to do it with me than to wait for someone who will cause her nothing but pain.

The priest makes his way through the rest of the ceremony, and she clings to my hand so tightly it’s like she thinks it’s some kind of anchor in a storm. She doesn’t move her gaze from mine for an instant, as though she might vanish into thin air if she dares break my stare. There’s so much I want to say to her, and no doubt so many questions that she has for me.

As soon as I have the chance, I will tell her all of it, but right now, I just need the world to see that she has my protection. That nobody will be able to get close to her without paying the price.

We exchange our rings, and I slip the simple silver band over her finger, bringing it close to the engagement ring I’m sure Andreo spent a small fortune on. She puts mine on too, and for a moment, all I can notice is how much smaller her hands are than mine, how delicate she is, how vulnerable. How much I will need to do in order to keep her safe…

“You may kiss the bride,” the priest announces at last.

Fuck—this is the part I’ve been trying not to think about, but the part that I know I have to see through. I glance to the assembled crowd. I can’t dodge this, can’t pull off a kiss on the cheek. Everyone here has to think that I will do anything for her, so the word will spread that she is not a target they can go after.

Her blue eyes gaze up at me, daring me, it seems, to do what I have just been told. And even if it goes against so many of my instincts to even look twice at a woman I know my son has been with, I have to.

I turn to her and slip my hands to either side of her face, thumbs on her cheeks. Her skin is soft like the purest silk, and her lips part slightly at my touch. Her cheeks are flushed a little pink, and I have to try and ignore the way that makes me feel, seeing her respond to me, the alchemy of a beautiful woman reacting to the way I touch her.

I close my eyes, lean forward, and at last, plant my lips against hers.

It’s just a brief kiss, long enough to make it seem real—but I feel it in every inch of my body, coursing through me like electricity sent through a live wire. Her mouth is warm, soft, the scent of florals emanating from the bouquet she’s holding. Or maybe that’s just the scent of her, something fresh from the earth, turned up like a seedling just planted. Something stirs deep at the base of my spine, and I do my level best to ignore it, knowing that to entertain it would only get me in more trouble than I could handle.

I turn away from her as soon as I pull back, knowing that letting myself linger any longer than I already have is a bad idea.

She reaches for my hand, and I feel the clink of her wedding ring against mine, almost surreal in how impossible it feels. I have never been married before, never wanted to be, and the idea that I’m going to have to call myself the husband of a woman I barely know, a woman who thought she would be marrying my son today, it’s…it’s beyond bizarre.

But I keep my gaze fixed ahead as we make our way down the aisle, the band striking up their music to fill the air again, the mutters of the crowd picking up as we walk past. Let them talk. They can say what they want.

All that matters is that I have done what needs to be done.

The cold air hits me outside the church, the gray clouds having broken through the blue sky above. Julia tightens her grip on me, as though making certain that I’m not going anywhere.

And I have no intention of being anywhere other than at her side, at least for tonight. I know what might be expected on a wedding night, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to see it through. The ring is on her finger, and that’s all that matters, all that could matter.

At least, that’s what I have to tell myself, as I walk over to the sleek black car I arrived here in, and pull open the door for her.

3

JULIA

I stare dumbly at the car as he stands there patiently, waiting for me to take a step forward. My head is still throbbing, the kiss still pulsing against my mouth, the shock of it all coursing through me until it feels like there’s no room for anything else.

“Come on,” he tells me, and I can hear in his voice that he’s trying to be patient, but he must be having a hard time, given the circumstances.

I stumble forward, doing as I’m told, wanting nothing more than to get away from here, from the place where it all happened.

I take the front seat opposite him, and he climbs in beside me, taking the wheel, his gaze fixed ahead as we drive away from the church. I glance back toward the building. This is hardly how I imagined my life after my marriage going. I had pictured tins clattering behind a car, holding hands with my husband, laughing as we thought of everything that our lives together would involve.

And instead, here I am, sitting with the man I thought was going to be my father-in-law, with a ring on my finger—and no fucking idea what is going on.

As we pass the end of the street, something snaps inside of me, and I turn to him, eyes narrowing. “Uh, are you going to explain to me what the fuck is going on?”

He doesn’t move his gaze from the road, as though it’s the last thing he wants to discuss with me right now.

“Excuse me, in case you didn’t notice, I’m your wife,” I snap at him, almost flippantly. The words feel close to a joke coming out of my mouth, but I don’t care. He’s the one who went through with this, the one who did this, the one who fucking married me when his son didn’t turn up on the day of our wedding.

I glance behind me, wondering what Anna is making of all of this, but my phone is back in the apartment and I don’t have any way to get in touch with her.

“I know you are,” he growls back, his voice low. And something about his tone silences me in an instant.

I don’t know Antonio well. I’ve only met him a few times, as if Andreo, for whatever reason, wanted me to keep my distance from his father.