Page 144 of Inked in Devotion

There was no mockery in his words, only humor, so I didn’t read too much into it.

“Congratulations,” he said to Chloe, and then extended his hand to me.

We exchanged handshakes.

Firm.

Like we meant it.

Aralina continued looking on, smiling widely too. She was the first to race out of the house to greet us when we returned.

I put my arm around Aralina. “You okay?”

“We need to talk about the bachelorette party.” Lucy strode in.

“Where’s Kirill?” I asked.

“He returned to Manhattan to smooth out a few ruffled feathers.”

“Heard you guys caused quite a ruckus in the city,” Theo said.

“You didn’t see that in the news, though,” Lucy pointed out.

“Oh, was that you controlling the narrative?” Chloe asked.

Lucy made an elaborate bow. “News reported a gang-related incident.”

We had two severely injured but stable bratva soldiers who were convalescing in the medical facility of Ivan’s compound. The NYPD—just for show and public appeasement—had detained Feliks and Lev and a couple of Cassano’s men. They would be out within forty-eight hours. As for those who died from the Vozhokari and the mercenaries, the bodies were on planes back to Russia and Europe.

Sato was taking care of Xiarra’s and Marena’s bodies. Wilson Ltd was undergoing new leadership. Maksim was handling that transition. Again, so glad it wasn’t my shit to deal with.

“Can I steal Chloe and Aralina for a few minutes?” Lucy asked.

Theo and I shrugged.

As the women walked away, I heard Lucy say, “Ophelia’s flight is arriving tomorrow morning. Either we let her recover from the jet lag, or Aralina will be hungover on her wedding day.”

The women laughed.

Oh, that was right. Lucy hadn’t met Ophelia. Maksim’s wife wasn’t able to attend her wedding to Kirill. Wait, was Ophelia still his wife?

Fuck, I worried about this shit now? People come and go, and that was why my loyalty was to the bratva. Since I was married to Chloe, Theo was essentially my brother-in-law. I cleared my throat. “Do you want a bachelor party?”

Man, that question was hard to get out. It was a serious question. My awkwardness didn’t get past Theo. A rough laugh escaped him. “No offense, but if you’re planning one, then I’ll pass.”

“Should I be offended, King?” My mouth twitched.

“You shouldn’t,” he muttered. “Look, I’m not much older than you, but I sure as hell feel ancient when it comes to these...activities.”

He left himself open there, but I wasn’t going down that road to antagonize Chloe’s brother. Huge age gaps were nothing new with the bratva because Ivan was in his thirties when he married an eighteen-year-old Irina. That was why the age difference didn’t bother them. I was nine years older than Chloe.

“Frivolities? Trivialities.”

“Listen, let’s just have a drink among family, okay?” he said. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I don’t like Chloe or Aralina having to feel they have to pick sides between us because men can be such knuckleheads.” He paused, and our eyes locked. A telltale smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. “All right, I’m sorry that I have been such a dick about the bratva.”

“Don’t choke on your words.” I needed a drink. Hell, I think Theo needed a drink.

“No, really,” Theo said with all the solemnness of a priest at a confessional. “Clearly, you have what it takes to protect Chloe and Sebastian. That’s all that matters to me. You need anything, and I mean anything, just let me know. I really want to make it up to my sister.”