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“Fuck.”
His dark eyes glowed with amusement. “You think she’s planning something.”
“I wouldn't put it past her. She's just as clever as Liam.”
“That's to be expected. She has the traitor's blood.”
I felt the muscles in my jaw pulsing, gritted my teeth, and clenched my hands tighter. This was the flip side of family: blood ties, history … when one went down, the rest followed. The status of innocent or guilty no longer mattered.
Unfortunately, she had to bear the consequences of the sins her cousin had committed. Either I killed Liam, or she married me. That was her fate, and nothing she did could change it.
Viktor scoffed beside me, his slick hair glinting under the ceiling lights. “She can't run away, even if she tried. We have the place surrounded. If you want, I can go and get her myself ...”
“No.” I stopped him. The suspense was killing me. I itched to stomp back into the house, into her bedroom, yank her out by the arm—or her long hair—whichever sufficed—and drag her to the altar myself.
No one had ever dared to keep me waiting for this long. No one!
But Viktor was right.
I had to give it time—patience.
She couldn't escape. I had placed my men everywhere, in every corner of the property. Security was tight. And even if she made a foolish attempt to run away, I knew without a doubt that she wouldn't leave Liam behind.
And the best part? She didn't know where we were keeping the bastard.
“How many more—”
My impatience was trampled by a slight sneeze from a red-haired woman sitting in the front row on the left side of the aisle. Those were the seats reserved for the bride’s family, but since my bride had no family except one who was being held captive, I had expected them to be empty. On the other side of the aisle, the groom's side, men, and women were sitting with faces like this was a funeral.
My brows rose and I threw Vicktor a what-the-fuck-look and said, “There better be a good reason why she’s here.”
He rubbed the back of his tattooed neck and stared at her with half-lidded eyes but not for long. “She insisted on being here for her best friend. You know how fucking sentimental women get on wedding days.”
I assessed him, my conspicuous gaze settling on him. “You couldn’t say no?”
He shook his head and put both hands in his pockets. He looked like a dog on a leash, longing for his freedom. “Funny thing is, I did. I told her no as many times as I’ve had Olga come in the fucking pantry—and it’s been a lot of times—but—”
“Jesus.” My tongue tsked against my teeth as I turned away from him. “You’ve been fucking the maid.”
“Might not look it, but she’s sweet in the middle.” He dragged a hand down his face. “The point is, Ava insisted on showing up.”
I eyed the redhead who sat alone, representing the significance of the empty rows, with her hands fidgeting nervously on her knees. She seemed flustered.
“You bought her a fucking dress too? Your dick clearly got the better of you!” I hissed.
I noticed his feet move slightly and he squinted, but before he could answer, the transparent doors opened and Juliana walked slowly and solemnly down the aisle, looking angelic, like the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
My pent-up tension and anger fizzled out as her larger-than-life amber eyes captivated me and drew me in with an irresistible force. Fuck! She was the epitome of beauty, grace, and elegance. A vibrant mix of white and green—the bright colors of the plants and flowers entwining the walls. Her lace-trimmed white dress flowed around her, and a bouquet of white tulips hung limply in her grasp.
When she reached the podium Viktor signaled the priest to commence with the ceremony.
It was time to exchange vows and I was to recite mine first. Being the perfectionist that I was, the words Viktor and I had rehearsed all night came easily to my lips.
I promise to hold and to cherish you, to protect you ...
She looked up at me from under her long lashes, her gaze burning hot on my face. As if she were testing and evaluating the transparency of my words to see if I was serious.
Oh, I was serious, krasotka.
