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The photographer walks away, and Santos comes up to me, sliding his arm around my waist in the process. “What happened with your father?” I question him, keeping my voice as quiet as a mere whisper.
He sighs heavily. “He told me Lu died, and then he was upset that Alejandro is here.”
I turn my head slightly to look at him, noticing there’s stress wearing on his face. “He has the audacity to bring that up today?” I’m speaking about both matters: his bitch’s head getting delivered to him and the fact his arch-nemesis is in attendance.
“He has the nerve to do whatever the hell he wants. I put him in his place and told him he needs to keep his cool today.”
I lick my lips and try to think about what the fuck I’m going to say to my husband, but I’m furious. His father has no self-control, and the more I know about Julio, the more I see it. He’s a loose end, and he’ll need to be handled. There isn’t going to be another way around it. Eventually, I’m going to have to tell Santos that we’ll need to deal with his father, but I’m not going to bring that up today.
Today we should be smiling. We should be happy. We should be joyous. Basically, I’ll hide anything that’s giving me an ounce of stress until tomorrow. We have hundreds of guests in attendance, and I don’t want them to see anything.
“He’ll keep his cool because he doesn’t have another option.” I smile as I speak because I know we have eyes on us.
“Exactly. He can act a selfish fool another time, but not on this day,” Santos confirms, and as he finishes speaking, his Great-Uncle Alejandro walks up with his Great-Aunt Sofia.
“Your wedding was so beautiful. I hope you have many, many years of happiness,” Sofia tells me, and her husband, Desmond, comes walking up with a cane beside her.
“Aye, the two of you will be blessed for many years to come. It’s a hard thing to find anyone these days,” Desmond chimes in, and I smile brightly.
“Thank you. I’m sure we can all agree that we’re to be kind to each other’s families,” I speak up, looking at each of them in the eye.
“Lass, today isn’t the time to be discussing business, but since you’re so adamant about working all of the time, yes, you have nothing to worry about from us. Alejandro spoke to me about the visit from a couple weeks back.”
I swallow hard, hoping Desmond keeps his voice low. “There will be another time when we can discuss that in further detail, without prying eyes and ears from others, one set in particular,” I state.
Alejandro chuckles lowly. “He’s so threatened by anything, it seems. I’m certain us merely congratulating the two of you on your union is enough for him to worry for ages.”
“It could be,” I suggest.
“There’s no doubt about it,” Santos says, obviously growing more irritated by the moment. I’m finally getting an idea of what it must’ve been like being his father’s child. Then I think about it, and Santos has been put in the backseat his entire life. His father isn’t much different than my mother. Hell, maybe it’ll help the two of us bond more. Maybe it even explains why we’re such a good match together and why we get along so well.
I’m caught thinking about the way he kissed me during our ceremony and how delicately he touched me. Even now, with his arm draped around my waist, it isn’t a dominating touch. It isn’t one that feels forceful in the slightest, and I need him to be patient with me… especially when we discuss providing heirs. There’s something I haven’t told Santos, and it’s going to be a shocker, I’m sure. I’m a little bit embarrassed to tell him, though I’m certain he’ll understand the culture and climate I grew up in. It’s not uncommon for Chechen women to remain virgins until they’re married, but in this day and age, I’m sure it might seem a little bit odd.
Out of nowhere, there’s a loud noise right against my ear, and the next thing I know, Santos’ body is covering my own, and we’re on the floor. “Stay down. Do not get up until I tell you!” Santos yells into my ear, but I don’t take it as if he’s being rude in the slightest. The warmth of his body is suddenly gone, and I’m doing as he says, staying on the floor.
Gunshots ring out, and then someone yells something I can’t make out. Moments slowly pass by, and anxiety rolls in the middle of my gut. Then, finally, someone touches me, and I jolt, terrified it isn’t someone I can trust.
“Relax, mi amor, it’s only me.” Santos’ calming voice does wonders, and he helps me get up from the floor.
“What happened?” I ask, looking around the place as guests are up against the walls and my brothers are taking turns kicking someone in the stomach. Nazyr, Lom, and Ruslan go one after the other, and the man groans in pain.
“That man just tried to assassinate you. Do you know him?” My husband questions me, and I walk a little bit closer, noticing Santos has a gun in his hand. “Santos, is that his gun?”
Santos nods.
I spot Goran a few feet away and wave him over. My right-hand man rushes over to me. “My apologies, Miss Eset. I should’ve seen this coming.”
“Nonsense. Not one of us saw this coming. It’s my wedding day with allies, family, and friends. Who would’ve known an enemy would be in our midst?” Goran shakes his head at my words, feeling sorry for himself for “failing” as he’s choosing to see it through his eyes.
There’s nothing I can say that will make him feel better, and it’s not my job to coddle a grown-ass man, especially when I was the one who was almost killed. “Take this gun and see what you can find on it. There’s a possibility it’s been scrubbed, but if the numbers are on it, we might be able to track some pertinent details.”
“Yes, Miss Eset,” Goran states, and my husband hands the gun over to Goran. I notice the way Santos keeps his eyes pinned on Goran.
“What is it?” I grumble at Santos, and he looks down at me.
“There’s something about him that I don’t like. I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t trust him, Eset.” I don’t have time to coax my husband into trusting the man who’s protected me more times than I can count, so I huff and walk over to where my brothers are.
“What do you know?” I ask any of my brothers who will answer.
