Page 87 of Maximum Bet

Cassandra molds herself to my side. I know she’s grappling with the idea that good men lost their lives keeping us safe.

“They knew the risks,” I whisper into her ear.

“That doesn’t make it better.” With her eyes downcast, she picks at the stained lace on her dress.

Not for the first time, my gut twists when I realize Cassandra’s perfect day was ruined. Every bride deserves to be a queen, dressed in a beautiful gown and adorned with jewels, without leaving their ceremony covered in blood.

“Hey, guys, I hate to be that guy, but Amanda is wondering what’s going to happen now.” Marco lifts his phone to show the text thread with his wife.

Leo raises his brows as he scans the area, calculating the cleanup effort ahead of us. “We do have a ballroom’s worth of guests waiting for Mr. and Mrs. Tariello to make an entrance.”

“What do they know?” I ask, considering how the hell we’re even going to continue with the wedding.

“Well, the majority of our guests arebusinessallies,” Leo says. “However, for the few that aren’t, we gave a loose explanation involving a failed acquisition with a questionable source. We explained that the two of you are fine, just secluded until we know the threat is under control. Lucas had a crew go through mobile devices and delete photos and videos from the incident.”

“So?” I peer down at Cassandra. “What do you think? Should we attend our reception?”

Her mouth drops open as she gestures to her gown. “Looking like this?”

Marco shrugs. “I mean, it’s kind of badass. Sends a real ‘don’t fuck with us’ message through the underworld.”

I cock a brow. He has a point.

She sucks her lip between her teeth as she weighs her options. When her eyes meet mine, they shine with devious electricity.

“Why not?”

With pride, I steer my bride toward the elevator bank. No other woman could be a more perfect fit to lead our organization. Not for the first time, I realize I am the luckiest bastard in the world.

Chapter 32

Cassandra

Waiting outside the reception ballroom, I glance over my reflection in a decorative mirror.

I’m disgusting. Covered in the blood of my enemy, looking like something out of a horror film instead of the blushing bride I am expected to be.

But I don’t care.

Behind the carnage and the unbearable loss, I feel something I haven’t felt since Alexsey Kozlova first approached me in the lobby of Il Palazzo.

Relief.

We truly and finally defeated the Bratva. Anatoliy Kozlova is dead, and from what we know, the closest heir to take his seat is his seven-year-old son. Between today’s battle and the fire in Mexico, only a few inexperienced brigadiers remain. We’ve created a power vacuum that won’t right itself soon.

As for the Medina Cartel, Dominic, Nico, and Leo are already putting together a plan for Esteban Perez. According to my father’s intel, he fled the country as soon as things started togo south for his men in Las Vegas. Without Anatoliy, Perez may not be a major threat.

“Oh, sweet Jesus!” Natalie rushes toward me, pulling my attention to my current predicament. “What the hell happened?”

I laugh. “Honestly, I don’t think you want to know.”

Her horror-stricken expression confirms my assessment that she absolutely does not need the full story.

“Do you want me to find you a new dress? We could . . . good lord, Cassie. I don’t even know how to fix this.”

“No.” Dominic joins my side, settling his arm around my waist. “She’s beautiful just the way she is.”

Natalie glances between us as if we’ve both lost our minds but acquiesces. After all, who is she to tell the most powerful couple in Las Vegas what to do?