Page 28 of Lord of the Underworld

Mother was wrong about the Six Families. Whether it was because of sheer curiosity, or because that's just how things are done, the cathedral is full of the obscenely wealthy and offensively powerful, all watching avidly as I make my way to the altar in the careful 1-2-3 step Mr. Maurice had demanded.

Vadim is waiting there for me.

I did not think he could be more handsome than he had been in his suit that night, and I was incorrect. His tuxedo makes him look just as god-like. He's no pretty Instagram boy, or a rugged American cowboy-type model. He is sleek lethality in a tuxedo.

He's so beautiful that I slow my steps to better admire him. Embarrassingly, Anka has to poke me in the back to get me moving again. For one moment, I swear, I saw a flash of humor go across his polar gaze, but I could be wrong. I must be wrong. What would the Angel of Death find amusing?

Vadim takes my hands in his huge ones, holding them more gently than I'd expect. The warmth of his grasp is soothing, his calloused fingertips brushing my skin as he slides the ring onto my finger.

Calloused fingertips… There's the slightest flash of a memory, his fingers touching my skin, before it disappears under the onslaught of his sheer physical beauty.

I'm on autopilot, acutely aware of this man standing next to me as our rings are blessed by the priest. We take our lit candles and our attendants Stepan and Anka place the crowns on our heads. When we drink the sour wine from the common cup near the end of the ceremony, his sleeve brushes my bare shoulder, and I shiver.

Then, it's official. I am married to this beautiful, terrifying man. When Vadim's finger lifts my chin gently, I feel a surge of… something from him. Something that encloses us from all the avid, greedy stares of the wealthy and powerful watching this union. His mouth presses over mine in the softest of kisses, before he sharply bites my lower lip, and I barely control my yelp. He runs his tongue along it quickly and leans back, expressionless, as always.

I stare at him. Eyes wide, jaw dropped, no doubt looking like an utter simpleton. Because one kiss from my new husband was better than any self-administered orgasm I've ever had. As he takes my hand and leads me back down the aisle, there's only one thought left in my dazed brain.

I am already down in the Underworld with my dark God, and I have no desire to leave.

Chapter Thirteen

In which Oksana missed the peacocks but gained some excellent in-laws.

Oksana…

Vadim leads me toward the front doors of the cathedral, already thrown open wide and showing the long line of limos waiting there. Then, he makes an abrupt left, with several of his bodyguards following us.

Behind me, I hear a massive fanfare of trumpets, meant, no doubt, for our triumphant exit as husband and wife before the sound falters. My new husband's leading me through a maze of hallways until we're at a side exit. There's a matte charcoal-colored Maserati SUV there, engine running.

One of his black-suited men splits from the others surrounding us to open the door, and Vadim quickly helps me in.

When his door shuts behind him with a resounding 'clunk!' it's clear the Maserati is more heavily armored than a Brink's truck.

"Is this a kidnapping?" I ask.

His cool blue gaze meets mine. "A more secure departure."

"Thank you for saving me from the trumpet fanfare," I say. "Also, I'd overheard something about releasing trained white peacocks and I didn't want to be there to witness that."

He arches his brow in inquiry.

"You see, white doves released would be so pedestrian, so ordinary," I explain. "I'm not sure how they could train the peacocks to fly more than a foot or two. Picture Volkhonka Street in front of the cathedral cluttered with peacocks and the traffic-" I stop myself; I'm babbling.

I swear the slightest ghost of a smile passes over his lips and is gone again.

The drive back to The Carlton is silent, but I don't mind. He's not checking his phone and ignoring me, he's watchful, eyes examining every car and pedestrian as we pass them as if gauging for threats.

We don't pull up to the front of the hotel, the driver angles around to the back and as we stop, more black-suited men materialize to surround the car.

"Thorough," I say, eyeing his army.

This time, he catches my gaze and holds it. "You are mine now. You will always be safe."

My breath catches in my throat. "What did you-"

You will always be safe…

Why is that so familiar? The words, his tone. I've heard it before. More than once.