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She remembered Nicholas’s instructions. She couldn’t quite manage a smile, but she could keep her face blank. Get through this, that was all she had to do. Just get through this and don’t throw up. What amazing wedding memories she’d have to look back on—hoping not to throw up on her magical day.
“Face each other,” Papa Dimitri ordered. They did, and Nicholas took her hands in his. They were large and warm as they enveloped her smaller ones.
“Do you take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife?” Papa Dimitri asked.
“I do,” Nicholas intoned solemnly, looking into Sloane’s eyes. Wait, wasn’t there supposed to be more leading up to it before they got to this part? But she blinked and swallowed and looked back at him.
He fumbled in his pocket and handed her a gold ring. She blinked up at him in surprise.
“My parents’ rings,” he mumbled. Nicholas slipped a simple gold band on her finger. It was a little large, but it fit.
“Excellent. Now, wifey, wife. Do you promise to obey your husband and suck him off whenever he so wishes?” Papa Dimitri laughed.
Sloane’s mouth dropped open, her eyes flying back and forth between Papa Dimitri and Nicholas. Nicholas had the grace to cringe and his jaw went hard.
Path of least resistance. Path of least resistance.
“I-I do,” she sputtered. With shaking fingers, she put the ring on his fourth finger. She struggled a little getting it over the knuckle, but it finally fit.
“I now pronounce you man and wife! You may kiss the bride.”
Nicholas leaned forward and planted a perfunctory kiss on her lips.
“Oh come on, man,” Papa Dimitri scoffed. “How do you plan to make any sons kissing your woman like that?”
Before Sloane could even take a proper breath, Nicholas had taken her again in his arms, dipped her backwards, and kissed her like he meant it. She kissed him back, hating the others were looking on and whistling and whooping, but still lost in the heat of Nicholas’s mouth.
And then she was put a-right again, her face hot, her entire body flushed. Her hand went to her mouth without her meaning for it to, but thankfully, the farce was apparently now over.
The music changed to a more festive, dance beat, but lowered as soon as Papa Dimitri raised his arms to make an announcement. “To celebrate, the after party will be held at my son Alexei’s nightclub. Everyone get your asses there!”
Sloane tugged on Nicholas’s arm and looked up at him in alarm. He couldn’t mean them. The only reason she hadn’t completely lost her shit was because all of this had happened in the same building. She’d been managing her anxiety by avoiding looking at the one wall of windows open to the frantic street beyond of cars and passersby.
Nicholas nodded, but his face was tense. “I’ll talk to him,” he said. “Stay here.”
She nodded, even though losing contact with him freaked her out as everyone started streaming around her out the front door of the restaurant and spilling out into the street beyond.
“What?” Papa Dimitri said loudly. “The bride and groom have to be there.” Then Dimitri’s eyes sought her out through the crowd. “It’s only a block down,” she heard him say.
And that was her last straw. She started shaking her head no and backing away. No. No, not if it meant going outside.
Papa Dimitri’s easy smile disappeared and he glowered her direction. Then he snapped his fingers and the two bodyguards who always seemed to be nearby came to attention. He whispered to them and then they came towards her. She backed up even further as Nicholas said something else to Papa. But it didn’t matter. The men didn’t stop.
And even though she turned, her instinctive fight or flight triggered, she didn’t even have time to run before they’d grabbed her on either side.
“Take her out through the alleyway,” Papa Dimitri called. “I don’t want a scene.”
“No, no please!” she shouted as they dragged her through the back of the store. “Nicholas!” she screeched.
But he stayed back, talking to Papa Dimitri, gesturing emphatically with his hands.
“Wait, no, no, please!” she cried, but the men didn’t stop.
She was dragged through the kitchen with no consideration to her pleas. She’d never been so out of control of her own body. How was this happening? Why wasn’t Nicholas stopping it? It meant he didn’t have the power to—dear God, if he didn’t, then what else might happen to her he didn’t have the power to stop?
The men shoved open the exit to the back door and then she was out.
She screamed the second the night air hit her skin.
Sanity left.
She fought and panicked like a wild animal. She kicked and fought and scratched and screamed and bit and screamed and screamed—
“It’s okay, Sloane, Sloane! It’s me! It’s Nicholas!”
