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Chapter 14
Stefan
I watch and survey the place as every item for the wedding is being walked into my front door, my bride to be given my bedroom suite as she prepares for our nuptials.
I should be reacting or preparing in some way as well, but I want this to be perfection. The woman who is going to show me a life of defiance and excitement is going to get the absolute best even if she only appreciates it later in life once she is madly in love with me. I am here to oversee every single piece of fabric, every flower, every decoration, and every person that comes in here. It is going to be quite a show, especially considering her parents have been invited. And something tells me they won’t miss it for the world. I do so like pissing shitty people off, and from what I gather, these are some of the shittiest; hypocritical southerners with too much money and time on their hands to dictate every moment of the lives of their children.
I smile as it all begins to come together; the colors perfect for her. I think she will love it. I remembered her telling me that she loved power colors when we first met, and so I made sure everything was inlaid with golds and deep reds, though with taste of course. Everything was broken up with the pure white that a wedding should always have. It doesn’t matter that I am no innocent, and neither is she, judging by the headlines she often ends up a part of. I am not sure if it is all in direct defiance of her father or if she just enjoys being wild; work hard, play hard. I can live the rest of my life on the philosophy.
In some twisted way, this is all romantic, the way I have picked her out as my dream woman. I am a hard and terrible man whose anger flares on a whim, not the type to go throwing my heart at women. Even my love of my own mother has its limits, and she had been the number one woman in my life since day one. She knows me and cares for me best. But maybe there is something there with Presley, just waiting in the background to bloom,
As soon as I am satisfied, and some guests begin to arrive, I disappear into one of the guest rooms where Silva is waiting for me. He is already in a plain black and white tux that I had ordered for him so he could be my best man. I don’t have many friends, nor should I expect to with the life I lead, but he is as close as it gets.
I eye the garment bag that hangs on the back of the door with a little tag dangling down, my last name strapped across it. Inside is my tux. I look good all the time; my status requires it, so I went out of my way to get something special for the occasion.
I unzip it and see, just as I asked, the colors are white and red, looking like blood splashing against perfect purity. It reminds me of many things; roses, blushing virgins, and even many a man I have killed, and it fits because I am made up of all of those things. I am wild, fun, and deadly. I just hope that is something she can come to terms with. I sure as hell know that no matter what face Isabella is wearing, she never would have been fully okay with me and what I do. She is part of this life and yet not, her father keeping her so protected and virginal, even as she watches her best friend become the mother of the heir to the Arcane throne.
She can try, but she will never be one of us.
“You look good,” Silva tells me after I have the tux on, shoes, and have my hair gelled just right. A little extra never hurts. “So, since your parents think you are already married, I am guessing they won’t be in attendance?” he pries.
I give him a side eye but can’t follow through with any threats. I am on a high right now and am not ready to come crashing down yet. I am getting what I want, like I always do, but the stakes are higher. This is life.
“I have my parents completely occupied. I sent them a belated gift for their wedding anniversary that gets them entirely out of the country. They are soaking up the sun in Costa Rica,” I tell him, a sly grin passing over my face. It will keep them off my back, hopefully, assuming they took the gift and left. But my mother wouldn’t pass up a vacation, I am sure of it. It doesn’t matter how annoyed my father is with me, he needs to keep her happy in their old age or she will drive him insane; especially isolated in Brazil like this. As I take on the Clan business, he will have nothing to do but relax with her. Only time will tell if they will continue putting up with each other. Just more proof that this crazy thing I am doing is the right thing for me.
I look at the time and know that I need to get out there and make sure the guests are happy, given champagne, and seated. I expect my bride will be fashionably late as she makes sure she looks her best, and I don’t want anyone getting rowdy waiting on her.
“Let’s do this,” I tell Silva, and he opens the door for me, holding it and motioning for me to walk out before him. I straighten my tie one last time and put on my signature smile, the one I use for business rather than anything real. But maybe one day soon I will know what a real one feels like.
It is loud and packed as everyone is filing in and getting their champagne served to them, some finding their seats and others mingling. I hear plenty of scandalous whispers, and it makes me chuckle under my breath, but then I see some of the Clan heads standing around and make a bee line for them. I had to make sure some of them were here so they could see the marriage was legit. They are already going to question who she is and where she came from as she is not Romanian or any kind of woman Ion or my father would match me with.
The first one I see is Anton, the only man that I know that is worse than me. And yet somehow, he was able to snatch a woman like Natasha who happens to be related to the Clans through her dead uncle, whom her husband killed, by the way.
Of course, at the time we believed that he was part of a plan to kill the queen herself, but it doesn't matter; he's a vicious man. And even though our queen is an amazing woman, tough-as-nails, Natasha is definitely queen bitch. With her bright red hair, she looks the part perfectly and has chosen to wear black for this day like it's some kind of funeral. It just makes me laugh.
I approach them and put my hand out to shake Anton's just as he's done whispering something in his wife's ear. “Wow, you clean up well,” he comments, taking some kind of jab at me ,I suppose. “How do you feel? I never thought we would see this day. I know your father's been harping on you for a long time to finally settle down. Where is the old man?“
“Otherwise occupied,” I answer with a shit eating grin. “and I was just taking my time, waiting for the right woman to come along. I'm pretty sure I have found her; though, I can't say that many of the Clan leaders will necessarily approve of her.”
“Those are the best ones, though,” Anton says letting out a belly laugh. “Times are changing, Dalca, might as well go with the flow.“
I pretend to laugh along before I scoot over to say hello to Marcel, who I can't help but notice is being stalked on the DL by none other than the woman who I was supposed to marry; Isabella. I roll my eyes before getting his attention, doubting that anything will ever come from her obsession with him considering all the secrets I know about her. Even if he would ever look her way and anything other than his little sisters’ best friend, the minute he found out her betrayal she would be dead in an alley way somewhere. The Funars have already seen way too much drama and pain for him to put up with a thing like that. But I'm sure she's going to keep on trying anyway.
“Thank you for coming, Marcel. I haven't got a chance to send my condolences yet for the loss of your father, but I do believe we are gaining quite a strong Clan leader, if you ask me.”
He looks at me and slouches against the wall casually, his hands in his pockets. “Thanks for the compliment. I don't know if everyone agrees or not, but I am certainly ready to see what I can do to shake things up a bit. I know Mariana is all for ringing in a new age with the Clans, and if the room was alright you might be going that direction to
I chuckle coyly, shaking my head and saying nothing. They will just have to see for themselves when the princess of the oil industry walks down the aisle to me shortly. And it looks like I don't have to avoid answering anyone long because that's when I hear a commotion, one of my men trying to calm down two screechy individuals who I can only assume are the Richards.
I rub my hands together like a cartoon villain before I coolly walking up to them from behind one of my men. I tap him on the shoulder and let him know that he is dismissed. I can handle this just fine.
“Mr. And Mrs. Richards, how nice to finally make your acquaintance.” I lay it on thick, but I wish that I had someone video recording this so I could play it back over and over because this is going to be fun. “I understand that you're upset that this union is so sudden. So, your daughter and I have not known each other very long I do I have full confidence that this is going to be a beautiful relationship, not just for us, but for our families. Why don't you come in and have a seat and relax; I will be sure to get you some champagne? The wedding is going to be starting soon.”
“There's not going to be any wedding!” Mr. Richards is so red in the face that I am concerned I may have to call an ambulance for him because he's going to have a heart attack. He looks like quite the fit old man, but I guess his daughter is fit to put him in an early grave, and I can't say I would mind. I have met his type before, in fact, I deal with his type in business every day. He puts on a front and makes his family do the same, sacrificing everything about themselves to paint a picture for investors. Even the Clans are guilty of such a thing, but we at least all know and admit the truth in private; we are all disgusting monsters. If he admitted that he would never be able to look at himself in the mirror again.
“How are we supposed to relax when our daughter is marrying someone that we have never heard of in a country she was not born in, and we haven't even seen or talked to her since she left for Brazil? I don't know if this is some kind of publicity stunt, or just another way of punishing her family, or if you've done something to make her do this, but I demand to see her now and take my daughter home.”
I had planned on being as kind as I could. But somewhere inside me I knew I was going to have to get harsh with her parents. From everything I've seen in the tabloids and what my sources tell me, she is the bane of her parents’ existence because she isn't like them. She is free and fun and wild; everything that they do not want to put on display because of the hypocrisy average people in the southern U.S. I did not choose my bride lightly and have been studying her for some time. And while I can't say if she'll ever forgive me if she finds out that I staged all of this, I do believe that she will be in much better hands in my house than she ever was in theirs.
“With all due respect, sir, your daughter is an adult, and she has chosen to marry me. It was also a mutual decision for her to surprise you with the invitation here rather than calling you. I am not going to let you ruin what is supposed to be the best day of her life. So, I suggest that both of you get some champagne, find a seat, and prepare for the wedding, because it is happening one way or the other. She has already signed her name on the marriage certificate. This is the real deal, and she will become a Brazilian citizen. It makes no matter to me personally whether you are here to see her say I do or not. So, keep acting like this in my house, and I will have you thrown out and tell my staff to never let you step foot here again. Your choice.”
Both of them go tight-lipped and say nothing else, and I know I have won, for now. I'm sure this is not the last I've heard from them, but today, it doesn't matter.
The music begins, and all the guests begin to settle. I spot my priest over in the corner and walk over to him, demanding to see that the paperwork is done. This is not going to go off with any hitch. Everything has to be perfect if I'm going to pull this off and keep pulling it off for the rest of my life. And if I don't get what I want, people tend to end up six feet under, or in the the case of Lajos, in the depths of the ocean.
