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The crowd is still cheering when I take Paige’s hand and escort her down the aisle and onto the lawn.
The stone path leads back to the house where the reception will be held. A tower of champagne flutes has been arranged on the patio. Just inside the house, I spy the huge, five-tiered wedding cake waiting to be cut.
Before the crowd descends on us, I turn to my wife and place my finger under her chin. I force her eyes up to mine.
“What’s going on?” I murmur.
“Our wedding. You didn’t notice?”
“I meant with you.” I narrow my eyes. “Something is off.”
“Nothing is off,” she says quickly. “I’m just a little tired. This dress is heavy.”
She’s lying. There is something going on in that beautiful head of hers. Before I can force it out of her, Nikita and my mother find us.
Nikita lays a gentle hand on Paige’s arm and pulls her into a hug. It’s a sentimental, caring gesture. One that I didn’t think Nikita was capable of performing, let alone with Paige.
I step back and leave them to it.
My bride spends the rest of the evening avoiding me, which turns out to be surprisingly easy to do at a wedding. She is greeting guests and shaking hands, laughing pleasantly at the jokes of all my men and allies. This party is her introduction to my world, and she is the center of it.
I watch her light up when Ilya runs to her. She fluffs her dress out and kneels down in the grass so she can pull him into a proper hug.
“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” my mother asks, appearing at my side out of nowhere.
“Yes,” I can’t help but agree.
“It’s a big responsibility to take a wife, Misha.”
“I know what my responsibilities are, Mother.”
She arches her brow. “Do you really, though?”
She walks away without clarifying what she means, but I understand well enough. She doubts me.
It’s no wonder. I’m not my brother.
Feeling restless, I walk around the garden until I find my sister indulging in what seems to be her fifth or tenth glass of champagne.
She’s flirting with one of my bodyguards under the shade of the weeping willow that flanks the house. The moment I approach, he sulks off without so much as a backwards glance, leaving Nikita looking less than pleased.
She rolls her eyes. “You and Maksim always had the worst timing.”
“What were you gonna do?” I ask. “Pull him around back and have your way with him?”
“I was going to use one of the bedrooms. You have so many of them.”
I wrinkle my nose in distaste. “He works for me, Niki.”
“Everyone works for you,” she complains.
“He’s not good enough for you.”
“Then tell me which guy is.” When I stay silent, she snorts. “Exactly. Do you think it’s easy for me to meet men? You think being the daughter and then the sister of a don is easy? Have you ever stopped to consider the fact that I might be lonely? And to clarify, unlike you, I don’t enjoy it.”
I frown. “I’m not lonely.”
She snorts again.
