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There are more armed guards than guests at Whisper Glens. And I wish it was the typical Bratva wedding.
I sigh softly as I drive Paige’s Mercedes into the parking lot of the event venue. Ten years ago, Whisper Glens was a newly built eyesore of gray stucco, dark wood, and glass in a country-like setting of newly planted trees. Today, it looks like a modern office building for a tech start-up. No history or soul, and not a place I would’ve pictured Sonya booking her big wedding.
It’ll be the first time I see her since our mother’s death.
When she was little, Sonya talked about her big day in maximum detail. She wanted a white, sparkly gown with a long veil and a white ermine jacket draped over her shoulders. Her diamond ring would be bigger than her head, and she would dance the waltz the same as in a Disney movie, to a live band, not a DJ. She made me play the generic groom while she showed off to Mama. Instead of kissing the bride, I tickled Sonya until she lost her breath. I doubt today will resemble anything in her dreams.
Each entrance has a metal detector crowding each door, and uniformed security thoroughly checks each guest for weapons. I wonder if they’ll decorate the ridiculous gray metal arches with white roses for the bridal couple to exit through hand in hand.
I’m patted down, and a wand is waved over parts of my body most likely to conceal a gun. I put up with it with a tense grin. The hired security guard is satisfied that I don’t have a concealed weapon and nods me through. But when he turns to Paige with the wand in his hand, I growl at him. No man touches my pregnant wife if he wants to keep his fingers. I give him a look that says,I’ll use my bare hands to take you out. Averting his gaze, he nods her through immediately.
I offer my arm, and Paige grasps it with both hands and smirks as we follow the signs to the Fountain Room. She looks amazing in a pale blue dress that makes her eyes appear bluer, and her hair is pinned up to show off the diamond earrings I bought for her recently at auction. Smiling, I think back to the day we first met. She was dressed in those ridiculous pants and her hair was in a messy bun.
She was and is the most beautiful woman in the place.
It’s a transformation I knew Paige could pull off, and though I know she wants things to be different, I appreciate her for keeping her word and for making me look strong and elegant in public while everything back at the estate is in turmoil.
“Do you think they’ll have a priest officiating the ceremony?” she asks.
I glance around the mirror and glass lobby overcrowded with tall potted palms. The waiters, dressed in tight black jackets, serve cocktails to guests as the volume of voices slowly rises. “It might be anyone, judging by this crowd.”
It’s a young crowd, and I’m not referring to biological age. The people surrounding us are new wealth that’s acquired by taking life-threatening risks. Money is obtained through drugs, guns, and scams. Nothing is legit because they haven’t gotten a foothold yet. Flash mistaken for wealth. Logos mistaken for class. Loud voices mistaken for bravery.
Novikov’s men are milling about and very easy to spot. Of course, that’s intentional. Gleb wants their presence known to avoid trouble. That’s the only smart move I spot here. But then, the hairs on the back of my neck rise, and the air around me and Paige and thickens with palpable tension. Casually, I scan the room, and across the floor, I see Talia sipping a cocktail.
Watching Paige, she makes low comments to her entourage of bitchy women. Talia can’t tear my wife to shreds physically, so she tries to tear her down with words.Bitchandgold diggerfloat in our direction, but I ignore them. Paige stops walking and takes a deep breath.
I turn to her. “Paige, she can’t hurt you. And she knows it, and it makes her angry.”
Paige smiles, lifting her hands to my shoulders. “I know, Andrei. She can’t hurt me while I have you.”
She leans in, tilts her head, and gives me a kiss that raises my temperature. I wish I could stay like that forever, her lips on mine and her body pressing against me. When Paige pulls away, I smile at her like a stupid kid who’s just received his first kiss. Love makes all the difference.
Paige grins. “Let her think about that while she sits through the wedding.”
We don’t look in Talia’s direction. Why bother? Besides, that kiss wasn’t for her. It was for us. A sign of the unity that we have finally achieved after being through so much together. And I hope it also signifies our new trust.
An usher scurries in front of us in his bright white shirt and black vest. He motions for us to follow him to a door on the far left. His shifty eyes make him look desperate to get us to our seats as he quickly waves us toward the open doorway.
Paige stops in her tracks. “I’d like to speak to the bride first. Where is she?”
The man’s eyes widen until it looks like it’s painful. “I’m not sure about that.” He looks around nervously. “The ceremony is about to begin.”
“She’s the bride’s sister-in-law.” I stare him down easily.
The usher wavers and then directs Paige to a coatroom located down a hallway not too far from where we stand. I stand where I can keep an eye on both Talia and Paige.
Paige lingers outside the doorway and teeters on the brink of entering, but she stays outside the room. She gives someone inside a bright smile and waves before heading straight toward me with the usher on her heels.
“I’ll show you to your seats, Mr. and Mrs. Barinov.”
“Sonya was surrounded by her bridesmaids and several armed men,” Paige whispers as we walk. “She didn’t look happy.”
I stay silent instead of responding with a comment. It would be ironic to do so.
Inside the Fountain Room, the folding chairs are arranged in sections creating three aisles. The center aisle is blocked off with large floral arrangements of white flowers bound by heavy silver cords, and one cannot enter or exit through the chairs. The left and the right aisles are crowded with activity, and I notice those friendly to the Novikov Bratva are seated on the right side while those who aren’t are seated on the left. The right section is triple the size of the left.
Paige and I are seated in the back, and I don’t take offense at not being down in front for my sister’s wedding. I look around and spot Popov and Sorokin seated in the middle. They only came with their biggest men to watch over them.
