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The side of his mouth quirks up sweetly. The man who taught me how to winGod of Waris back. His gaze is softening like it did so many times when we shared something special and private just between us two.
He bends to whisper in my ear, “Shut your lying-ass whore mouth.”
I’m too stunned to speak, my heart racing with every smooth turn he takes on the dance as another melodious love song fills the air. This man is different, unknown and scary. Not the cold, calculated lawyer who is rumored to be coldhearted and malicious on behalf of his clients, the main one being his best friend, and billionaire businessman, Angel who owns Cruz Construction and Transportation and rumored cartel kingpin; another is Shelby Holdings, the corporate and philanthropic wing of Shelby Sugar. Now I can fully see him as he is: the man he claimed he never wanted to be, the son of the devil that was Mathias Shelby Senior.
When his daddy died last year, I said nothing when Mathias used that tragedy to launch his campaign. I knew as he told the press a few days after his father died in a plane crash, he was heartbroken but still intended to throw his hat in the ring. It was the farthest thing from the truth. First, Mathias couldn’t care less that his tormentor died, and two, he was the first Shelby since they switched from Dixiecrat to Republican after The Civil Rights Movement to be a Democrat, and his father would have disowned him for it, which is what he wanted —to humiliate his father, then systematically destroy everything he built.
As the song comes to an end, Mathias pulls back to smile softly down at me. “Tell me, little wife, is it everything you dreamed when you plotted with your cousin?”
ChapterSeven
Mathias
Steeringmy curvy little liar off the dance floor, I see a throng of people gathered at the edges to wish us well. And wouldn’t I know it, among them is Marcus, Nikki’s jilted boyfriend. I almost admire the cool assessing stare he trains on us.
I can feel the moment my wife notices him. She barely had time to explain to her date what was going on before we were swept away to the war room LL set up to deal with the fallout of those pictures.
“Mathias,” she whispers to me as I make no move to change direction. We’ll see if her boyfriend gives a fuck enough to make a scene. I make no move to hide the fact I find him loathsome.
“Sommerland.” His eyes narrow slightly at the quirk of my lips. Not that it was ever a competition, but when he fucked her, I know she thought of me. He was a mere stand-in for what she really wanted.
“Shelby.” He gives me a brief once-over as if he’s barely tolerating my presence. “Mrs. Shelby.” He’s all indulgence as he moves to take her hand.
I block him, taking his firm grip in my crushing one. He doesn’t even flinch. I feel a modicum of grudging respect at that, but still. “Don’t touch my fucking wife.” I give him a smooth smile in case the press is watching from the area where we have them cordoned off.
Nikki’s aghast look a moment before she covers it is blocked by me. Thankfully, she’s nearly a foot shorter than us both, so no one can see her. I make a note to start her media training immediately. It won’t do us any good if she keeps showing her every thought on her face.
“Nikki, I know today has been a lot for you.” He slides me a glance. “But I want you to know you can always consider me a friend.” He actually looks sincere. The fact he is even here is a sign he didn’t deserve her—to be so easily swayed to give her up? Laughable.
“Th-thank you, Marcus.” Her eyes are shining, and damn if there isn’t a little sadness there.
Collateral damage never felt so good, I think, watching his somber face as he gives her a nod of acknowledgment before walking away.
“Hm. Your boyfriend took it well. You seem really torn up about it, little wife.” My snide remark makes her look away.
Several more well-wishers follow Sommerland, all exuding real surprise at the union, unable to hide their curiosity around the salacious story.
One of the numerous aides to the wedding planner sidles up beside us. “Time to cut the cake.” How they orchestrate these things with military precision never ceases to amaze me.
My mind strays to Natalie’s excitement a few days ago, when she was telling me about some odd thing or another she and the planner had come up with to pay homage to my bastard father during our wedding, which will now never take place.
Oddly enough, the only feelings I have on that front are relief and regret that Natalie got hurt because of this.
Taking my place with Nikki, Angel, and Easy, I slice the cake before taking a piece and pressing it into the lush pillows of my wife’s mouth. I shove down the fact I’m happy as hell I’m not fucking Natalie tonight as my dick lengthens and hardens when Nikki’s wet lips cover my fingers, licking away the buttercream.
We enter the bridal suite,hastily booked but well-appointed, at the Shelby Hotel. It’s a cute little boutique place run by one of my father’s former mistresses, Yvette, a retired Swiss model he somehow cajoled into giving up her career—probably with promises of becoming the next Mrs. Shelby, which I would have gladly told her was a pipe dream.
“Allow me,” says the handsome older woman ushering us into the room, which overlooks the city center on the Shelby side of the county.
Everything here speaks of old Southern charm. We were able to keep a lot of our historic buildings in Shelby-Love due to the Union Army not making it this far from either Birmingham or Mobile.
“This room is beautiful for a night as special as this.” She beams at us both.
I nod encouragingly to her. Nikki is trembling beneath my touch on her shoulder.
“The most exceptional feature is the balcony overlooking the entire city.” Her smiles softens as she looks at both of us. “It’s perfect for breakfast.”
I’ll have to text LL and tell him to get someone out here in the morning to take pictures of the newlyweds having a romantic breakfast.
