AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Benedetto Furino is here,” my father says, pushing past me to pace across my room to the window. “He brought two of his men.”
I check the hallway for any sign of Eve and then close the door with a sigh. “Were they searched?”
He nods. “Clean.”
“That’s good, I guess.” I grab my jacket from the bed and slide my arms into it, shrugging it on.
“Everything is going to plan. So far,” he adds, eyebrows raised.
I don’t need another reminder that if this wedding goes south, it is on my head. My father has made that clear enough over the last few days.
“If you’re nervous, maybe we should just remove the Furinos,” I suggest. “There is no risk if they aren’t here.”
My father shakes his head and bumps me aside to check his own appearance in the standing mirror. He pulls on the lapels of his suit and runs a hand through his gelled hair. “We can’t. If we want to have the kind of good will this deal is supposed to foster, the Furinos have to be here.”
I know he is right, but I can’t forget the way Benedetto talked about his daughter that night at the bar. He acted as though she was nothing more than a commodity, a token he could exchange for a prize. Clearly, he doesn’t love her the way a father should, so I hate the idea that he’ll be filling that role today.
“Besides, I’ve been thinking about it,” my father says, turning towards me and straightening my tie like I’m a little kid again. “This wedding could do big things for our family, but if it all becomes too much and Eve gives us any trouble, she’ll be easy enough to dispose of.”
My jaw clenches, and my hands close into fists inside my pockets.
“Pretty low stakes overall,” he says, as if killing Eve is nothing.
I want to wrap my hand around his neck and pin him to the wall. I want to make him take back his words. But it doesn’t matter. He won’t ever get the chance to hurt Eve. I won’t allow it.
“I need to finish getting ready,” I say, walking over to the door and pulling it open. “I’ll see you out there.”
Either he doesn’t notice my barely restrained anger or he doesn’t want to push me on my wedding day, but my father leaves without argument. Once he is gone, I try to conceal my gun in my tux, but it is too fitted. The holster doesn’t work with the fitted pants. But I don’t want to go out there unarmed. I know our men are checking everyone at the gates, and how much damage can Benedetto and two of his men really do when they are surrounded and vastly outnumbered by Volkov soldiers? Still, maybe I can at least keep my switchblade on me. Just in case.
Before I can reach for the blade sitting on top of the dresser, my door opens again. I turn, expecting it to be my father again, but instead, I see Eve.
She closes the door and presses herself against the back of it, and I’m frozen, staring at the curve of her legs sticking out beneath her tiny white silk slip. She looks like a dream. A dream I’ve been having every night for the last week. Now, there definitely isn’t room for anything else in my pants. I adjust my stance so Eve won’t notice.
The floor creaks, and she looks up and then yelps and claps both hands over her mouth. Her cheeks redden instantly. “I didn’t know you were in here.”
She grabs the doorknob, but I shake my head. “It’s okay. You can be in here.”
Her hand freezes and then falls, clapping against her skin. She seems to remember all at once that she is basically naked, and she tugs on the short hem of her slip, trying in vain to cover more of her skin. “I just needed a second away from…everyone. I thought you’d already be downstairs.”
“I was headed that way,” I say, admiring the soft waves in her chestnut brown hair and the pink stain on her lips. I pull my eyes away and blink, trying to keep my head clear. “Who was bothering you?”
“The hairdresser and the makeup artist and the designer,” she says, taking a few small steps into the room. “They’ve been manhandling me all morning.”
“You look beautiful.” The words are out of my mouth before I can draw them back. I quickly turn to assess my own appearance in the mirror again. Perhaps, if I pretend it is normal for me to comment on her appearance, she won’t notice it.
“Thank you,” she says softly. Apparently, I must sound welcoming because she crosses the room and moves to the window where my father was just standing. The daylight casts her in a silhouette, and I can’t help but focus on her pouty lips and the small slope of her nose. She takes a deep breath, releasing it in a shuddery inhale.
“Are you nervous?” I ask.
She blinks, not looking away from the ceremony spread out on the lawn below. White chairs being filled by Volkov family and friends. I wonder if she can see her father in the crowd. “Yes.”
Should I tell her I’m nervous, too? Would that make her feel better or worse?
Eve turns to me, and she must read my confusion as something else because her eyes go wide. “But I’m not backing out. I know we made a deal, and I intend to keep it.”
“Okay.” I meet her eyes for a second and then spin around, open my top drawer, and pull out a flask. I twist the cap off and hold it out for her. “Care for a toast?”
She looks at the flask like it might be a trick, but then her mouth teases up into a smile and she walks towards me, hand outstretched. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
