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On the street, I scoop her hand into mine. She’s my wife, and everyone in this world of hers needs to know that.
It occurs to me, with our fingers twisted together, that she doesn’t have a ring.
Holy shit, Inevergot her a ring. And she never asked for one. She threw Rahil’s ring on top of his dead body. My evil glare at the priest when he robotically got to the ring exchange part of the ceremony had him skipping it.
We get to the main entrance, and I hate seeing only one security guard there. I give him a deep ‘hello’ and keep walking, whether I’m allowed to be here or not. Katya is my wife, and it’s my right to stay with her. I just don’t like the idea that he’d letanyone elsewalk in here.
At the end of a long hallway, women who are basically clones of Katya, as far as dress and size, disappear behind a set of double doors.
“I need to change.” She tugs me to a corner. “You can’t come into the dressing room.”
“Says who?”
“Lachlan!” Her eyes slip closed, and I’m getting frustrated that she doesn’t want me here.
“Do my looks bother you, little wife?” I’ve lived with this scar for half my life, but never considered how frail young women might look at me. “And I was kidding about the dressing room.”
“Lachlan, you’re stupidly gorgeous. That hulking, broody thing you have going on only makes you more attractive. Don’t even get me started on the scar.”
“I only want you, Katya.” I consider maybe she doesn’t want me watching other dancers. “I hate surprises, but this spark between us has been a very pleasant one for me.”
“I only want you, too.” She snuggles against my chest. “My stretch clinic lasts for about an hour. Why don’t you get some coffee and come to the auditorium around ten?”
That will give me time to find a jewelry store. “Aye, little wife. I can’t wait to see you dance again.”
She gives me another squeeze and a soft kiss on my rough cheek. “I’ll see you later.”
Watching her glide toward those double doors, my brain is aware of other women, but I only have eyes for Katya. Anger bubbles inside me when I think of men who cheat on their wives. I’m certain my father was a rare exception. Even when my mother was always pregnant.
Then Darragh and Cormac came along and she was done.
It had been great having Darragh and his daughter, Sophie, home for a few days when Riordan was in the hospital. He hinted Cormac was in trouble some way. Darragh, his identical twin, staunchly looks out for his brother. I struggle if I should get involved. To pay Cormac a visit. Darragh assured us he’d reach out if he needed us.
I leave those thoughts behind me and grab a coffee from a street cart. Sipping the vile mess, I call my sister.
“Lachlan?” Shea chirps to me.
“Mea stór.” I call her my treasure, and it immediately feels odd, since I have a wife who should have that title. Shea is our only sister and so very precious to us. “I assume you heard I got married.”
“I did. You guys are making my head spin. Are they putting something different in the water in Astoria?”
I think about the coincidence of Kieran, Riordan, and me getting married in a matter of a couple of years. Then it hits me, the undercurrent that drove these decisions. The Koslov Bratva falling apart. Which was spurred by one simple action.
Stasia running off. And according to my wife, she suggested it should look like a kidnapping.
“You’d have to ask your BFF Balor, since he knows all about cyber-attacks,” I joke to Shea about her love potion in the water. “Anyway, I need a ring for Katya.”
“You haven’t bought her a ring yet?”
“I’ve been busy.” Consummating the marriage, but I would never say anything inappropriate to my sister.
“Kieran and Riordan were happy with Crest Diamonds.”
“That place off Fifth?” I search for a street sign.
“Place? It’s a billion-dollar diamond empire.” Diamonds are a nasty, cut-throat business run by vicious cartels. “I’ll call and make an appointment for you.”
“No. I’ll call them.” I don’t care for the red-carpet treatment Kieran and Riordan get. I work the streets and get my hands dirty. I keep it real.
