The Queen’s Denial

Chapter 32 Andy

Chapter 32

Andy

The week before Cas and Mara’s wedding is quiet, thank God. I don’t end up having to bother Cas with anything because Mara is driving him crazy, flitting around from one place to the other, dragging him from one vendor to the next to make sure everything is ready.

Cas is in a mood, filled with restless energy, doing pushups on my safehouse livingroom rug. “She’s never planned a fucking party before, she says. How is that possible?”

“I don’t know. Chi says the same thing, like she never had to do the heavy lifting because…” I trail off when I recognize the strange, wistful tone of my voice and remember that I haven’t even spoken to Chi in a month. “Anyway, yeah. She used to say the same thing.”

Cas apparently doesn’t notice my inner turmoil. “Fucking almond cake, some kind of filling called cassata cream? And apparently, it’s just cannoli filling. Just say it’s fucking cannoli cream.”

“Do you not remember Nona talking about the cassata cream in the cannolis?” Our grandmother and Cas’s mother are the ones who taught us the Italian language, and while I know Cas wasn’t exactly their most astute pupil, they were both great teachers.

He shoots me a severe side-eye. “You saying I’m a bad Italian? There’s ricotta and mozzarella. No cassata. Nona made cannolis and called them ‘cannolis.’” He throws his shirt on the couch and checks his physique in the hallway mirror.

I look at him skeptically, but my amusement is clear. Cas doesn’t usually joke around this much. “Yeah, I think you were born in America and learned the Italian language here. That’s what I think.”

He looks like he wants to smack me, but smirks instead, which is surprising considering who I’m talking to. But Mara changes him in the best ways, and I’m certain that her influence is the reason why he lets my snide shit blow over these days. He’s so different now that he’s found her, but from the way he studies himself in the mirror, it’s clear that he’s still the same in all of his arrogance, at least. “I came here for an update, not just to appreciate the results of the extra fifty pounds I’ve been lifting. What do you have for me?”

He’s fishing for a compliment while asking for me to speed things along — sounds about right for Cas. I roll my eyes but give him some of what he wants. “It’s been quiet. I don’t trust Chi’s brother or the guys she’s passed over. I saw one the other day that was very unhappy. He came to try and win another chance, and she flat out rejected him. She’s set on the guy she chose, which honestly makes sense. From the footage Oxy has shown me, he’s pretty smitten with her—”

“Andy, if I wanted a fucking rundown of her arranged marriage, I’d pick up a copy of Vanity Fair, Jesus Christ.”

I sigh in frustration. “Well, what do you want then? You asked for an update, and I’m giving you one.”

“Just tell me who you think poses a threat.” He shoots me a side-long glance and gives me a shit-eating smirk. “And if you’ve been doing anything but watching her every day, maybe you could give me updates on the Russians, the congressmen, and the dirty law enforcement you're supposed to be scoping out. Now is the time to sway the dirty ones, Andy.” He turns his face to me full-on now. “You should know that, my friend.”

I lean back on the couch miserably. The fact is, he’s right. I’ve been seriously slacking in my work, as I was worried about, and I realize that even more now talking to him. While I sit as a sentry outside of Chi’s house, I’m supposed to also be looking out for possible leads in government and law enforcement that we can turn and use for our own purposes, but instead, I’m focused almost entirely on intelligence. And not even intelligence for all of the families we work for. Mainly just Chi’s.

I know the cartel in New York is having a problem with uprisings — a civil war of sorts — and we heavily favor keeping the current leader in power, but I have barely even touched that, instead delegating it to Gus. I told myself at the time that Gus is older, and since the bullet to his stomach really did a number on him, it would be good for him to take over operations in a place where immediate action would likely be unnecessary. But the truth is, immediate action likely won’t be necessary anywhere right now. Right now is the calm period, where everyone is regrouping and gearing up, studying others and their own standing in this mafia world we work within.

The fact is, truly, that I am blowing my time as leader, and Cas is simply making that clear. I need to do better. I need to stop being so fucking preoccupied.

I give him a rundown of the general details I know from the lieutenants I’ve delegated work to, and he nods as he studies his arms distractedly. He’s not here for himself. He’s here to give me a lesson to get my shit together if I want to keep running this thing. If I don’t want him stepping back in and giving up on nurturing the budding life he’s started with his girl and his daughter.

“I also met with Fink and Castro,” I begin in a monotone, talking about the two congressmen I’m working at the moment. “We have good blackmail, and they’re obviously freaked out. Fink has a few more days to decide, and Castro has a week. They’ll agree, but they’ll run out all their time trying to think of how they can get back at us. Once they go up the chain and realize there’s nothing they can do, they’ll agree.”

Cas puts his t-shirt back on and slaps my shoulder. “Good. Get them on board, and start working the rest of the guys on the list, too. We can recruit at least a dozen, and I know you’re the best of the two of us to do it.”

Cas rarely gives me encouragement. “I must look like shit,” I say, wincing at the despair in my own voice.

“Yup. Total and utter shit.” Cas’s face doesn’t change, but he seems to be considering his next words carefully. Finally, he spits them out. “If you don’t like this, then do something about it, man. No one else will.”

I know exactly what he’s talking about. He’s talking about Chi. He’s talking about wrangling her and her father into my scenario of what I want to happen with her. But what the fuck is that, even? She wants to do what her father is asking of her. She wants to be the Yakuza queen. Anything I said would just be heart wrenching for both of us. This is what Cas doesn’t understand about my situation: it is not the same as his situation was with Mara. Mara didn’t know what she wanted, so he was able to sway her decisions. And it was hard for him to do even that.

“Chi knows exactly what she wants. And it’s not to stay here with me and live in my safehouse, playing wifey and having two little kids and a dog.”

Cas narrows his eyes for a moment, considering my response, but then shrugs. “Then change her mind, or your own.”

I look at him incredulously. “You know shit doesn’t work like that, asshole. Even you must realize things aren’t so fucking simple.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Whatever, man. You want her, then take her. You don’t, then just move on.”

I know he’s oversimplifying shit because he truly believes he did this when he isn’t second-guessing himself. And since he almost never second-guesses himself, he believes it most of the time. He broke through Mara’s defenses, muscled through her indecision, and made her choose what he wanted. He seems to conveniently forget all the hardships they faced, in part because of her stubbornness, but also because of his own.

I shake my head. “You’re such a fucking hypocrite, man.”

Cas’s smile simply widens. “God, you’re so cranky today. Remind me never to leave you to run off to Japan with some half-witted daddy’s boy.”

I give him one last killer stink-eye. “I think it’s time for you to get the fuck out of here, boss.”

*****

The day before the wedding, we go out and drink. As usual, Cas doesn’t even feel the alcohol. Usually I don’t drink much, but I decide to fuck it all and get wasted. I remember pushing the stripper’s tits out of my face like an asshole, which I now deeply regret after I remember the lame jokes made at my expense the next morning. I don’t remember much else, including how we got back to the little farm that Mara chose for the wedding venue. Cas preferred a place in the middle of nowhere and Mara fell in love with the simple charm of this place in particular.

Cas wakes me up by locking his arm around the back of my neck and pulling me off the bed while I’m still half asleep.

“I made you a fucking Bloody Mary, you little bitch,” Cas says with a snicker. “It’s the only cocktail you can drink without the guys making fun of your sexual orientation again, and honestly, you could use the tomato juice. You look like shit lately, and even worse this morning, for obvious reasons.”

“Ughh, fuck,” I say, sipping the drink Cas puts in my hand. “How did I forget about fucking hangovers? I never used to feel like this when I’d drink, man.”

“Yeah, well we’re in our 30’s now. Get used to it.” Cas lays out our tuxes and starts shaving.

“What are we, the fucking odd couple? You have the presidential suite. Go to your own room and get ready.”

Cas’s eyes glitter with mischief. He stops for a moment and looks at me in the mirror. “And leave you here to nurse your hangover all alone? That wouldn’t be half as fun.”

I roll my eyes. “I’d get over it.”

“I’m talking about for me. I’m enjoying watching your miserable ass.”

I seethe at him while I wash down the Advil he’s left for me on the bedside table, but I’m not really mad. I don’t really believe that he’s in here to watch me suffer. I lie on the bed and give him the show he says he wants to see as I throw my arm over my face and press on the sinuses above my nose with my other hand to ease my headache.

Somehow, I’m shaven, dressed, and otherwise presentable in the next hour, and before I know it, Cas and I are standing at the altar waiting. I know what I’m about to see, though, and I wish I were still drunk enough to deal with it.

Minutes later, Chi begins walking down the aisle. Everyone “oohs” and “aahs” at her designer dress, but I’m just staring at her face. She’s opted out of her fake eyelashes and heavy makeup. Her natural bronze glow shines through, and she smiles at everyone. Everyone except me, which I’m certain is a methodical choice on her part.

I’m certain she knows she holds the advantage in this encounter — she controls the board. She may not be looking at me, but I’m riveted to her. I can’t stop staring. And for whatever reason, I don’t give nearly enough shits to care about who realizes it.

Cas smirks at me but says nothing. Asshole.

Chi tries extremely hard not to notice I’m staring at her, but I see the very moment she catches me in her peripheral vision. Her eyes flit away from me too quickly, and she licks her lips nervously. She can’t stop peeking at me after she notices, and I don’t even fucking care that I’m staring at her like a total creep.

Luckily, Mara comes out a moment later, and all eyes turn to her, except mine. I stare openly at Chi. I don’t know why I’m doing this to myself or to her, but I want her to feel me. I want her to be trapped, to feel me devouring her with my gaze. I want her to be as fucking eaten alive by me as I’ve been by her.

I see her getting more and more antsy as the ceremony progresses. By the time it’s over, she’s sweating me, and I can tell. Anyone who’s watching can tell, as she fidgets and steals darting glances at me — stares at everything below my neck so she doesn’t have to look into my eyes. And I fucking love every second of it.

“I now pronounce you man and wife!” Cas grabs Mara with far more strength than is probably necessary and nearly picks her up in a bruising kiss against him, right in front of everyone. It lasts so long that the crowd actually starts to get uncomfortable and murmur.

I hear someone say, “Get it, King Cas!” and I just know it’s that fucker Beck. In the moment it takes me to find him in the crowd, Chi makes her exit behind Mara and Cas. I see her hurry inside with her head down, a veil of shiny black gossamer shielding her face from mine.

When I look back at Beck, even angrier about his presence here than I was before, I realize he’s seen my scorching gaze at Chi’s back. He looks back and forth between us and then settles on me and wiggles his brows. I fucking hate that guy.

I do the necessary rounds, knowing I’m going to have to be the charming one between Cas and me, since Cas is a grumpy fucker who couldn’t care less about any of these people and likely just wants to fuck his wife into every surface of this homestead. They’re supposedly off taking pictures for the next three hours, but there’s no part of me that believes Cas didn’t take pictures for ten minutes and then threaten to slit the photographer’s throat before ripping Mara’s dress off and carrying her upstairs kicking and screaming.

Niko, Mara’s cousin, sits awkwardly next to some Russian guy I’ve seen a few times and otherwise doesn’t really talk to anyone. I think the girl Beck is with takes pity on him and goes to strike up a conversation, and before I know it, Beck is striding up to me casually without a care in the world.

“Hey, brother! So, you and Chee-chee Yan?”

I have to physically hold myself back from punching the dimples right off his face. “Don’t fucking call her that.” She’s mine. And I also know he has no actual feelings for any of the women he has ever had a relationship with. Before he was underboss, he was a romancer. The only woman I’ve ever seen him lower himself to speak to in public is his old boss’s daughter, who came with him today, and they have more of a friendship vibe going on than anything else.

I fucking hate romancers. They’re pretty little shits who flash their pearly white teeth at the ladies with serious financial issues and then get them to work for their shady-ass strip clubs. Cas says Beck isn’t into that anymore, but I don’t care. Nothing about it sits right with me, so Beck himself doesn’t either.

“What?” he asks, looking mildly scandalized. “I know her. Well, a little. I met her twice. Once when I saw her at her mansion, and then another time when I came to Boston for a meeting and then saw her out at a club afterwards. Girl was barely 21 and licking lemon drops off my abs like her life depended on it—”

I’ve got him by the collar of his shirt before I can think twice, and I pull him so close to my face that he crashes into me.

“What the fuck—”

“Don’t ever talk about my girl like that again, you motherfucker. Or Cas won’t be the only one threatening to cut your head off your body and stick it on a pike outside that gaudy, ugly-ass mansion you call home.”

Beck continues to smirk at me, which I feel is a terrible choice on his part because I am never this irrationally angry. I don’t even recognize myself right now, and have no idea what I’m capable of when I’m like this.

“Whooooaaa, Andy, take it easy. I heard you were such a cool, laid back guy. Sounds like we could be best friends, ya know? If you could just stop being such a fucking prick.”

“Sure, I’ll be your best friend. Let’s go take a walk, asshole. Watch this best friend impale you with a fucking tree branch—”

“Okay, boys.” The girl that Beck came with grabs his jacket like he’s an unruly teenager and pulls him back from me, while also pushing me harshly enough to make it clear that if I take this any further, I’m in trouble, too. She jostles us around a bit, but my grip on his jacket holds strong.

She is undeterred and continues. “Maybe we can refrain from being complete assholes at your best friend’s wedding, Andy? What do you think?”

“Oh, that’s weird; this weaselly little fuck just said he wanted to be my best friend. I was gonna show him my gun collection and see if he wanted to do some target practice with me.”

“Jesus Christ.” The girl — I think her name is Viviana — pushes me harder, but I don’t budge. “Aren’t you supposed to be the sane Scutari?”

“Andy, what are you doing?” The dulcet tone of Chi’s voice cuts through the haze of anger immediately. I turn my head to meet Chi’s eyes, soft as melted chocolate, and the fire and adrenaline in my gut vanish. I let go of Beck’s suit and shove him away.

Beck studies his outfit and finds a tiny crease that he pushes down with his finger. “You’ve ruined my suit, sir. Expect a bill.”

“Andy, let’s go, please?” Chi pulls me, and I follow, willingly, blindly, and without care as to how many years of my life I’ll lose walking away from her again after how hard I’m about to slam my cock into her on every surface of the bridal suite.