21. Celia
Chapter 21
Celia
The venue for the gala is split into sections: the faux casino in the main room with multiple cash bars dispersed throughout, the adjacent ballrooms hosting various shows and silent auctions, and an outdoor dining experience in the oncoming winter.
Someone didn’t consult the women before deciding to host a three course meal outside. Despite the standing heat lamps surrounding the perimeter, the winter bite in the air is harsh enough to make me shiver. I wrap my faux fur shawl tighter around me, appreciating its warmth but needing more as a chill sweeps across my legs.
Rage and I weave through the round dining tables for our name cards until he finds our entire party at a table for eight. I check each name, my curiosity at an all-time high. He lifts an eyebrow as I circle the table. “You’re right here.” Grabbing the back of my assigned seat, he pulls it away from the table to make room for me to sit.
“What about yours?”
He nods to the space beside mine. “I’m next to you.”
I glance at the remaining cards but barely see the names, my curiosity over Rage’s card getting the better of me. Hopping around the table in excitement, I bounce on the balls of my feet as I check our place settings. The name on my card is as expected, Celia Monrovia, but Rage’s…
“Nikolai Cheknekov?” I take in his appearance from top to bottom, admiring how well his name fits. “Is that real or fake?”
Patting the top of my chair, he smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Rolling my eyes with a smile, I take my seat and allow him to push me in. “Yes, actually, I would.” I lean to each side to check the surrounding names, all ending in Cheknekov.
Emil.
Yuri.
Thanatos.
“Why is Thanatos the only one using his real name? Does that mean that yours—” I squeal in excitement. “Can I call you Nikolai?”
Rage brings the back of my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles, chuckling under his breath. “Only in bed, krosotka .”
I gasp. “Deal.” I contain my eagerness while the server fills our wine glasses with a charming red, but the moment he’s gone, I read the other cards again and mutter the names under my breath, getting a feel for each one. “So which one is Emil and which is Yuri?”
“You’ll have to ask them.”
My earpiece clicks on, Rebel’s voice suddenly in my head. “No way, you cannot call me anything other than Rebel. Not even in bed!”
“Are you sure?” I sit back in my chair and sip my wine. “I bet your name sounds really good on my lips. Especially if I’m moaning.” Flicking my eyes to Rage, I let out a breathy whimper. “ Nikolai, ” I tease, “harder, please! Ah! I’m gonna—I’m gonna?—”
The table beside ours pauses their conversation to peek over at us, and I die of laughter. Setting down my glass, I wipe my mouth with my cloth napkin and clear my throat, regaining my composure. “See? Imagine that, but with the name Emil or Yuri on my lips?—”
“Celia,” Rage rumbles, his burning hand dropping to my thigh. “I said that you could use it while in bed , not at the dinner table.” His eyes smolder like embers as he squeezes just above my knee. “Keep teasing me, and I’ll put you on your knees beneath it.”
My eyes widen as my heart skips a beat. “You wouldn’t.”
Rage’s smile sharpens, turning wolfish. “Say my name again and find out.”
We’re still staring at each other when Rebel suddenly appears, slipping in front of the place setting beside mine, the one labeled for Emil. He drapes his arm over the back of his chair and runs his other hand through his hair, mussing it up even more than it already was. “Celia, baby, you can’t go around moaning like that, or we’ll all go crazy.” Licking a stripe across his top row of teeth, he smiles just as predatorily as Rage. “I’ll fuck you on this table in front of the whole staff.”
Nerves bubble up like champagne inside my stomach as I look between the two of them. I doubt they’re serious… right? With a tight smile, I down the rest of my wine before grabbing Rage’s untouched glass. “Please don’t.”
One blow job in front of an entire club was enough for me.
Rage’s entire demeanor changes in an instant. “Then we won’t.” He grabs Rebel’s shoulder and squeezes, making the other man wince. “Leave, brother.”
Rebel whines loudly. “Man, I’m hungry, too! Let me eat!”
“Go find something else.”
“But this is catered! I picked the steak!”
“You can take it to-go when we leave.”
A couple approaches our table, the woman smiling at us while her partner pulls out her seat. I give her a quick smile before turning back to my men, but then an icy shiver rolls down my spine as a flare of recognition goes off in my brain. I flinch as she says my name, her voice eerily familiar.
“Is that you, Celia? We haven’t seen you since the—” Charlotte’s smile pinches as she looks over her shoulder at Caleb “Teddy” Kissinger, the man stunned into awkward silence as he stares directly at me.
My ex-husband Ted.
“Since the divorce,” I finish for her, forcing my smile to stick. “How funny to bump into you here.”
It’s not funny at all.
“Darling,” I say to Rage, grabbing his lapel. “Why don’t we come back later? I’m not that hungry after all.” Nausea broils in my gut, turning my mood sour. I haven’t seen Ted in person in years, keeping to internet stalking him and his new wife Charlotte. She arches her back and holds out her hand for his to get his attention, and that’s when I see it.
The baby bump.
“You’re expecting,” I cry, somehow unable to shut up. “Oh, how wonderful. You must be overjoyed.”
Both Rebel and Rage share a look before turning to the couple seated across from us. Ruin grunts in my ear and then murmurs something, but I’m too blinded by hurt so deep to understand what he’s saying.
Ted is having a baby.
While I’m still childless.
Charlotte smiles politely. “Thank you. This will be our second. We’re hoping for a girl this time.”
Rebel’s fingers immediately twine in mine on the table, in direct view of Ted and Charlotte, while Rage’s hand travels beneath the slit in my skirt to stroke my bare skin. “You need to eat,” Rage says gently. “Why don’t you introduce us to your friends?”
I close my eyes and nod once. I can do this. It’s not that hard to pretend that my heart isn’t breaking all over again. I’ve done it a thousand times; I’m sure I can do it again. “Nikolai,” I say, opting to use Rage’s real name. “Emil,” I continue, also using Rebel’s. As easy as it is to lie to strangers about a name, the last thing I want to do now is claim that these men—Rage or Nikolai, Rebel or Emil—are anything but mine.
It doesn’t matter what we call each other as long as we stay together.
“This is Ted and Charlotte. My ex-husband and his new wife.” I loop my fingers around Rage’s tie, unclipping it from his shirt. “These are my boyfriends,” I say to the other couple, keeping my smile as bright as possible. “They own a night club in the city.”
Ted sits beside his wife, his eyes pinging between the three of us. “That’s…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, choosing to swallow instead. Reaching for his water glass, he drinks half in one go. “Huh.”
“Huh?” Rebel’s smile ripples before it falls. “What does that mean?”
“Let it go, Emil,” Rage says quickly. “Teddy is simply awestruck that his ex-wife is doing so well. We take good care of her.” Grabbing my thigh, he makes me jump, my knees knocking into the underside of the table. “ And she’s killing it with her fashion line. Isn’t that one of your designs, Celia?” He nods towards Charlotte’s cream-colored sweater dress. “I think I recognize it from last winter’s collection.”
My blood pressure rises as I realize that I have to look at her again. Carefully, I turn my head to check Charlotte’s dress and try not to stare at her baby bump.
Rage is completely correct; that’s one of my most popular dresses from a year ago.
Of course, he also knows that he’s correct. I catch him staring at me with all the pride in the world, his thumb stroking gentle arcs into my skin beneath the table. “You have good tastes,” I say finally, feeling a little better. Seeing one of my designs out in the wild—and not a custom one for this evening—is always a treat. “It’s a beautiful color for your complexion.”
“Thank you!” As the server brings a wooden serving board of freshly baked bread to our table, she asks for pats of real butter rather than the oil and balsamic vinegar already set out. Eying the bread, she knocks the back of her hand against Ted’s chest. “Would you slice the bread for the table?”
“Gladly,” Rebel cuts in, tugging the board to our side of the table. He grabs the bread knife and holds it up for us all to admire. Flames from the fire pit in the center of the dining area flicker in the blade’s mirrored edge. “Funny thing about knives,” he says slowly, touching the sharp, serrated tips. “They sure know how to stab you in the back. Especially when you’re distracted.”
“Especially,” Rage repeats, watching as Rebel begins slicing the loaf into equal-sized pieces. He only cuts four, then slides them onto four identical plates and sets them in front of everyone… except for Ted. Charlotte’s butter arrives, and she carefully unwraps a rectangle, her hands shaking as she swipes her butter knife across the side. After she covers her slice of bread, she gently pushes the bowl to our side of the table, her smile as soft as her eyes.
Kind eyes for a gentle woman.
She doesn’t deserve this testosterone-fueled, dick-measuring contest.
“Why don’t you boys take Ted to the bar for a drink,” I suggest, squeezing both Rage and Rebel’s hands. “And send for another loaf of bread for the table.”
Rebel’s face falls. “What? Why would we?—”
“Of course,” Rage interjects, meeting my eyes. “Whatever you need.”
Relief washes over me. “Thank you.” I squeeze his hand a second time. “I need more bread and butter.”
And Charlotte doesn’t need to watch my men tear Ted apart with their eyes.
“You boys have fun.”
Ted visibly pales. Although he isn’t part of the bratva, after our divorce, I heard a rumor that my brother Mikhail paid him a visit. A very long, very painful visit. There really isn’t any need for Rage or Rebel to do anything to him, especially now that he and Charlotte are expecting a baby, but…
It won’t kill him to sweat a little.
As Rebel slides his chair back to stand, I take the bread knife from his hands. “Play nice,” I tell him, pursing my lips. “You’re going to be a dad soon. Maybe you can learn something from him.”
Both Rebel and Thanatos chuff at the same time, one of them directly in front of me and one through the speaker in my ear. I catch the eldest Cheknekov brother watching from the other side of the dining area, his arms crossed as he stands like a bouncer in front of the red velvet ropes separating the tables from the dark back lawn. Beyond the lush expanse of the out-of-season green grass lies a patch of trees, and beyond that, the mountain that separates the city from the rest of the state.
Charlotte catches me staring at our shadowed backdrop and sighs. “Yeah, it’s pretty ominous, sitting here after all the bodies they found on the mountainside.” She shakes her head, then takes a bite of bread and moans. “You have to try this, Celia. It’s sooo fresh!”
I’m still stuck on the first thing she said. “What bodies?”
She finishes her slice and grabs a second from Rebel’s plate. “You haven’t heard? They found an open pit with at least a dozen people thrown inside. All dead. All women. The police think that they were tourists staying in the cabins up near the lake. So sad.” Taking another bite of bread, she sighs as she chews. “It’s almost Christmas, and all of those families will be missing their loved ones.” Her eyes well with tears, and she hastily brushes them away. “Sorry, it’s the hormones!”
A pang of jealousy hits my heart like a hammer. “It’s okay.”
“Is it, though?” A strand of blonde hair falls from her updo. “So many people have died. And then your boutique!” Her eyes widen as she jumps from topic to topic. “I saw the pictures! It’s a miracle that no one was there when it burned down.”
Yeah, definitely a miracle.
I pull off a small piece of the soft middle part of my bread and chew it slowly, wondering where Ruin is right now. Did he disappear into the shadows again, or is he actively looking for his dad in the crowd? I know that we got distracted earlier, but I can’t find it in my heart to regret it, despite the risks.
More people could be in danger right now… yet here I am, breaking bread with the woman who stole my ex-husband from me.
“When did they find the bodies on the mountain?” Lifting my eyes, I stare at the jagged outline of dark rock towering in the distance over the tree line. The snow caps have grown with the oncoming winter, making it a popular skiing destination. How could an entire population of people miss a mass grave?
“Oh, I don’t know. Ted’s the one who told me. Ted!” Charlotte calls out for her husband, swiveling in her chair to look for him. “Now where did he go…” The closest bar to us is missing two tall, violent men and their latest target.
Shit. I feel a little bad about that. “Emil probably kidnapped him to play poker. He’s been on a winning streak. Says that he wants to take money from everyone’s pockets.” I sip my wine and listen for my men in our comms unit, but they’ve gone silent. I check for Thanatos near the lawn, and he’s still there, saying something to the others that I can’t hear.
Chuckling, Charlotte relaxes. “Ted’s got a shit hand at poker. Emil’s going to clean him out.”
Tilting my head to the side, I study Charlotte, admiring her pregnancy glow. “Are you happy, Charlotte? Does Ted… is he good to you?” I can’t fathom that the man who used to ignore me for days after seeing a negative pregnancy test would learn to be a good husband, not even to Charlotte. She seems really nice, and Ted slowly lost his kindness throughout our marriage.
I wonder if I put too much pressure on him when we were married. To be perfect. Maintain appearances. Keep up with my baby fever. Although none of that condones Ted’s actions, they may have contributed towards his affair, and Charlotte, despite her gentle appearance, was a part of that.
She places her hands in her lap. “Our marriage isn’t perfect, but that’s life, isn’t it? I’m happy because we try our best every day, and I can’t ask for more than that. He’s a good father.” Inclining her head towards me, she smiles. “And I know that you’ll make a wonderful mother, Celia. I’ve always thought that, even before Ted and I started dating. I know that you both wanted children. But sometimes… we need to be with the right people first.” Gently holding her round belly, she smiles. “I’m with my person. Are you with yours?”
I hadn’t expected for this conversation to become emotional. I look over Charlotte’s shoulder at Thanatos, feeling something stir inside my heart. He’s infuriating. Insufferable. Drives me insane—just like the rest of them.
Our damaged, loyal, crazy little family.
When Thanatos finally looks back over at me, I let the warm, fluttery feeling expand until I’m smiling at him. “Yeah, I am with my people.”
All four of them.