Chapter 16
Brax
Three Weeks Later
In two days, I'm supposed to stand in front of the Underworld and declare my love and devotion for Valentina in some fucked-up cleansing ritual.
No matter how many times I ask her or Sean what's involved, they won't tell me, claiming they can't. So a million different twisted things have popped into my mind about what it entails.
Everything I can think of makes me more determined to take down the Underworld and everyone but those closest to me.
I don't know all the details about how Sean and Zara got into this mess, but I've seen enough of how the secret cult works.
And I'm fully aware of how Fiona had to marry Kirill to save the twins from being orphaned.
Nothing the Underworld does is good. Its entire proclamation rests on bringing crime families together to stop the wars, but from my experience, it's just a bunch of con artists plotting to take the others down.
All I see is destruction. They branded Valentina's chest to make her feel eternal shame. Sean had to promise his sister to Kirill to save Zara from death, and even Kirill didn't want that for Fiona. Then Fiona and Kirill almost got beheaded.
There are other things I've witnessed through all their twisted rituals.
I often feel sorry for the poor bastard who's going through it, but that isn't my problem.
Most people want to join the cesspool. I'm sure Sean only got in because his father created it, which is another thing I don't understand.
What the fuck was his father thinking?
Regardless, the only people my loyalty lies with are those whom I've known before I ever heard of the Underworld. But for now, the only option is to move forward with this charade and make sure I don't get killed.
Hence why I'm standing outside Valentina's apartment door with an elevated heartbeat and a plan burning a hole in my pocket.
It's now or never.
I wipe my forehead and pound three times on the door.
She opens it, her hazel eyes wide with an unusual unease, hair tumbling down her shoulders in a dark cascade, and an oversized tan sweatshirt swallowing her body.
The sight of her punches something deep in my chest. My palms turn sweaty.
She steps back, arms folding, voice tight. "Brax. What are you doing here?"
"There's something I need to do."
Her shoulders tense. "Are you bailing on me?"
I grunt and brush past her into the living room.
She shuts the door with a soft click that carries more tension than it should.
The lamps cast a warm glow over her neatly arranged furniture. Everything sits precisely where it belongs, the opposite of the storm swirling under her skin.
She demands, "Answer my question."
I chuckle. "You need to calm down, Minx. What's got your panties in a twist tonight?"
She furrows her eyebrows, then looks away.
My stomach curls. I step closer and move her chin so she can't ignore me. "What's going on, Valentina?"
She asks, "Why are you so calm?"
I tease, "I'm always calm."
"No, you aren't."
I grunt. "Sure, I am."
She throws her hands up and steps backward. "Brax, don't do this."
"Do what?"
"Pretend everything is fine."
"Everything is fine."
She lets out an incredulous sound. "It's two days before our wedding!"
My chest tightens. I lean against her counter. "Are you bolting?"
Her head jerks back. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
Her jaw tightens. "You think I'm going to bail?"
"I'm not the one freaking out."
"I'm not... You're twisting things!"
"Am I?"
She paces once, twice, then spins to face me. "You think you're so perceptive."
"I think you're rattled."
"I'm not rattled." Her voice lifts a notch too high for that statement to hold any weight. "I'm realistic."
"About what?"
She asserts, "Your family is going to hate you."
My heart thumps hard against my chest cavity. I've thought about it a thousand times, and she's right. I have no idea how Finn will ever accept her or what will happen between us once I marry Valentina. But I snort and retort, "They'll get over it."
"Will they?"
"Yep. What else is wrong?" I ask.
She looks away.
"Dammit! Look at me and tell me," I demand.
She slowly faces me. She bites her lip and blinks hard. Then she claims, "You're going to hate me."
I stare at her, frozen mid-breath.
"Stop staring at me like that," she demands.
I order, "Say that again."
"You heard me."
"No. Say it again."
She grips the edge of her sweatshirt, tugging the fabric hard. "You're going to hate me for life."
My muscles lock one by one.
She unravels further, her words tumbling out with raw terror she doesn't try to hide. "You're going to hate me, Brax. Or you're going to bail. Those are the only outcomes. Either option ruins everything, and it's my own fault."
"Valentina, you're being a bit harsh toward yourself," I offer.
She shakes her head violently. "No, this is my fault. I announced we were in love and getting married. I set you up for a lifetime of resentment, and I know it. So don't stand there and pretend you're fine."
Her chest rises and falls in rapid, uneven breaths. Her hands tremble at her sides. The woman who commands an arena with a single look is no longer in the room.
Something tightens viciously in my stomach. I move toward her slowly. I softly command, "Stop spiraling."
"Don't tell me—"
I take her shoulders, anchoring her. "Valentina."
Her lips press together, tight and pale.
I mumble, "I've never seen you like this."
"I'm just being honest."
"You're being—" I stop myself before the wrong word fires this higher. "You're letting your mind run."
"It's not running. It's accurate."
I shake my head. "Minx. You're wrong."
"I'm not."
I insist, "You are."
"How? Tell me how I'm wrong, Brax."
"Well, I'm here, so I'm not bailing on you," I point out.
She blinks harder. Her eyes turn glassy. She argues, "Then you're just going to resent me for eternity."
Something in me snaps clean in half. Before I think it through or weigh the consequences, I drop to one knee right in front of her.
She stutters, "Wh-what are you doing?"
I slip my hand into my jacket pocket, pull out the velvet box, and open it. A massive square diamond sits in a platinum claw setting. It's cut so sharply it captures every glint of light. Rows of smaller diamonds surround it. The band is a seamless line of gems, shimmering like frost.
She doesn't move except for her hands trembling against her sides.
Before I can stop myself, a bold, unapologetic declaration comes out of my mouth. "Listen, Minx, I'm not going to hate you. You're the only woman who has ever challenged me, clawed at me, pushed me, and still pulled me in with the same breath."
Her eyes dart from the ring to my face.
I add, "You crashed into my life like a damn hurricane, and somehow everything makes more sense with you in it. So if I'm going to take a seat, then I want you next to me."
She swallows hard. Her breath comes out shallow.
A wave of nerves hit me hard. I try to tease, but it comes out sounding strange. "I guess this is where I ask you to marry me."
Silence crashes through the room. Tension builds to the point my skin crackles.
Her eyes move from me to the ring, back to me, and the unreadable expression on her face slams more anxiety straight through my ribs.
I start sweating under my T-shirt.
What the fuck did I just say?
Jesus. How reckless could I be?
This isn't what I planned to say or do before I got here.
Why the hell did I drop to my knee?
Valentina might as well be a statue. She doesn't move or blink. Then she narrows her eyes.
My heart slams once, brutal and loud. I school my face into something impassive, rise quickly, and shut the velvet box. I set it on her counter. "Forget I said anything. Here's your ring. See you at the wedding, Minx." I turn toward the door and take several steps.
"Brax! Wait!" she calls out, then grabs the back of my arm.
I stop, harden my expression further, and slowly turn.
She pulls me down into a kiss that strips the air right out of my lungs. When she breaks away, her lips brush mine as she whispers, "Thank you. For what you said. And for marrying me."
Relief hits me, but I don't move, still confused over what I said and did.
Her phone dings several times. She slowly pulls it out of her pocket, swipes the screen, then groans. She announces, "I have to meet Kirill."
Another round of relief hits me. I need air. This is all too much. But I still offer, "Want a ride?"
She shakes her head. "No. Vito will take me."
I scowl. "When we're married and on the council, you're getting a new driver."
She affirms, "You won't hear me complain."
Panic hits me. "Has he done something?"
She shakes her head. "No. But like you said, you could have killed him, so I need someone better, right?"
"Yes. For sure."
We stare at each other for a moment.
She walks to the counter, opens the box, and slides the ring on. She stares at it, then turns. "This is the most beautiful ring I've ever seen."
I softly grin, but puff my chest. "I'm glad you like it."
"I love it."
"Good."
Uncomfortable silence follows.
She clears her throat. "I really do need to go."
"Sure. I'll walk you out," I offer, escort her through the building, and scowl at Vito as we approach.
She goes to get into the vehicle, and I tug her back toward me.
She arches her eyebrows. "What's up?"
"Where's my kiss?" I wiggle my eyebrows.
A tiny laugh escapes her.
"Well? I'm waiting," I tease.
She slides her hands behind my head, pulls my face toward her, and kisses me so deeply that fire burns through my veins.
I kiss her back, holding her tighter to me.
She retreats, murmuring against my lips, "I have to go."
I pat her ass. "Okay, Minx." I peck her on the lips and release her.
She slides onto the backseat.
I warn Vito, "Nothing better happen to her on your watch."
He ignores me and gets into the driver's seat.
I text Kirill.
Me: Valentina needs another driver.