Chapter 28
28
LUCY
R ed light bathes the stairs in a bloody glow. The gold touches are a deep black, giving the place a sinister tinge that makes my pulse quicken. With my white dress trailing behind me, I take each step down slowly.
It’s his eyes that stop me first. We’re a few steps apart, but the light tinges his eyes into a relucent purple haze that makes my belly flip. And I have no choice but to pause and catch my breath while my heart jumps up into my throat at the sight of his grin. It could make the Cheshire cat jealous.
Good fucking God.
Even with all the people around us, all I can do is stare at him, my hand going straight to my sprouting belly. It’s only been a few weeks since we found out I’m pregnant, but I already feel impatient to see our child. I keep imagining a gorgeous little boy with all his father’s charisma and the same sullen smile that makes my chest squeeze at the sight.
When I don’t descend the rest of the way, Tomasz makes true on his promise and comes for me, his hands cupping my face in greeting.
“Malyshka,” he whispers over my lips. The word is almost as good as the kiss that precedes it.
“Husband,” I murmur back, my hands flattening over his chest as his round to the top of my arse.
“How are you feeling?”
“Good.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” I reply, trailing my hands so that they mould to the base of his throat.
Everything about him is so powerful and big that my fingers don’t touch at his nape while my thumbs stroke the black silk of his bow tie.
“Look at me,” he orders as I focus on the peek of his tattoos from beneath the collar of his shirt. When my eyes find his, he kisses me again with his hands pressing me to him. My body pushes flush to his, and I greedily breathe him in. “If it goes wrong, you get out of here. Anton will take you and Mama to the compound in the mountains. He’ll keep the three of you safe.”
Looking down between us, he narrows his stare on the wide cummerbund of my Grecian-style dress. To people around us, it’ll look like he’s admiring my cleavage, a husband fawning over his new wife as his hand trails to my hip and grips firmly, clearly in a bid to stop himself from touching my stomach. Something he’s been doing a lot, an action I never thought I would love so much.
“It won’t go bad.” Not while we’re together, and I have no intention of leaving him. There’s nothing left for me outside of our life together. “Don’t you dare go fucking soft on me now.”
“Soft?” he chuckles with a light scrape of his stubbled jaw on my cheek. The sensation causes me to shiver with the heat that courses through me. “There’s nothing soft about me. You more than anyone know this.”
“Don’t jest.”
Nerves vibrate my insides as he pulls back. Instant cold assaults me with the short distance between us when Tomasz takes my hand, guiding me down the few steps to the lobby of the club.
“Shit goes wrong, you get the fuck out, understand?” The authoritarian edge of his words is reinforced with the tight squeeze to my hand. When I don’t reply, he repeats, “Understand, pet?”
“Yes…” I gasp when he tugs me into his side and wraps his arm around my waist.
“Keeping our child safe is your only priority. Nothing else matters.” The words are barely a whisper as we approach Anton.
“Mikheil and his wife are inside.” He nods towards the ballroom. “He has four men with him, however, his main security guy isn’t here.”
Tomasz glances around us, clearly assessing the situation before they share a silent exchange.
This is it.
This is war.
Whether or not he sees it this way.
“That door closes, and it doesn’t open until it’s done,” Tomasz tells Anton. “You don’t take your eyes off her,” he continues, nodding down at me. With his arm curling tighter around me, he moulds his hand to the side of my belly. “If it comes to it, you protect her and our child. You know the plan, and my uncle is ready.”
Acknowledging the recap of Tomasz’s order with a tip of his chin, Anton peers down at me. He knows where I stand. I’ve made it abundantly clear that I will do whatever it takes to protect my husband. Loving the child growing inside me only makes me more determined to do so.
“The men need to be ready and alert. There’s no way Sarapov only has four men with him…”
“We have reinforcements surrounding the place.”
“We’re walking into a trap,” I state, looking between the two of them.
Coiling his arm around me tighter, Tomasz levels me with a battle-ready cock of his brow. There’s nothing but certainty in his voice as he tells me, “It’s never a trap if you have the vantage point.”
The second my eyes flicker back to Anton, he nods at me, acknowledging the conversation we had earlier. Tomasz may be confident, but he is very aware of the danger surrounding us. I can feel it prickle over my skin, a pinching, electric current that refuses to die down even as I steady my breaths and allow Tomasz to guide me through the double doors.
The room is stunning. Dark polished wood reflects the flickers of all the candles dotted about the place. Gauzy tulle drapes from the chandeliers, holding red rose petal clouds above us. The room is muted and sultry. Nothing like our wedding that was all open air and easy touches. Death lingers in the air around us, and as we sit at the head of the long table, my eyes meet those of Mikheil Sarapov.
Hate burnishes the bottomless pits of his stare, making my chest tighten. And I can’t help it. My arm coils around my belly, reaching across me so that I can grab hold of Tomasz’s jacket.
“We need to leave,” I tell him when he lowers his head close to press a kiss to my temple. I’m about to make up a lie and tell him that something doesn’t feel right with the baby when Dimitri walks in with Luda at his side. “She was meant to stay in the suite.”
“Shit,” he curses sharply. “I told them this wasn’t the place for her tonight.”
Visions of the last supper bombard me as I look around us, trying to spot our weak spot through the laughter and smiles. Our Judas kiss is somewhere in here. I can feel it in the marrow of my bones. But my eyes lead me right back to Mikheil. The man using me as an excuse to spill my husband’s blood. From the unwavering hook of his stare, he seems confident that it’s already his. A sinking feeling strangles my insides. Something is off. A man doesn’t walk into the devil’s lair with that much surety unless he possesses a coup de grace.
“You need to call this off.”
“No,” he asserts, turning into me to cup my face. With his lips ghosting mine, his other hand grasps mine, and slowly he guides it beneath the table. “Open.”
At his order, I part my legs. It’s second nature to me now. What Tomasz wants, Tomasz gets. Wherever, whenever. A grin hitches one side of his shadowed face. The look would be menacing if it wasn’t so handsomely devious.
“Your hand, Red. Open your hand,” he chuckles darkly, lifting it to the bottom of the tabletop. “You’re protected by the men, but you’re not defenceless.” My palm burns at the feel of the cool, secured weapon. “Never defenceless.”
“You knew.”
“Of course.”
“Then why go through with this?”
“Because I’m the better man…” He kisses my gaping lips, bringing our hands back to my lap. “And the better man always wins.”
Kissing him in return, I savour the scratch of his stubble and the heat of his breath on my skin while I vow to make sure that we win.
Tomasz may not be perfect, but looking around, he is the best man. And even with the sinking weight in my gut, I’ll be damned if he doesn’t win.