Chapter 35-Ono
A drik Volkov told me about the reception his daughter was holding for me and my bride around the same time Shelly had texted me about it.
I knew it would be big and flashy, but I had no idea that meant over two hundred people would be joining us, including some of Michelle’s colleagues and her attending, Dr. Cross.
I couldn’t say I was a fan, and since I was meeting Michelle at the restaurant, I had the opportunity to confront the man as he was ogling one of Josef Aziz’s younger daughters.
“Excuse me,” the petite redhead said, using my appearance as an excuse to escape.
“Thanks, pal. I was just getting her to come around,” the doctor said, adjusting his miniscule cock in his pants.
“You’re Dr. Cross?” I asked, anger filling me.
The older man turned to face me, and I realized then he wasn’t really older. Just grayer. And not in a good way.
“Yes, and you are?”
“Ono Bottarelli.”
“Ah, you’re the lucky man who stole away with Dr. Davis. Bought her a new position too, I hear. You know, some people sleep their way to the top, but others go another way I guess, though it’s really all about who you fuck, isn’t it?”
The jerk wad laughed, arrogance dripping from his lips. He looked confused that I didn’t join him with a chuckle. Like I fucking would.
This prick.
“Is that so?”
“Oh, uh, I didn’t mean anything?—”
“I think you did. I think you made a mistake accepting this invitation,” I growled, aware that Sammy and Jr. were now flanking me.
“Um, look, I don’t know what she told you, but I never?—”
That was all I needed to hear to know this sleazeball had done something to make my Michelle uncomfortable. That he was a worthless piece of shit who needed to learn a lesson.
“Hey Jr.?”
“Yeah. This guy is Michelle’s old attending. He’s got to leave the city, though. In fact, I think he’s gotta leave the whole East coast,” I growled, wanting to plant my fist in his face but holding back for now.
“Oh, um, I think maybe we have had a misunderstanding,” Cross said.
“There’s no misunderstanding. You’re a fucking creep. You make women uncomfortable. That young lady you were talking to? That’s his cousin,” I said nodding at Sammy who growled low and menacingly in his throat.
“This is me being generous cause it’s a party and I am here to celebrate my wife,” I said, stepping up to his face. “But if Michelle ever tells me that you ever made her uncomfortable, then I’m gonna come looking for you. And you’re gonna want to be gone. Understand?”
I waited for everything I just said to sink in, rewarded when Dr. Cross went a little paler beneath the collar.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Jr. said, nodding his head at one of the security guards we had all over the floor.
I exhaled a deep breath as Dr. Cross was removed from the premises and I turned to see Sammy and Jr. watching me closely.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Jr. said, raising his hands.
“Is it hot in here? Where is she?” I asked, looking at the crowd with disdain.
It wasn’t the people themselves. It was the sheer number of them—the overwhelming, suffocating mass of bodies pressed into too small a space.
I fucking hated crowds, especially when they closed in around me like this.
It didn’t matter how tasteful the setting was or how polished the atmosphere. The weight of too many men and women in one place always made my skin crawl.
And this place? Oh, it was tasteful, all right. Beautiful and expensive with killer views. But there was only one view I wanted. And that was of my wife.
Where is she?
Long crystal vases stood like sentinels on every table, bursting with blood red roses tied off with elaborate gold silk bows.
Everyone seemed to be draped in black. The men in tailored suits, sharp and uniform like they’d walked out of some exclusive catalog.
The women were swathed in sleek silhouettes, their jewels glinting in the low light like tiny stars.
I wondered why they’d all coordinated their outfits so perfectly, but the answer didn’t take long to discover. The music I barely registered softened and a male voice announced over a microphone that we should all stand and welcome the bridal party.
“Come on,” Sammy said, grinning as he bumped my shoulder and led me, along with Gio, Flacco, and Jr. to the front of the crowd.
Then they filed out of the door, their husbands or dates waiting for them. I noted Connor Callahan had arrived, and his cousin, Balor Cruz was there too.
The men met the ladies as they filed out, Sammy and Jr. going over as well.
Each of the women, all members of the Volkov Clan, wore stunning gowns. They were all in black like the other guests, only their gowns had bright accents in red and gold.
My hands were sweating, and nerves had my stomach in knots as I waited for her. We were already married. It made no sense to feel this way.
But I couldn’t stop the hammering of my heart, any more than I could stop the moon from rising in the night sky.
Finally, she entered the room.
My beautiful bride draped in gold silk, holding a red bouquet, and wearing a smile that outshone the stars.
Holy. Fuck.
She was stunning.
I didn’t hear them call my name. I had no idea what was said or not by that man with the microphone.
I simply crossed the room to her, with no intentions of stopping until I had her safe and secure in my arms.
“Ono!” she said, a laugh on her face as I dipped her as far back as I could without causing us both to fall to the floor in a mini dog pile.
“I love you,” I told her right before I slammed my lips to hers.