16. Dante
Dante
I left the bedroom and headed downstairs. I found my brother and cousin already dressed in their tailored suits and sitting at the Bellagio bar by the lobby.
“Ah, there’s the groom,” Priest announced. “I’m surprised you came out of it alive.”
Basilio, deciding to play a jerk too and reminding me that I needed to find a new family, asked, “Your dick still intact?”
My expression hardened and strain entered my body.
“I assume you two will hold back your comments until you’re dead,” I said as I took a seat between them.
“Don’t worry,” Priest replied dryly. “I know when to shut up.”
“That’s debatable,” I muttered.
Basilio felt the need to chime in. “What’s debatable is your fucking plan to tie Juliette Brennan to you. The girl hates your guts.”
“Give it to me softly, why don’t you?”
“You realize that Brennan will put a bullet in your head if he ever finds out what happened last night,” Priest said.
I shrugged as I flagged a bartender over. Priest usually had a good handle on his emotions, but for some reason, he was being a dick today.
“Don’t worry, he won’t risk war with us,” Basilio remarked. “Sofia Volkov is a bigger problem than Juliette.” My cousin’s gaze locked on me. “Although for the fucking life of me I don’t understand why you are so fixated on that girl.”
My brother smirked. “He hasn’t been able to get his cock up for any other girl ever since Juliette bumped into him not-so-accidentally back in Chicago.”
He wasn’t far off. Juliette was the definition of my obsession, had been ever since fate had brought her back into my life. Nothing else had ever come close. The more she fought our attraction, the more fixated I became. Until it was part of me and there was no way out.
I waited. I really did. I tried. I really did.
But instead of her caving to our attraction, she slipped further away from me. So I devised a plan, and it worked. She was now mine.
“I just hope she’s worth it,” Basilio said dryly. “Personally, I think she’s more of a headache than she’s worth.”
“You’re wrong,” I snapped.
Basilio sighed, touching his temple. “I hope my kids are nothing like us.”
I agreed with him; although I was in no rush to bring children into this world. First, I needed my new wife to fall to my charms, then I’d enjoy our time together, and I fucking refused to share her with snotty little kids.
Priest’s eyes darted to something behind me.
I looked over my shoulder and spotted Juliette.
Her expression darkened as she sent a snide glance my way.
She was wearing a red minidress and sky-high heels.
I gritted my teeth. Was she trying to have every fucking man from here to Emory’s house drool after her?
A few passersby already stared at her openly, not even trying to hide the desire lurking in their eyes. I wanted to shoot them all, then make her go get dressed in a nun’s outfit.
“Don’t,” Priest warned in a low tone and his eyes locked on mine in that annoying, brooding way. I returned my attention to Juliette. It was a much better view. She was tapping her foot impatiently.
“I don’t have all day,” she snapped. “Are we going or not?”
I didn’t have to look at my brother and cousin to know their mouths twitched. They were such assholes.
“You wanted her, Dante,” Basilio said under his breath as he slapped my shoulder playfully. “Have fun with her.”
I stood up, flipping him the bird. “I hope you have tons of kids that are like their aunt,” I muttered as I walked away.
“Let’s hope you survive to see it,” Priest yelled after me.
Their chuckles followed behind me.
“What in the fuck are you wearing?” I hissed under my breath. “Every man is staring at you, stripping you with their minds.”
She shrugged a slim shoulder. “I can’t control what men do.”
I took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. “Juliette, I’d rather not kill anyone today for gawking at you.”
She started walking, heading for the exit.
“Nobody’s asking you to kill anyone,” she answered, staring straight ahead.
I took her elbow and pulled her to a stop. “Juliette, go change,” I gritted out.
“No.”
“Now!”
She jerked her arm out of my grip. “Give me an annulment,” she countered.
“No.”
Her feistiness would end up driving me insane, if I wasn’t there already.
She lowered her eyes to her little shoulder bag that matched her dress, then started rummaging through it. She pulled out a car key.
“There you have it.” The smile she gave me could freeze an active fucking volcano over. “I don’t get my way and you don’t get yours. Now, let’s go or I’ll skip this damn birthday party altogether.”
My jaw clenched so fucking hard it hurt my eardrums. “Put the fucking key away. I’m driving.”
We resumed walking, my car already waiting for us. When the valet’s eyes landed on Juliette, he ran to open her door but my glare stopped him short. I opened the passenger door to my Bugatti and she slid into the leather seat angrily. The hem of her dress hiked up and she quickly tugged it down.
My lip curved. It reminded me of our first meeting and that midnight-blue dress she wore. As she ran away from me after kicking me in the balls, I caught her tugging on the dress. Even back then I somehow didn’t think she liked to wear minidresses but insisted on it for whatever ridiculous reason.
The drive to Emory’s place passed in silence. It didn’t bother me, but the constant sighs coming from the passenger’s side told me something bothered my wife.
* * *
My muscles tensed when I pulled up my car in front of Emory’s massive stone-and-stucco villa.
I parked at the front entrance and came around the car to open the door for Juliette. She hadn’t said a single goddamn word the entire way here. I’d attempted conversation, even tried to get a rise out of her but gave up pretty quickly.
Nothing.
The woman refused to react.
I held out my hand, a silent order, and her eyes flashed with that defiance I’d come to know since I met her. Good , I thought silently. I’d been starting to worry.
She put her fingers into my palm and I wrapped my hand around them. She stood up, barely reaching to my chin. It always surprised me to realize how short Juliette was. Her personality was so damn big, I’d expected her to reach my six foot three.
I regarded her. She was angry. Of course, she had every right to be, even more than she realized. She narrowed her eyes, then took a deep breath in, only to slowly release it.
Thud-thud. Thud.
Her pulse raced in an erratic rhythm. It was a novelty. Juliette Brennan was always the wild one. Fearless. Yet, ever since she woke up with my ring on her fingers, a switch had been flipped.
She had been acting like she had been given a death sentence.
“Let’s go,” she gritted, her voice trembling.
Without another word, I led Juliette inside where the party was already in full swing. The guests mingled, but the moment we appeared, the voices lowered a few notches. I’d wager the two of us were a topic of quite a few circles tonight.
The Ashfords. The Kings. The Russos. The Nikolaevs. And of course, the DiLustros and Brennans.
Everyone who was someone was here.
“Ah, my cousin and his new bride.” Emory rushed toward us with a tight smile. “Thanks for coming.”
Juliette gave her a tight smile. “Happy birthday, Emory.” My wife handed her a gift bag. “Open it when you’re alone,” she suggested.
Emory’s cheeks blushed. “God, I never know what I’m getting with you.”
“You and me both,” Juliette replied, her tone more than a little dry.
“Oh my gosh, show me the ring,” Emory exclaimed, clapping her hands and smiling widely but guilt passed her expression.
She hid it well, accustomed to hiding her emotions as well as Priest. We spent a lot of time together growing up, so it was easy to recognize her nervous signs.
To anyone else, she looked to be in her element.
Strong. Badass. And fearless.
I scoffed in my head. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t recognized it until now. Emory was just like Juliette.
Juliette reluctantly offered up her hand, the diamond sparkling under the lights of the chandeliers in the large hosting room.
I considered my wife as she kept a forced smile on her lips.
Her face was heart shaped, and her dark hair was in stark contrast to her pale skin and those sapphire-blue eyes.
“Do you like it?” Emory asked softly. “It belonged to Dante’s grandma. She was a sweetheart.”
It was the only piece of jewelry my mother couldn’t get her hands on. Thank fuck. Or it would have all been gone.
“It’s lovely,” Juliette answered but enthusiasm couldn’t be found on her face. My cousin flicked a fleeting glance at me, exasperation in her eyes. She hated that she was a part of my plan.
Then Juliette’s brows furrowed in thought. “How did you happen to have it here? In Vegas?”
Emory’s smile faltered, but before she could say anything, I jumped in. “Emory held them for safekeeping.”
Pulling my wife away from my cousin, we made our way past the rest of the guests and stopped in front of her father, brother, and her stepmother-slash-friend. While Liam and Killian carried grim expressions, Davina smiled and hugged her friend.
As they hugged, Killian shot a glare my way. If looks could kill, I’d be dead. Not even twenty-four hours after I had finally gotten an “I do” from Juliette Brennan.
Liam kept his eyes on me, keeping his expression unreadable. When Juliette pulled away from Davina, he turned his attention to her and his expression softened.
“Jules, I’m glad you came,” he said, pulling her into a hug.
“I was sharp with you this morning, but I am happy for you.” My wife pressed her cheek against his chest. “I just wish you hadn’t gone about marrying without the family present.
” Juliette paled slightly, but she didn’t comment.
“I talked to the hotel and some guests here,” he continued, his tone softer.
“We’ll have a wedding ceremony tomorrow and a small reception.
No daughter of mine will have a Vegas drive-through wedding. ”
“Drive-through?” she asked, her brows furrowed, and this time Liam glared at me too.
“Yes,” Killian hissed. “You sent us the pictures of your drive-through wedding.”
I wished I had confiscated her phone that night.
Unfortunately, Juliette reacted unexpectedly to the drug Priest slipped into her drink.
She loosened up, raved about how handsome I was and how she wanted to memorize my face.
She even smiled at me affectionately, patting my abs and trying to take my clothes off.
Of course, I wouldn’t let her. She was too high. I wanted her to remember every time I touched her. I wanted her sober and conscious.
“Jesus,” my wife muttered. “I’m swearing off alcohol for good.”
“About time,” Liam grumbled.
Juliette inhaled a deep breath. “About the wedding, I’d rather not.”
Liam waved his hand. “Nonsense. We’re doing it.”
“Liam, if they don’t want to—” Killian started to argue before being interrupted.
“Her mother is probably turning in her grave. I remember when Juliette was born. My best friend and his wife vowed they’d throw her a big Irish wedding.”
“They did?” she questioned, surprised. Liam nodded. “They aren’t here, Dad,” Juliette reasoned. She kept herself together but I noted her hands trembling. What in the fuck was going on? “So let’s leave the Irish wedding for some other time and all just move on.”
“I agree,” I chimed in. “We’ll do what Juliette’s most comfortable with.” Ironic considering how I trapped my wife.
Liam sighed. “Okay, we’ll leave off the Irish wedding, but we’ll do the proper wedding. Tomorrow.”
Juliette let out a frustrated breath, her eyes flashing with annoyance. “It isn’t like this was a dream match or anything. The two of us got drunk and had an unoriginal idea to get hitched. A mistake. Nothing more; nothing less.”
I gritted my teeth while bitter amusement filled me. This dark-haired woman was all I’d been thinking about and she was calling this a mistake. I let out a sardonic breath. She was put on this earth for me and only me, so I’d show her how perfect of a match we were.
And with that, I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her closer to me, tightening my grip around her.
“Tomorrow. Formal. Wedding.” Liam’s tone made it clear it was non-negotiable. Then, just in case he didn’t get his point across, he added, “That’s final. We already finalized the idea with the guests.”
“So good to know it’s about what I want,” Juliette said. “Aye, aye, Captain, we’ll be there.” Her eyes held something dark when she turned to me. “Right, husband?”
“Correct, wife.”
Something was off about her, I just couldn’t put my finger on it.